Ps. 84.5 (the state of the pilgrim)

How blest are those / whose strength / is in you
with pilgrim-ways / in their hearts. 

This verse begins the central aspect of the psalm. In order to begin to grasp this we need to back up and see how the psalmist has constructed the psalm in order to prepare us for this verse. In short, he has constructed two ‘poles’ or differing ‘states of being’. On the one hand we have the ‘state of exile’ from the Temple: it results in “crying out” and “wasting”. I’m describing this as a ‘state’ because in those lines the distance is described in a type of absolute or permanent sense. This ‘state’ is then contrasted with the opposite state—that of the ‘birds’ who build nests and those who dwell continuously in the Temple. Here, we move into the ‘middle state’: the ‘pilgrim state’. These are the people who are moving from the ‘state of exile’ toward the ‘state of dwelling’. This ‘state’ is one of movement-toward; it can’t be described in ‘snap-shot’ but only in the movement. 

With this we now need to make the important thematic point—this psalm is a pilgrim psalm and likely one that would have been recited by pilgrims during their journey to the Temple in order to participate in one of the major feasts. What this insight provides us is that the ‘third-state’, the pilgrim state, is the focus of the psalm; the first ‘two-states’ were, in sense, foils to it and served to highlight its centrality, developing its texture. They pointed to ‘where he was coming from’ and ‘where he is going’. Both poles inform the pilgrim state. 

Pilgrim and blessedness. With that in mind it can come as a type of surprise then when the psalmist uses the exact same language to describe the pilgrim and the Temple-dwellers: “How blest are those who …” This parallel has deep meditative significance. With everything we have said thus far it would seem as if the Temple precincts are the only arena of blessedness; in other words, that everything other-than-the-Temple is anathema. This sense comes from the ‘polarity’ we discussed above. However, as we have also seen, that ‘polarity’ is first, an aesthetic one: the sense of absolute devotion to the beauty of the Temple creates the portrayal of duality. Second, that polarity was in service of the pilgrim state—in other words, the exclusive beauty of the Temple was, we now see, in service to the beauty (or, blessedness) of the pilgrim state. The duality of the Temple exists only, in a sense, in the abstract. Once the pilgrim state is glimpsed (which is the whole point) the Temple takes on a very different meaning and the horizon of its influence is much (much) further than its walls. In fact, the blessedness of the Temple extends all the way to envelop not simply another area, but an entire ‘state of being’—the pilgrim state. It is as if the Temple has a gravitational pull toward itself, pulling into it all those who are journeying toward it. Within that pull, the state of blessedness exists. It is, in other words, as if the pilgrim were already a Temple-dweller, a type of already-but-not-yet existence; again, however, we must emphasize that this ‘state’ is a ‘state-in-movement-toward’. It can’t be seen in snap-shot. The entire point of this ‘state’ is that it is being drawn-toward the object of its affection, desiring union with the Temple. It is like Peter walking on water (or, a shepherd calling his sheep…). More deeply still: this type of ‘communicative-blessedness’ is a type of sacramental reality. The festival toward which these pilgrims are moving is, in a very real way, communicating, already, its concrete blessedness. Again, we must emphasize the objective, sacred nature of the Temple (even ‘birds’ are objects of admiration). This objective, sacred nature of Temple beauty is something that can infuse pilgrims on their way toward the Temple. This of course complicates both our notions of time (the festival is, in a way, already being enacted) and space (the Temple’s sacredness is overflowing its boundary). This, however, is exactly what a sacrament does (and, what a sacrament is for, as a means of ‘pilgrim strength’).

Ps. 84.4 (liturgy: the drama of beauty)

How blest / are those who dwell / in your house
who can continually praise you. 

In man of the other psalms we have looked at, the picture of ‘blessing’ is of an almost tangible, living power: it confers authority, longevity, abundance and goodness. From father-to-son it passes down and makes virile (in both pasture and family) the lineage of the son. Creation itself is the primordial blessing and image of all others. Here, by contrast (it seems), we are provided a glimpse into another aspect of blessing: liturgy. Liturgy—the praising of God within his Temple, following the liturgical rules he has established—is the blessing. For this psalmist, this is not at all surprising. We have pointed out how he has an intensely aesthetic perception of God and his dwelling—he is attuned to the beauty and glory of God. For him, God’s presence is at its most fundamental level—beauty. And, for this reason, his presence ‘makes beautiful’ his Temple in a profound manner. Indeed, so profound that his entire being is caught up in his desire to be in the Temple, to be with the object of his desire. Such consuming desire was what enabled him not simply to ‘see’ the birds in the Temple but to perceive how blest they are to build a home with the sacred space of God’s home. All of this leads up to his perception of those who ‘dwell in your house’. This verse, in other words, is of a single piece—the perception of the beauty of the Temple, the perception of the birds…all of this must now be seen to be consummated in those who engage in liturgy to God. The liturgy, in other words, is the ‘drama of beauty’ that this psalmist seeks. As we pointed out in the opening reflection—beauty is anything but static in this psalm. Indeed, the closer one gets to the object of beauty (the Temple) the more active one becomes. Here, the ‘drama of (sacred) beauty’ becomes ‘continuous’; time itself partakes of the beauty of the Temple (which is what ‘liturgy’ is). In a sense we could say that the further one moves form God the closer one moves to stasis (through disintegration and ‘wasting’; vs. 2).  It is tempting to suggest that just as those who have little aesthetic sense would likely never perceive the reality of the birds’ blest state (nor, consequently, the beauty of the Temple), so too would they not perceive the beauty of liturgy. For this psalmist, however, the ‘love of God’ (that which consumes him utterly) is expressed in his ardent (and total) attachment to God’s beauty. That love is liturgy. I don’t believe it a stretch to say that, for this psalmist, the vision at the end of Revelation would be entirely consonant with how he would envision the consummation of creation—as the descending Temple of God such that now the entire creation becomes, utterly, remade into liturgy. From the animal realm to the human, creation now ‘dwells’ in God’s dwelling and that ‘dwelling’ is ‘continuous praise’. It will be blessing.

Ps. 84.3 (birds of the incarnation)

Even a bird / finds a home
and a swallow / a nest for herself
where she can put her young
near your altars / O Yhwh Sabaoth
my King / and my God. 

It is not the case that psalmist’s rarely think of themselves a metaphorically like an animal. It is that they rarely, if ever, sustain the metaphor with such beauty, delicacy and care. In another, very similar psalm, the psalmist is likened to a deer in parched land away from the Temple. There is a crucial distinction in these lines. The psalmist is not identifying with the bird. We must be aware of the fact that the psalmist has, upon entering the Temple, noticed these birds, a detail that, in and of itself, surely is unnoticed by the vast majority of pilgrims. And, further, he not only notices them but finds in them the reverse pole to his ‘long and wasting away’. If his ‘heart and flesh’ cry out, these birds are the ‘response’, representing in their closeness to God’s presence what he longs for. These birds are to the psalmist, real and literal inhabitants of God’s dwelling. 

This is the real key to this verse: that the psalmist sees in these birds a deep and rich reality. They are not metaphoric, they are not a symbol. He truly envies these birds and their ability to literally dwell close to God’s presence. For the psalmist, God’s presence in the Temple is real; it is not a mental attitude or disposition. This is why an animal can be an object of envy for him. These birds may, in fact, reveal more of the reality of the Temple and its beauty than all of the Temple-psalms combined. Until one could look at these birds and truly envy their closeness to God one has not yet grasped the reality of God’s presence in the Temple (it may be that this is nearly impossible for a people almost antagonistic to sacred space as contrasted to sacred time/attitude). Their lack of rationality is no hindrance to the psalmist’s perception of their treasured status. 

Dwellings. The psalmist provides us another key insight through these birds. What the psalmist finds so amazing about these birds is not that they can, when they desire, fly into the Temple. Rather, it is the fact that they can “dwell in the Dwelling”. There is an important merging of the fact that, as in vs. 1, this is God’s dwelling whereas now the birds are permitted to build “a home”. Within God’s Dwelling there is space for other ‘dwellings’. It is not the case that the Dwelling can only be a place-of-visitation. Rather, it can be, and is, a place wherein one can build a home. This is thematically important. We saw how the psalmist’s longing is a total longing. His entire being longs for the Temple. That desire could not be satisfied unless it would be possible for a home to be built within the Temple. More important still, the presence of God would not be one that could or would allow the total saturation of one’s being were it not possible that one could dwell in his dwelling. If one could not dwell in the Dwelling, there would be a remainder to one’s life that could not be consummated by God’s presence; something ‘profane’ (or, secular) would remain. 

This points to something momentous: these birds intimate the Incarnation. Man’s entire being can ‘dwell’ in the ‘Dwelling’. Man’s being, in its entirety, can be a ‘dwelling’ or ‘tabernacle’ to God. In the flesh of Christ we see the ‘Dwelling’ of God in the ‘dwelling’ of man.