Ps. 104 (a robe of light)

Bless Yhwh / I tell myself
Yhwh / my God / you are so great.
you are clothed / with majesty and splendor
clad / in a robe of light. 

The psalm opens in a very unique manner with a description of Yhwh. Not only in this not common in the psalms, but it is the only place in this psalm that it occurs. Everything else in the psalm will focus on Yhwh’s action, in both heaven and earth, but it all must be understood as originating from this primary description. In other words, the rest of the psalm—Yhwh’s action—is to be seen as emanating from this description. For that reason, it deserves close attention. The first thing we must note is that the psalmist describes Yhwh by way of a description of his clothing: majesty, splendor and light. What we find here is that Yhwh’s ‘clothing’ does not conceal him; rather, it reveals him in his kingly authority and power.  This clothing is then, however, described as one of “light”. It seems that the images must be understood together: with the light of Yhwh’s presence being one that communicates royal authority and beauty (splendor). This seems important to me—the presence of Yhwh itself communicates Yhwh’s mastery and beauty; the one who observes him is, in this way, made to see his own nature as ‘servant’ to Yhwh. In other words, Yhwh’s presence is not neutral; it compels and demands reverence. To ‘see Yhwh’ is to see his utter superiority, mastery and overpowering beauty. Why this is key to understanding this psalm—when the psalmist turns his gaze to Yhwh’s creative mastery over creation he will see in creation the ‘work’ of this presence. Creation is an enactment and display of this king, Yhwh. This deepens the wonder of creation itself. Moreover, as we will see, it fundamentally shapes how the psalmist actually perceives creation (for example, Leviathon will now not be understood as a terrible chaos monster at war with the divine, but a ‘mere’ plaything or pet of Yhwh). 

The light: We need to consider here the fact that ‘light’ is mentioned first in this psalm that in many ways displays striking similarities to the creation account in Genesis. In Genesis, everything begins in darkness, then water, then land-from-water. The psalm, here, follows a somewhat similar pattern with the description of earth beginning with Yhwh’s ‘shouting’ the water that covers the earth “into its assigned place”. Only then does light emerge. This psalm, by contrast, places us, first, in the presence of Yhwh, then in his heavenly temple and then on earth. What we see, then, is that creation, here, comes from Yhwh’s ‘primal’ uncreated light. In a way we are here afforded a glimpse of perhaps not what happens ‘before’ creation but ‘where’ creation comes from. For this psalm, the ‘word of creation’ (here, the ‘shout’) comes from the ‘splendor of Yhwh’s regal light’. And, for the psalmist, this is something he ‘sees’ when he looks out at creation.
You are the one / who spread out / the skies like a tent

who laid on the water / the beams of his high home,

who makes the clouds / his chariot

who travels / on the wings of the wind

who uses winds / as his messengers

flaming fires / as his servants

From the vision of Yhwh “clad in light” the psalmist now begins describing Yhwh’s action in the heavenly realm, and he does so in three ways: dwelling, mobility and messengers. Dwelling: Yhwh is here portrayed as a builder of his heavenly dwelling.  It appears to me as if Yhwh builds his home by first ‘stretching out’ the sky and then, upon the ‘waters’ of the sky, laying the beams of his ‘high home’. As such, his home is constructed in the heavenly realm above and upon the sky. What we should see here, however, is not simply a ‘home’ but a royal dwelling. This is, in other words, the construction of the heavenly temple, the ‘dwelling place’ of Yhwh. An important theme that is struck here and will resonate throughout the remainder of the psalm is the fact that Yhwh, in constructing his heavenly dwelling, “spreads out” the skies and “lays down the beams”—as an architect in the heavenly realm Yhwh constructs according to a plan, according to a design, and builds things “in their proper order”. This ‘constructing’ in the heavenly realm will, when Yhwh comes to create on earth, establish the earthly order as well. But, what we see, importantly, is that earth reality will, in a sense, ‘mirror’ the heavenly; it will be subject to the same architectural momentum. As such, when the psalmist looks out at the earth he will see in it the echo, or enactment, of this ‘prior’ heavenly building; the earth will mirror the heavenly realm and ‘shimmer’ with its glory. This points us toward a second feature of the psalm—the fact that the psalm begins with the construction of the heavenly temple may suggest that the psalm is to be understood as being recited within the earthly Temple—which is modelled after the heavenly one. The earthly Temple is understood as Yhwh’s ‘home’ within Israel, his dwelling place. And, moreover, it is to be understood as the ‘navel’ of the entire earth, the source from which the life of the earth flows; it is Eden. As such, it is not simply a place within creation but is, in a very real sense, what creation is ‘tending toward’ or, even, the only place that ‘creation’ is really ‘creation’ (in the same way that Israel is not a ‘nation among nations’ but the ‘Adam of the earth’).

From the construction of the home the psalmist then moves to the ‘ordering’ of his mobility: Yhwh “makes the clouds his chariot”, who “travels on the wings of the wind.” On one level what we see here is the mastery and harnessing of ‘the clouds’ for Yhwh’s mobility. Ezekiel saw this in the opening vision where a ‘storm cloud’ approached him which, as it came closer, it was revealed to be the terrible and awe-inspiring chariot of Yhwh. The vehicle of Yhwh’s mobility itself shows forth Yhwh’s ‘majesty and splendor’ (vs. 1) in the same way that his clothing does not conceal but reveals him. On a second level what we see here is Yhwh’s speed—he travels on clouds and on the ‘wings of the wind’. It strikes me that what the psalmist envisions here is Yhwh’s ability to travel upon the fastest forces of nature—that he, in a way, can always be ‘there’, without hindrance. This, again, points to his ‘greatness’ (vs. 1)—that he is not only the fashioner of the heavenly temple, and the cloud-chariot rider, but the supremely mobile of all divine beings. He can overtake everything and nothing can overtake him. 

Retinue: from Yhwh’s mobility the psalmist now turns to Yhwh’s retinue, his own ‘messengers’ and servants: the winds and flaming fire. Yhwh’s messengers are, themselves, the most mobile of all beings. His servants are, perhaps, the cherubim—the flaming ones. As such, his messengers, themselves, are terrible ones; again, we may here catch a glimpse of the vision of Ezekiel where, within the storm-cloud, there were things like ‘flaming embers’ that darted around (perhaps these are the ‘flaming fire’ servants of Yhwh that gather around his mobile chariot-throne, ready to do his bidding. All in all, the vision of Yhwh in the heavenly realm is one of overwhelming awe, power and mastery. The supreme forces of creation, in the ‘heavenly realm’, are but his chariot, messengers and servants. I suppose that what we might say is that the ‘theophany’ of Yhwh in verse 1 and 2 really only continues through these verses as well—all of these ‘instruments of Yhwh’ do not obscure him but, in their tremendous power, reveal Yhwh by their being utterly subjected to his mastery.

You are the one / who founded the earth / on its bases

so that it cannot move / for ever and ever.

the deep covered it / like a robe

water stood / upon the mountains

at your shout / it ran away

in anxious flight / from your loud thunder.

This psalm has several sections to it and we can see where thy begin whenever we read, “You are the one…”. The previous section, as we saw, concerned Yhwh’s presence, building and governance of the heavenly realm. The psalmist now turns his gaze to ‘the earth’ and begins with “You are the one who founded the earth on its bases.” This imagery is reminiscent of Yhwh’s establishing/building the heavenly Temple. There, he spread out the skies and then laid the ‘beams’ upon the waters. Here, the earth is ‘founded on its bases’. The ‘establishment’ or ‘founding’ or ‘building’ of earth mimics the same event in heavenly construction of Yhwh’s home. Both are intended to display the grandeur (or ‘majesty and splendor’) of Yhwh’s mastery over earth, as if he were some divine and massive being forming the earth ‘on its bases’. The second stage presents Yhwh’s ordering of ‘the deep’. ‘The deep’ is referred to in several places in the psalms, often in the sense of a chaos that must be defeated by Yhwh. However, I believe that it is also referred to in Genesis where it is not portrayed in any type of aggressive fashion, but merely as something that is very pliant to Yhwh’s ordering word. Here, it seems to me that ‘the deep’ stands somewhere between those two images. On the one hand, it is subjected to Yhwh’s ‘shout’ rather than his calm ‘word’ (as in Genesis), and thereupon it ‘runs away’ in ‘anxious flight’. There is, it seems, something of a ‘victory’ here, with ‘the deep’ retreating. Moreover, Yhwh’s ‘shout’ seems to be a type of war cry. In addition, ‘the deep’ covers the earth ‘like a robe’. This ‘robe of darkness’ should recall to mind the ‘robe of light’ that Yhwh wears. The earth’s robe of ‘the deep’ will, however, be undone; Yhwh will ‘unveil’ the earth, when he shouts at the water, causing it to retreat, and thereby be exposed to his light. In this way, I find in ‘the deep’ something that is menacing, something that does, in some fashion, operate as something at odds with Yhwh. All of that said, however, and importantly, ‘the deep’ does not appear to ever put up resistance; it retreats at the mere voice of Yhwh. In addition, in the context of the psalm, this seems to be but another stage in Yhwh’s ordering of the earth; it is not a battle so much as a forming, of applying to earth the same formative power Yhwh applied to heaven. In the end, I think the real key to understanding this aspect of ‘the deep’ is in the ‘robe’. As we said above, the earth is robed with ‘the deep’ whereas Yhwh is ‘robed in light’. The opening of the psalm envisioned a theophany of Yhwh, whose power then mobilizes in order to ‘build the earth’. Yhwh first establishes the earth. Then, in a complex image, he ‘undresses’ the earth, by causing its robe to “flee”. In so doing, Yhwh both ‘constructs’ the earth and exposes it to his radiant presence, to the ‘sun’ of his person. It is in this that we find the beauty of the image—that in Yhwh’s creation of the earth he is not merely constructing it but enabling it to be in and experience his presence. “In your light we see light itself.” Final thoughts on ‘the deep’: When ‘the deep’ first appears it is a formless mass of water. Yhwh, upon ‘shouting’ at the water, causes it not simply to retreat but to “the place you established for it.” In other words, the water-chaos is not destroyed but shaped and given form. In so doing, as we will see, Yhwh alters it from that which ‘covers everything’ (like the flood, which destroyed all life) to that which provides life to the earth. What is interesting about this transformation is how Yhwh accomplishes it—through his war-cry shout. What we would expect from this, however, is not ‘order’ but a defeated chaos, a destruction of the enemy. Here, by contrast, Yhwh’s shout actually causes order. We might say—that the destruction of chaos is creative (or, ‘creation’; or, ‘death where is thy sting’).

It went up mountain / and down dale

to the place / you had established for it

you set a boundary / it could not pass

it could not / cover the earth again

The result of Yhwh’s shout is the deep’s movement to “the place” Yhwh “established for it”. Yhwh was not attempt to banish the deep, nor was he trying to destroy it. Yhwh had in fact created a place for it, and set for it a boundary. The deep was, in other words, ‘useful’ and a thing worthy of Yhwh. However, like the sky, that needed to be ‘stretched out’ and the earth that needed to be ‘founded on its bases’, the deep too needs to ordered and shaped by Yhwh. It must be harnessed. Once this occurs, as we will see, it becomes life-giving. But here the focus is on Yhwh’s creative harnessing. This harnessing on earth of the deep recalls the fact that Yhwh, in the establishment of his heavenly home, also harnessed the clouds, the winds and the ‘flaming fires’, and used them as either vehicles of his presence, his messengers or his servants. What he does in the heavenly realm to these astonishing powers, he now does on earth to the astonishing power of ‘the deep’. And, just as in heaven the powers become ‘domesticated’ under Yhwh’s authority, so too is the deep completely shorn of any resemblance of being a real foe to Yhwh; like the heavenly powers it is completely subservient to Yhwh’s authority and, like them as well, the deep becomes upon its subservience a thing of life—it turns from ‘the deep’ into life-giving waters. Earth, like heaven, is then the place of harnessed, but tremendous, power. It is pregnant with power, but a power that is made to serve the ‘artwork’ of Yhwh. To the psalmist, heaven and earth are more like a drama than a statute, with each power (the clouds, the winds, the fire, the ‘deep’) assigned a dramatic role to play by Yhwh; the ‘role’ is their ‘assigned place’ (either as chariot, messenger, servant or river); they retain their power to act, but now made to be expressive of Yhwh’s will as the director. The final line seems to evoke images of the great flood that Yhwh promised “would never happened again.” Of course, the flood story has many parallels to the creation story—the Noah/Adam parallel, with the animals in the Eden/arc; the return of all creation to the chaos waters and then the subsequent separating of them. This brings us to something we failed to reflect on when Yhwh established the earth ‘on its bases’. That establishment was so secure that the earth would not move ‘for ever and ever’. Here, the boundary for the deep meant it could not ‘cover the earth again’. There is the clear sense here that the earth’s stability and safety is something made perpetual by Yhwh’s creative handiwork; the earth ‘displays’ this solidity and safety, but that ‘display’ is a theophany of Yhwh and his governance.

You are the one / who releases springs / into the wadis

they flow / between the mountains

the wild animals / all drink from them

wild asses / quench their thirst

birds of the sky / nest beside them

singing / among the foliage.

We have remarked before how the psalm is structured around the phrase, “You are the one….”. In the first section Yhwh ‘was the one’ who established and built the heavenly temple/home and harness the heavenly forces. In the second, Yhwh ‘was the one’ that established the earth and then harnessed “the deep”. Here, Yhwh “is the one” who makes life-giving water flow over the earth. What we should recognize in all of this is that Yhwh being ‘the one’ points to him being ‘the one god’. All of these actions are universal, or absolute, actions—all of heaven and earth and the abundance of water find Yhwh to be their creator and fashioner. It is Yhwh—and Yhwh alone—who does these things, because they are, all, universal in scope; Yhwh is not the fashioner of a part of heaven or a part of earth or a local river. He “is the one” who does them all, in their totality. The importance of this insight is that it means all of these activities are, themselves, in their grandeur, a theophany of Yhwh; they all display, without remainder, Yhwh’s greatness, splendor, majesty and ‘light’ (vs. 1-2). For the current verses, what we see is that this theophany of Yhwh reveals him to be one of life-giving substance. He does not merely create the stage of creation, but also the ability for that creation to experience life. Importantly, this is the first time in the psalm that a living being is mentioned.

It is interesting to note how much animals figure in this psalm. The psalmist describes: wild asses, birds of the sky, cattle, birds and storks, wild goats, conies, forest animals, lions, ‘creatures’, swimming things innumerable, animate beings big and small, and leviathan. Man, in fact, only rarely appears. I think there are several reasons for this. One is that the psalmist is taking a contemplative stance towards all of creation. When he looks out at the earth he sees an astonishing variety of creatures, but they all find their water, food and shelter, in their particular forms, from Yhwh, “who is the one who…”. It is the staggering multiplicity and variety that he is witnessing, but all held together in the unity of Yhwh’s governance and concern. The more he catalogues, the more overwhelmed he is, and the more he witnesses, the “greatness” of Yhwh’s majesty and splendor. Yhwh’s creation is, indeed, vast and majestic. This points to a second reason: that man is a part of a much larger, and infinitely varied earth. Man is not the focus although, importantly, man is the one being who can perceive, contemplate and give praise to this ‘masterwork’. The animals, arguably, recognize that Yhwh provides for them, but it is man who can see in the infinite variety the heavenly Yhwh who orders it all. This is not to say that creation only comes ‘to completion’ in man. Instead, there is, it seems to me, a sense here that the psalmist is utterly aware that creation could not ever be exhausted by his act of perception; that it will always be “innumerable” and vast and beyond his power to comprehend. The more he catalogues creation the more he is aware of what he cannot perceive. And the more he is aware of what he cannot perceive, the more in awe he is of Yhwh who governs it all (including the vast multitude of creation that is likewise watered, sheltered and fed by Yhwh). (And this, of course, is super abundantly clear to us today.)  

You are the one / who waters the mountains / from his high home

so that the earth / is filled with fruit you make.

The psalmist now makes a rather startling claim as he shifts from the multiplicity of the creatures to the “mountains” and Yhwh’s “high home”. We saw in the previous verses that it is the variety of creation and Yhwh’s care for it that beggers the psalmist’s soul. Here, however, he turns to the ‘mountains’. Mountains, like the animals, figure prominently in the psalm; they are mentioned six times. The deep ‘stood upon the mountains’ until Yhwh shouted them down (vs. 6) and the ‘waters’ now ran up and down them ‘to their place’ (vs. 8). Here, the mountains are the point at which the ‘waters of Yhwh’s home’ pour over the earth. The mountains become the focal point and meeting place between Yhwh’s home and the earth. From this meeting place the earth will be “filled with the fruit that you make”.

You are the one / who makes grass grow / for the cattle

and crops / for man to tend

causing breadcorn / to come from the earth

and with wine / gladdening man’s heart

causing the face / to glisten with oil

and with bread / sustaining man’s heart.

The psalmist now moves from the provision of heavenly water, flowing down the mountains, to the earth and Yhwh’s “making things grow.” This dynamic, from high to low, is of course intended. Water comes down while food grows up. From ‘high to low’ Yhwh is the one who surrounds his people and his creatures with his provisions. The last three lines open up a dynamic at work within this psalm that we have remarked on previously but it emerges again. When we looked at the portion of the psalm where Yhwh ‘de-robed’ the earth from ‘the deep’ we saw how Yhwh’s act allowed the earth to experience the radiance of his presence. It was not the case that Yhwh merely created the earth but, rather, that he created it in order for it to ‘live in his light’. With that in mind, we need to see the ‘abundance’ of the concluding three lines—there, we see how Yhwh’s provision of ‘bread and wine’ is not simply an act of providing sustenance. It is, rather, a ‘festive’ or ‘abundant’ act. Both of them cause ‘gladness’. What we see here is important—that Yhwh’s provision exceeds what is ‘necessary’ and instead is something joyous; it crosses the boundary and is, in some sense, ‘wild’ and exuberant. For the psalmist, to see what Yhwh provides is to see the festival of creation, the fact that it gladdens his creatures. Creation is a banquet.

Yhwh’s trees / receive plenty

the cedars of Lebanon / which he planted

where birds nest

storks / whose homes are the firs

the high mountains / are for the wild goat

the rocks / are the conies retreat.

The psalmist now shows that man is not simply the recipient of Yhwh’s bounty, or his festival, but so too are ‘the trees’. They, like man, receive “plenty”, an abundance, and they, in turn become “cedars of Lebanon, which he planted.” Creation displays Yhwh’s extravagance and majesty, in and through its own extravagance and majesty. Creation is both extravagantly provided for from without (with “plenty”) and from within (as “cedars of Lebanon”); Yhwh is both exterior and interior, and they both speak to his majesty. Creation in this way has its own ‘majesty’ given to it, as man is made an ‘image of God’. The ‘cedars of Lebanon’, in their majesty, display Yhwh’s majesty. It is here where we can notice how the psalm looks at Yhwh’s creation from several different perspectives. On the one hand he sees its grandeur in its multiplicity being united in Yhwh; Yhwh “is the one who…”. This is the ‘symphony of creation’ in which all the individual parts speak in unison. On the other hand, as we see here, the individual things of creation themselves speak of Yhwh’s grandeur. It is not simply their relation to the rest of creation but the individuality; they are like a ‘solo’ within the symphony. We see this in the psalmist wonder at the ‘cedars of Lebanon’. Interestingly, however, in this single image—the cedar of Lebanon—both views are combined because not only are they majestic in themselves but the psalmist wonders at how they also form a part of a greater whole: birds nest in them. It is the dynamism between individuality and community that creates the ‘symphony’ of the psalm. One can focus on the particular instrument, and then see how that instrument contributes to the entire score. However it is viewed, though, what the psalmist sees in each (either in the particular or in the overarching composition) is an abundant majesty—it shines from within, from without and throughout. It is, in other words, always already before and after. It is there in the first glance and it is not exhausted by the final one. This is how, for the psalmist, creation mimics and speaks of the heavenly realm that Yhwh creates in verses 1-3.

You are the one / who makes the moon / to show the seasons

the sun / which knows when to set

when you make darkness / and night falls

through its hours / all the forest animals prowl

lions roar / for their prey

asking God / for their food

at sunrise / they go away

and lie down / in their lairs

man goes out / to his work

to his labors / till evening.

The psalmist now provides us with a different sphere of Yhwh’s authority by beginning with the phrase, “You are the one…”. Here, Yhwh is understood to be, in addition to the fashioner of creation and its abundant provider, also the fashioner of time itself. He does not ‘leave time in chaos’ but rather, as with the heavens, the earth and ‘the deep’, he ‘builds’ it. He ‘made the moon…and sun’; he ‘makes darkness and night fall’. These lines themselves literally show this ordering of time: four lines for darkness and night; four lines for light and day. Importantly, the lines on darkness do not exhibit any of the dread and fear that one generally finds in other psalms when night is mentioned. Instead, the night participates as much in the contemplative gaze that saturates the entire psalm; nothing disrupts this vision. It is, it seems to me, what motivates and underlies the account of creation in Genesis. The Night: the night is the time, simply, for animals ‘prowling’ for their food. It does not bespeak of dangers or of demons or of other dark forces. In fact, the one animal that is so often portrayed as a terror in the psalms and the embodiment of enemies—the lion—is here heavily diminished. The lion is not an agent of chaos. The lion’s roar is not the voice of power and authority but, in fact, a petition to Yhwh for food. Like ‘the deep’, he has been ‘domesticated’ by Yhwh and assigned his place. And, as we will see, the lion is also like the ‘leviathan’ of the water—both are portrayed almost as pets of Yhwh. Lions as the ruling animals of the land, leviathan as the ‘beast of the water’, yet neither of them represents a threat in any way; rather, they are utterly subservient to Yhwh, both “looking to Yhwh for food”

The Sunrise: day is the ‘time of man’s labors’. As the sun rises, the lions retreat to their dens to sleep, and man awakes and goes forth. This movement of retreat-and-emergence is the rhythm of creation as it moves according to its purposes; this stability of thought, perception and language engenders the peacefulness that pervades the entire psalm. The way the psalm itself is written is a type of mirroring of creation; as in creation, there is a profound sense of peace and control and beauty in the language itself. It is perhaps no coincidence then that this portion of the psalm stands in the middle and man’s activity frames it—vs. 14 speaks of Yhwh making “crops grow for man to tend” and it now ends with man “going out to his work, to his labors till evening.” Moreover, this section ends with ‘evening’; with the ‘close of day’, which also ends this section on time itself (it begins in the ‘night’, which is the start of the day, and now concludes with ‘evening’, the close of the day). Surely there are other important literary techniques being employed, all of which reveal that the psalm itself is a type of ‘world’ that mimics creation itself.

How many things there are / which you have made Yhwh

you have made them all / in wisdom

These two lines in many ways summarize the psalm, and the psalmist’s wonder at Yhwh’s activity. The “things” of Yhwh are abundant, they are “many” and they “fill the earth”. Moreover, they display, or enact, Yhwh’s wisdom; they are ‘made in wisdom’. When we put these two insights together, we find a perception of ‘wisdom’ that is not merely the perception of balance and form and shape within creation. What we see is that Yhwh’s wisdom, while also being one of ‘shape and form’, is explosive, dynamic, and abundant. We will see this in the immediately following verses—that this verse serves as an introduction to. There we see “the earth is filled with your creatures” and “the sea, vast, stretching in all directions, while in it swim things innumerable, animate beings big and small.” Earth and sea team with life. This is not to say it is ‘irrational excess’ or that what we see here is a contradiction—form versus formless abundance. In fact, “the deep” represents that, which Yhwh “shouted into its place”. Rather, what we see is that creation itself displays the fact that Yhwh’s wisdom is ‘ever new’ and is not exhausted by the forms it creates. In perceiving the massive ‘fullness’ of creation man literally sees a ‘wisdom without end’, Yhwh’s wisdom itself; creation overflows itself. In a sense, we could say that anything Yhwh makes will display this ‘abundant form’ (if an aspect of beauty is the coincidence of freedom and form, then every created thing (not just creatures), and its embeddedness within creation, will also display this dynamic).

The earth / is filled / with your creatures

the sea over there / is vast / stretching in all directions

in it / swim things innumerable

animate beings / both big and small

boats move there

and leviathan / which you fashioned / to play in it.

The previous section largely dealt with the ‘creatures of the earth’. Here, the focus is almost entirely on those of the sea. One important thing to see in this is that ocean is called “the sea” rather than “the deep”. As we saw, at the beginning of the earth’s establishment “the deep” robed the earth in darkness, preventing it from dwelling in the light of Yhwh. Yhwh then ‘shouted’ it down and it fled into the places assigned for it. ‘The deep’ thereby became the rivers and, presumably, here the ‘sea’. It no longer was a force of chaos, but rather, like the lion and like leviathan (and, the sun and moon), a creature of Yhwh. It serves his will. This transformation pervades the entire psalm; all of creation is under the authority and care of Yhwh. Whatever forces of chaos there were, they have been removed or harnessed into the service of Yhwh.

In hope / all of them look to you

to give their food / as needed

you give it to them / they gather it up

you open your hand / they receive good things in plenty

you hide your face / they are overwhelmed.

Throughout the psalm thus far God’s creation, and his creatures, have been ‘things observed’. The psalmist wonders at their variety, their multitude, their forms and the way they relate to each other. Here, for largely the first time, the creatures ‘turn to Yhwh’; Yhwh becomes the ‘one observed’. This has, in fact, happened once before, where the psalmist portrayed the lion’s “roar” as a request to Yhwh for food. The same applies here: they “look to Yhwh” to give them food. What we find here is that Yhwh’s creatures do not engage in idolatry. They recognize what the psalm has been emphasizing throughout—that Yhwh “is the one who….”. Their very beings are oriented to Yhwh as their provider and, as such, they become the living momentum of creation turning to its source, creator and provider. This ‘turning’ is significant on at least two levels. On the one hand, the psalm has given an impression of a type of contemplative detachment. The psalmist is an observer, and his observation is almost entirely from ‘the top down’. What I mean is that he sees creation as stemming from Yhwh’s creative hand and then, within the order of creation, relating to itself (birds nesting in trees, etc…). What we don’t see is the ‘return’ movement back to Yhwh. One almost senses that creation is a pure movement away from Yhwh. By contrast, here what we witness is that creation, we might say ‘naturally’, is in fact ordered to Yhwh. This points to the second point: for the psalmist, creation is simply ordered to Yhwh. A lion’s ‘roar’ is in fact a prayer; all creatures, when they look for food, are ‘looking to Yhwh’. This is not to say a lion or every creatures formulates a petition to Yhwh; it is deeper than that. Rather, creation, in its being, is ‘always already’ turned to Yhwh. Creatures are, in other words, fundamentally directed to him. Their ‘being’ expresses this. The interesting question is, why? What does he view creation in this fashion? I think the answer is in what we have covered—because he sees the entirety of creation as stemming from Yhwh’s ‘wisdom’, then it bears the mark of that wisdom in its being and is fundamentally ordered to its creator. I wonder: for other religions that view creation as the arena within which many gods interact, do the different animals represent the different gods, or, are certain animals understood as especially dear to certain gods? If so, then the psalmist’s view of creations is a distinctly Yhwh’ist vision; it is one that would (only?) emerge if one believed in Yhwh as the creator and fashioner of the ‘arena’ itself. It is an intriguing insight into the animal kingdom and how and idolatry shapes one’s vision of how creation, and creatures, themselves “look to Yhwh”. It may be that the more one turns to Yhwh, the more one comes to see creation (and creatures) in the way the psalmist does.

When Yhwh’s creatures “look to him” they are only looking for “their food as needed”. However, when Yhwh opens his hand to them, he provides them “good things in plenty”. What we see here is something we have alluded to throughout in regard to Yhwh’s creation: it is marked by an abundance, a prodigality, and always something much more than what is merely “needed”. This echoes throughout nearly every psalm: that when Yhwh acts in goodness toward his people, he does so in a festive, abundant fashion. Yhwh is always-already excessive when he provides for his people (just as creation itself is ‘always-already excessive’ in its being).

You hide your face / they are overwhelmed

you take away / their breath / they die

and revert / to their dust

you send your breath / creatures are made

and you renew / the surface of the ground.

These lines should be understood within the context of the preceding fours lines. The reason being that Yhwh’s ‘body’ is what is clearly at the center of these lines: the animals ‘look to you’ – hand – face – breathe.  What we find in these lines is that creation itself is utterly responsive to Yhwh. At its most foundational level, creation ‘looks to Yhwh’. Moreover, the ‘life’ of creation is itself the ‘life given to it by Yhwh’. There is no hiatus between the two; creation does not subsist on its own. When animals are fed, that is Yhwh “opening his hand” in abundance. If Yhwh turns away, creation is overwhelmed. When things die and revert to dust—that is the ‘intake’ of Yhwh’s breath. When creation is again remade and reborn—that is Yhwh “sending out his breathe”. In all of this we find the extraordinary power of Yhwh’s presence and his will toward creation, and creations utter responsiveness to Yhwh: creation itself—in its rhythms of production, abundance, death and rebirth—is the ‘partner’ of Yhwh. This responsiveness of creation to Yhwh is something the psalmist sees more than at the level of the ‘will’ of creation; he sees it at its very foundation; it is ‘encased’ in its partnership to Yhwh; it is ‘always-already’ oriented to Yhwh, without remainder. We might even say it this way: this very real and true perception of creation is something that can only be perceived with the entire being of psalmist (what we might call the “eyes of faith”), and not merely with that part of his that can measure and quantify (although that is clearly being employed here in his recognition of how creation is utterly interrelated and formed); it includes that part of him that perceives quality (beauty, power, extravagance, abundance, goodness, festive); and it also includes that part of him that can perceive creation not as a mute ‘thing’ but as a response, and responsive. This is the perception engendered, for example, by Genesis—before creation was, Yhwh was, such that creation itself when it comes into being comes into being as a response. Its very core is rooted not in itself, but in its ‘coming from’ and ‘being responsive to’ Yhwh.  This ‘level of creation’ is deeper than its created forms, shapes and textures. And yet, it is its fundamental identity. It is what enables the psalmist to see in creation’s ‘ebb and flow’, the breath of Yhwh.

Finally, it should be pointed out that here death is not malevolent. It is not the result of a curse. The psalmist is, again, taking a more meditative stance toward creation; he is witnessing the fact that creation dies-and-is-reborn and in this he sees not, for example the ‘death and rebirth of a god’ (as in other religions), but the intake and exhale of Yhwh’s breath. There is no accusation in this; no cry of injustice; and no guilt. It is the ‘way of creation’.

May Yhwh’s glory / last forever

may Yhwh / find joy / in all he has made

who looks at the earth / and it quakes

who touches the mountains / and they smoke.

The earth is subject to constant death and renewal. Yhwh’s glory, however, is here praised as “lasting forever”. Yhwh’s glory is not subject to the same ebb-and-flow, dying-and-rebirth, of creation. It does not fade, die, and then get renewed. It remains; it is in the heavenly realm of forever, the divine realm of perpetuity. This forever-glory, in relation to earth, though is not simply one of power and authority. Earth is, rather, a place of “joy” to Yhwh. What we find here is important—the psalmist has clearly found ‘joy’ in his reflection upon the earth and its astounding diversity and interrelations. Here, Yhwh “finds joy in all he has made”. As such, the psalm itself moves the listener(s) into that realm of Yhwh’s joy. It is not merely the psalmist’s wonder and joy, but Yhwh’s. Man is not alone in his joy and wonder at creation; it is not only an earthly joy. We are not looking at creation only through the psalmist’s eyes but through Yhwh’s as well. We participate in his joy. Moreover, as Yhwh’s ‘glory’ endures forever, so too does his joy. Accordingly, when man moves into Yhwh’s joy at creation he is, in some fashion, placed within a realm of divine, perpetual joy; he is, in some fashion, taken outside of himself and of earth and moved into Yhwh’s own joyful, divine and perpetual heart. This is not simply a joy that is above creation. It is also creation’s origin and beginning. All of creation comes from Yhwh; he is “the one who…..”; it comes from Yhwh’s joy and moves to Yhwh’s joy. As such, this joy is creation’s ‘beginning and end’; its ‘alpha and omega’. It is creation’s most interior identity and its goal (in Yhwh’s joyful gaze).

And then, this joyful gaze becomes more intentional and it makes the earth itself ‘quake’. What we find here is varied. First, we see that Yhwh’s primal gaze at the entirety of creation is one of joy; now, when he focuses his gaze, the earth becomes tremendously responsive to Yhwh. It is no longer an object looked upon; it is a partner; it feels his gaze and it cannot control itself. Its ‘quaking’ is, moreover, not simply the feeling one gets when one senses another’s gaze. This is a profound and entire response. His gaze cuts to the very core of creation and consumes it. It is the gaze of supreme and absolute authority. It is the ‘terrible’ glance of the High King. More importantly, it is, in fact, merely a ‘glance’. Here, Yhwh does not need to ‘do anything’ other than merely look at creation for it to convulse and shake; his gaze is, like all authorial gazes, the communication of his presence and can be withering. This is, though, intensified in the following verse when Yhwh actually ‘touches’ creation (the mountains). When that happens, the mountains seem to catch fire and ‘smoke’. What we may find here is what we see in many theophanies where Yhwh is a flame enshrouded by smoke. This is the actual appearance of Yhwh’s presence. No longer is he only looking at creation. Rather, he has come down to it and touched it at which point the mountain becomes a volcano.

I will sing to Yhwh / all my life

and celebrate my God / with music as long as I live

may my reflections / please him

as I have rejoiced / in Yhwh

may sinners / be destroyed / from the earth

and wicked men / exists no more

bless Yhwh / I tell myself.

The psalmist previously described Yhwh’s glory as lasting ‘forever’; Yhwh’s glory coincides with his divine ‘forever’ life. Here, the psalmist’s praise of Yhwh likewise expands to the entirety of his life. The psalmist will be a ‘total’ response to the forever of Yhwh’s glory; he will “sing” and “celebrate” Yhwh, “my God”, for as long as he lives. This ‘total response’ is, moreover, not simply a response; Yhwh too delights in him and “his reflections”. There is a dynamism and interaction of mutual joy and affection for each other; indeed, the psalmist concludes the psalm with the same covenantal language that opened the psalm: “my god” (vs. 1 and 33). This is the covenantal dialogue established by Yhwh with his people. And what we find here, also, is that man’s reflection upon creation (as we saw in the previous reflection) participates in Yhwh’s reflection on creation; the psalmist’s joy at creation is a participating within Yhwh’s joy at creation. These are the ‘reflections’ that delight Yhwh; Yhwh loves the contemplative gaze at creation, that ability for man to perceive within creation the glory and beauty of Yhwh—indeed, to perceive within creation Yhwh’s own delight, Yhwh’s own “seeing it is good”.