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.