Ps 105 (the Temple and abiding astonishment)

The Temple

On some level, all of the previous reflections lead to this one on the Temple. Because it in the Temple that Yhwh’s Presence is most directly engaged through the people’s memory. It is in and through the Temple that the land becomes the Land. It is through the Temple that what is manifest about Yhwh—his Glory—is housed and perceived by Israel. And, it is through the Temple that abundance and obedience are absolutely wed together.

That being said, where is the Temple referred to in the psalm? It is, I believe, in the opening where the leader tells the people to “come to Yhwh and his might, seek his presence always.” Yhwh, his Might, and his presence are in the Temple. This is why a pilgrim can, literally, “come to Yhwh”. This is not a metaphor for an inner, spiritual “coming to Yhwh”, but a literal journey to him in the Temple. As such, the entire psalm is one that is “lived out” in the Temple. The people’s memory of the Jospeh-and-Moses story, and of Yhwh’s abiding covenant-memory of those events, is enacted while in Yhwh’s presence and Might.

In a very real sense, then, the psalm’s conclusion with the people being “brought out…with rejoicing and signing”, and their “enjoying the fruit of the people’s toil”, brings them squarely into the Temple. The end of the psalm, in a very real sense, ends at the beginning, with pilgrims moving, again, into the Temple to remember Yhwh’s abundant deliverance.

This should be seen in conjunction with our reflection on the Land. There, we saw that the closer Israel came to the Land, the more radically abundant Yhwh became toward them. Although they were in an “arid place” “water gushed from a rock” and “quails and food from heaven filled them.” If this occurs in the dessert, the Land must be truly astonishing. It must be more abundant than anything that has been intimated up to this point. It would dwarf the abundance and riches of Egypt. Its ability to produce would be magnificent. But this astonishing abundance is rooted not in the Land’s ability to produce from itself, but because the Land is impregnated with Yhwh’s Presence, and that Presence is housed in the Temple. That is why when the prophets envision the ‘day of the Lord’ it begins in the Temple. An ocean of life pours forth over the Land, and then the world, but it begins in the Temple. It is a wellspring of all Life. In a quite amazing fashion—that final day of Life can be understood as the entire world going through an exodus, with the Temple being the “rock that is struck” and from which a bubbling water emerges bringing life to everything in its path. As we see in this psalm, it is because the Might is there, this almost atomic power that brings life to everything around it. And not just life but Life.

That is both the beginning and end of the exodus. It began as Moses’ call to let the people worship Yhwh. It ends with the people entering the Land and then establishing the Temple (as in Chronicles). And here we see how it ties into the people’s memory. If Yhwh’s abiding covenant-memory is housed in the Temple, then we can, with the psalm, describe that covenant-memory-Presence as the “Might”, the astonishing power of Yhwh. When the people therefore come into the Might, and they remember Yhwh’s acts, they call forth that Might to act again. Their memory, so to speak, fuels the flame of Yhwh’s Might. It keeps the Land from becoming simply the land, just as Adam was called to till Eden and keep it. In this ‘sacred history’ the past is never really past because its underlying engine (the “Might”) is forever and enduring. Its author never dies.

Here we come to see that the abiding astonishment that the acts of Yhwh have in this psalm (the plagues, the dessert ‘miracles’, Joseph’s rise to glory, etc..) become an abiding astonishment of his Might in the Temple. In other words, if all of the acts in this psalm have been leading up to the fulfillment of Yhwh’s covenant promise to Abraham to give him the land of Canaan, and if the consummation of that “gift” is the establishment of the Temple in the Land (when the gift becomes truly secure), then all of the acts of Yhwh leading up to that point are, in a sense, gathered together and exceeded when Yhwh chooses to abide within his people, in the Temple. In other words, the Temple itself is to be seen as the archetype, the model, the pinnacle, and the consummation of all of these acts of abundance on Yhwh’s part. 

Ps. 105 (Abundance and obedience)

Abundance and Obedience

Closely related to the previous reflections are the images of abundance. They appear throughout the psalm, but they cluster much more toward the end of the psalm. In some ways we covered this in our reflection on the movement from obscurity to glory, but here we should pause and take special note of how abundance works in this psalm.

What I mean by ‘abundance’ is physical blessing—whether in agriculture or in wealth. The first instance of this is what we might expect—the covenant blessing of the Land that is the engine of the psalm. Yhwh promises to Abraham “I will give you Canaan, allocating it you to possess.” We note here the giving of the Land to them. It is “allocated” to them as their “possession”. There is something akin here to a transaction, a change of ownership, from Yhwh to Abraham/Israel.

The fact that Yhwh still owns and controls the land is immediately noted—He strikes it with a famine, thereby depleting it of its abundance and vitality. This lack of vitality is mirrored in Joseph’s status as a slave—just as the land is robbed of its glory, so too is Joseph. However, just as the Land will eventually become an abundance, so too does Joseph. When Joseph is “proved right”, abundance flows. Joseph is set free, made ruler of peoples, in charge of the palace and is made “to rule all his [king’s] possessions.” Importantly, this rise in physical blessing puts Joseph not simply in a position of wealth, it puts him in a position of authority—he “instructs” and “teaches wisdom.” Again—Joseph here in many ways will mimic the end of the psalm, where the blessing the land is quickly followed by “observing his [Yhwh’s] rulings and his commandments.”

Abundance next appears when Israel is in Egypt and Yhwh “made his people abundantly fruitful and too numerous for their foes.” It is key to recognize here that Israel’s fruitfulness is not simply their own—it is also Yhwh’s, or, maybe better said, primarily Yhwh’s. We should recall here that when Yhwh promised Abraham that he would have descendants as numerous as the stars, Yhwh told Abraham that he, Yhwh, would make Abraham fruitful. Whereas everyone before Abraham had “children in their own image”, here, the covenant power is now unleashed within Abraham and his family. Their physical fruitfulness would itself be a display of Yhwh’s power and fruitfulness. That is what happens here in Egypt.

This abundance is challenged and Yhwh makes Egypt desolate through the plagues. Note here how the plagues are themselves a type of anti-abundance. Egypt “teemed” with frogs, “even in the royal apartment.” Their came flies and gnats “throughout their territory.” Everything is aimed at showing the totalizing power of Yhwh. He is, in a way, “abundantly destructive” of Egypt. For Israel, however, there is life. Yhwh brings them out “with silver and gold”. “No one stumbled”. All of abundant destructiveness is reversed for Israel. Even in a dessert—the epitome of absence—Israel is abundantly taken care of with “quails” and “food from heaven” and water “gushing from a rock”.

And, finally, when they reach the Land, they receive “the lands of the nations” and the “fruit of the people’s toil”. They are given what they have not earned or worked for. Just as the covenant promise to Abraham was a type of abundant “land grant”, a free transfer of ownership (an abundant gift), so too is what they receive when they enter the Land—gift upon gift, abundance upon abundance.

The final lines summarize the entire trajectory of this abundance—“to the end that they might observe his rulings and obey his laws.” Again, with Abraham the Land was given him for the purpose of obedience. With Joseph, abundance was given so that he “would teach the nations” wisdom. With Israel-in-Egypt, they are made abundantly fruitful so that Egypt would turn against them and the exodus would occur. The entire purpose of the exodus is to fulfill the promise to Abraham, give them the Land and its spoils, so that they would “observe his rulings and obey his laws.” We can note here that in Exodus, the first reason Moses gives to Pharaoh for leaving is liturgical—not to leave permanently. He simply wants to take Israel into the dessert so that they can worship Yhwh. As the story progresses, though, and Pharaoh’s heart becomes increasingly stubborn it is clear that Israel cannot worship Yhwh in Eygpt and the exodus occurs. The Land, therefore, becomes the “stage of Yhwh’s liturgy”. In this psalm, all of that is condensed into the final two lines.

It is crucial to grasp—the physical abundance that is the Land, the people’s physical glory of Yhwh’s blessing, must be wed to obedience to Yhwh. In a way, physical abundance (glory) is the outward display or manifestation of obedience to Yhwh. Creation and obedience, abundance and instruction—they show Yhwh to the world. But there is something more important to grasp—the Land’s abundance and glory is meant to be not simply an enticement to obedience, a type of ‘shell’ that holds obedience. Rather, Yhwh’s instruction is as glorious and abundant as the Land itself. Yhwh’s instruction is to be ‘seen’ as being as glorious as “the land of the nations” and the “people’s toil”. It is as much a delight as the “fruit of the land”. That is why the psalm begins and ends in rejoicing. It is not a rejoicing simply as their prosperity and abundance—it is a rejoicing in the instruction from Yhwh. Recall that Yhwh envisions the nations coming to Israel, bringing their abundance, because there is no other nation that possesses such wisdom and instruction. Yhwh’s instruction is the most prized of all possessions. 

Psalm 105 (the land and the Land)

The land and the Land

One concrete way in which the dynamic of hiddenness or obscurity and openness and glory is in how the psalmist characterizes the land. The basis and theme of the psalm is the outworking of Yhwh’s covenant promise to Yhwh that he will give him Canaan, “allocating it to you to possess.” Once the promise is given, Abraham and his people are, importantly, described as only “temporary residents in it”, the psalm making clear that while they are ‘in the land’ they do not “possess it.” They move “from nation to nation and from one realm to another people.” At the end of the psalm, when the people actually enter the Land, it is not described as Canaan, however. It is described as “the lands of the nations”. It is a key phrasing—whereas before, as temporary residents, they moved “from nation to nation” while in Canaan, at the end, when they come to possess it, is the “lands of the nations”. Israel has become the ‘lords of the land’, so to speak, and rulers of the ‘nations’. The land that had previously been owned by the nations, is now owned by Israel. And the land that produced “fruit” for the nations through their “toil”, now is possessed by Israel, who come to “enjoy the fruit of the people’s toil.”

Between this movement from temporary to permanent stands Egypt. Egypt is, though, also described in the possessive, as “Ham’s country”. At first glance, this simply appears to be another, perhaps more poetic, way of describing Egypt. However, the use of the possessive is important. Israel is constantly referred to as “Yhwh’s people”, “his servants”, “his tribes”. More important still is that when Yhwh sends plagues on Egypt, in almost every single line, Egypt is described as “theirs”—“their water”, “their fish”, “their country”, “their territory”, “their vines and fig trees”, “their country”, “their ground”, “their masculinity”.  

There is a profound point to this—while Israel, through Joseph, could rise to the level of ruling all of Egypt, and while they could, in Egypt, become the saviors of the world through their ability to deliver bread, and while they could even become “abundantly fruitful” there, in seeming fulfillment of the promise to Abraham that his descendants would be numerous—it is not “their land”, it is not the Land that Yhwh promised them. Yhwh promised them Canaan. It is there, and there alone, that Israel will find a permanent glory, an abiding glory, and a glory that is such precisely because it is leavened by Yhwh’s covenant memory and blessing. There is something in this almost mystical and sacramental about the Land, about Canaan, the “land of the nations”. It is a uniquely blessed place. It is a place specially designated by Yhwh to be the place of “his people”. As we will see later, it is, importantly, the place of Yhwh’s “house”, the Temple. This is where the final resting place of openness, of proclamation, can occur. It is here where the “beacon set on a hill” can begin to shine to “all nations”. It could not occur in Egypt. That is not Israel’s land. Things might succeed for a time there but, in the end, to stay there would be reside in futility and vanity because it is not the place of the covenant promise. These are all important insights as we continue to move deeper into the psalm. 

Ps 105 (from obscurity to glory)

The act of proclamation, of ‘making Yhwh known’—it is all an act of display, of publicly disclosing Yhwh to the world. There is a momentum in this psalm that moves from hiddenness to openness, from something small to something great. We see it first in the story of the Wandering, when, after Yhwh delivers the covenant promise to Abraham, Israel is described as “few in number, a tiny group, and temporary residents in it [Canaan].” Within this smallness, though, Yhwh speaks his final words of the psalm—“Do not touch my anointed ones, to my prophets do no harm.” These words of protection are crucial for a group that lacks any authority or glory of their own. The divine Sovereign has spoken over them with a power equal to the power of the covenant he spoke to Abraham. This, too, this act of divine protection, is an outworking of the covenant-memory of Yhwh. It, so to speak, is the first chapter of the story.

From there, the story takes what seems to be a nose-dive into further obscurity. Yhwh “calls forth a famine to befall the country and breaks every bread stick.” Almost comically, the covenant moves forward yet again through an act of seeming failure. Joseph is “sent by Yhwh” but “sold as a slave. His feet were forced into fetters, his neck was put in irons…” The outworking of Yhwh’s covenant memory is not a straight line. It does not move directly from the bottom-to-the-top, from obscurity to clarity. Instead, it seems to ebb and flow. Note how Joseph is “sent” by Yhwh as a slave, but when Joseph is freed the “king” “sent and set him free…he put him in charge of his palace, to rule all his possessions…”. It is an incredible detail. Joseph is “sent” twice. On the one hand, the psalmist shows the divine action as working directly through a slave, while the “king” is the one who operates to free Joseph and lift him to glory. What is crucial, though, is that the psalmist sees all of this as the outworking of Yhwh’s covenant memory. And yet, at the height of this, when it could appear as if the covenant memory is about to be fulfilled—Israel “came to Egypt.” They temporarily are riding the crest of the wave—they have, in contrast to their earlier “few in number”, become “abundantly fruitful and too numerous for their foes”. Yhwh then, in a seemingly complete reversal, “turns their [the Egyptians] hearts to hate his people and to trick his servants.” At this point Yhwh seems to be acting against his previous words of protection—“do not touch my anointed ones, to my prophets do no harm.” Instead of offering protection, it appears as if not only has he torn down that wall but actually invited the Egyptians through the breach. And yet, what we come to see is that this has happened before—with Joseph, who Yhwh “sold as a slave”. Although not directly mentioned, there was Abraham before Joseph, who left Ur for Canaan. It is intriguing how this act of faith is not mentioned but clearly alluded to. Are there certain patterns that emerge here? Or is Yhwh’s outworking simply “mysterious”? Is the psalmist attempting to say that even at the ebb and darkness of Yhwh’s outworking the people should keep faith? Or, can we detect something more than simply the darkness of faith? We will contemplate that in another reflection. For now, the point is to highlight this rise-and-fall-and-rise of Yhwh’s covenant memory. Regardless of how we understand it, the psalm is moving toward a climax.

It is during the exodus that this movement of hiddenness and obscurity clash and eventually resolve themselves. It begins, as we have said before, with Moses’ and Aaron’s “announcing among them [Yhwh’s] signs and marvels…”. Then, just as Joseph and Moses were “sent by Yhwh”, now darkness is “sent”. It is the first of the series of destructive plagues. Importantly, it is here in the story, although it is not mentioned in the psalm, that the divine Name is given to Moses. I believe this to be highly relevant to what we are exploring because the Name, in a very real way, instigates the exodus plagues. Once the name is delivered, and once Moses and Aaron ‘announce’ Yhwh’s marvels, there is a crescendo. The Name destroys a nation (Egypt), from the bottom to the top, and delivers another nation (Israel). All of the obscurity and hiddenness of Yhwh’s covenant memory, as well as all of its manifest openness, collide here. The nations is laid waste, but in the midst of its being laid low, Israel is protected and emerges “with silver and gold”. They have, in a way, become the Joseph-who-rose-to-power-in-Egypt, except here Egypt is not lifted up with them, but laid low.

Once Israel begins its journey to the Land, everything that occurred in and to Egypt is now completely reversed for the sake of Israel. In Egypt, where ‘vines and fig trees grew’ and where there was ‘plant and produce’, everything is annihilated. And yet for Israel, who journeys into the wasteland of the dessert, “quails come” and “food from heaven”. Rocks “are opened and water gushes out”. The water “flows like a river through arid places”. It is as if the glory of the Land is already present to them in the dessert. Yhwh is raising them to glory, to a manifest people of shining authority, in the midst of a dessert. There can be no mistaking it—it is evident, it is clear, it is no longer hidden. The shadows of Israel’s past are beginning to dissipate as they move closer to the Land.

Once they enter the Land, the people themselves become a proclamation of Yhwh. They become visible blessing of Yhwh. “He gave them the lands of the nations, and they enjoyed the fruit of the people’s toil…”. We will contemplate the final two lines later. For now, we should recognize this movement from obscurity to glory, and how the end of Yhwh’s covenant memory is the lifting up of his people into his astonishing blessing (his glory) in the Land. 

Psalm 105 (remembering Yhwh)

Often the end of a psalm will shed light on its beginning. Or, perhaps more accurately said, when the end of the psalm is compared to its beginning, a gateway is opened into the psalm. That is the case here.

The psalm opens with calls to rejoice in Yhwh. That is putting it mildly, however. Acclaim Yhwh; call out his name; sing to him; hymn to him; speak of his wonders; revel in him; and let the heart rejoice. This is the prodigal flame of joy in Yhwh's presence.

And that is also how the psalm ends. It, quite literally, ends in a torrent. Yhwh opens a rock in a dessert and water flowed, it went forth in parched land as a stream. And from this flowing water, the people's voices also 'went forth' in "joy, in glad song". The past becomes present. The end becomes the beginning.

This mirroring is significant for a psalm that has as its focus "memory", both the people's memory and Yhwh's. The opening of the psalm is not simply a call to rejoice. It is, most fundamentally, a call to remember. To remember the story of Joseph-and-Moses. And yet, again, there is a mirroring even here.

The psalmist implores the people to remember. "Make his deeds known...speak of all his wonders...Recall the wonders that He did." And then, only a few lines later, he draws our attention not to the people's act of memory but to Yhwh's. The people's memory needs to be renewed, over and over again. Yhwh's memory, on the other hand, is "for a thousand generations." And again, at the end, the psalmist sums up the entire Joseph-and-Moses story as Yhwh "remembering his holy promise, and Abraham, his servant."

This is key. When Yhwh remembers his promises, things happen. Nations are born and nations are destroyed. One could say that all of salvation history is the act of Yhwh's memory, the outworking of his promises. Or, to put it another way, Yhwh's memory can be another way of saying Yhwh's faithfulness.

And so, the Mirror. When Yhwh's people remember his deeds; when they speak of his wonders and recall what he did. They are, in fact, remembering Yhwh's memory. And because Yhwh's memory is active, because it is the outworking of his promises, the people are not simply recalling Yhwh. Instead, they are joining into his memory and making his memory--his acts of faithfulness--present. That is what it means to "make known Yhwh's acts." It is not simply the handing on of mental information. It is, in a way, the match that strikes at heaven, and ignites the presence of Yhwh on earth. To remember this story is to enter the story. And to enter into this story is bring it forth, to make it present.

We can see this at work in the psalm itself. And, with this, we will conclude this initial reflection. As we have said, the psalm implores the people to "make known his deeds among the people". This is a very public thing. It is meant to be displayed, to be openly heard. With what we have said about memory, it is meant to spread the flame of Yhwh "among the peoples." To spread Yhwh's memory. The psalmist drives this point home when, in the middle of the psalm, he shows us that this act has already taken place. 

When Moses and Aaron approach the Egyptians, the psalmist says they "set among them the words of His signs, His portents in the land of Ham." Once these "words" are delivered, the plagues begin. Moses and Aaron have already done what the people are commanded to do--set among the people, the wonders of Yhwh. In another reflection we will note how the psalmist is revealing the dangerous nature of 'memory'. But for here it is important to note that the psalmist is telling the people that their act of "memory" and their act of "proclaiming the deeds among the people" is a participation within the prophetic act of Moses and Aaron. This simply confirms everything we have said above--to "remember Yhwh's deeds" and to "make them known" is to participate within those deeds and to spread them. Yhwh's faithfulness is carried forward through his people's participation within his own memory.

Sent from my iPad