Ps 4

When I call / answer me / O god of my righteousness

                When in distress / give me room

                Be gracious to me / and hear my prayer.

The psalm begins with the psalmist “calling for an answer”. The psalmist is “in distress” and his reputation is “a reproach”.

For the psalmist, if Yhwh hears him it is the same as him answering him. And that hearing-and-answering is deliverance and Yhwh’s graciousness. It is something that the psalmist, at the end, is confident will arrive, so confident, in fact, that he can sleep soundly in the hope and certainty of its arrival. He knows that he has been “set aside” for Yhwh and that this special position is one that guarantees him being heard by Yhwh.

It is important to see that while the psalm begins in petition it does not remain there but quickly moves into a position of confidence and assurance, a position that will not abate before the psalm’s end. This is unlike many psalms that attempt to call Yhwh to attention by emphasizing, and re-emphasizing, the injustices that the psalmist is suffering under. One might say that this psalmist’s confidence and trust is itself his petition. It is, itself, what calls Yhwh to attention, what makes him “hear-and-answer”.

***One could read this psalm as the one that David prayed in Psalm 3, especially in light of how the psalm concludes with the psalmist going to sleep in the assurance of Yhwh’s deliverance***

O sons of man

                How long / is my reputation / to be a reproach

                How long / will you love vanity

                How long / will you seek falsehood.

The psalmist first addressed Yhwh and now he turns and addresses his accusers, who he addresses as “sons of man”. This designation should stand in stark contrast to the psalmist first conversation partner—Yhwh. For the psalmist, Yhwh is the source of power and deliverance. When he then turns to these “sons of man” his tone is derisive and mocking, much like the psalmist, and Yhwh, in Psalm 2 when they address the nations. This tone is an expression of the psalmist’s confidence in Yhwh hearing him, in his confidence that Yhwh has “set him aside”, and that Yhwh will deliver him.

How long: Importantly, this question of “how long” is, in the psalms, usually posed to Yhwh, asking him how long he will continue to permit injustice. It is, in that sense, a type of accusation, intended to wake Yhwh up and cause him to act. Here, though, the question is posed to the “sons of man”, and, as such, it takes on a completely different meaning. It is mocking. The psalmist knows there will be an end to the ascendency of the sons of man. He knows that Yhwh will turn the world upside-down and that they will be brought low. And so when he addresses the sons of man from this position of confidence, he is asking them how long their injustice will continue (as the psalmists typically do with Yhwh) but as if they should clearly see how absurd they are.

Reputation: the sons of man are slandering the psalmist within the community, making his reputation a reproach. The redemptive aspect of this is that at some point this time of reproach will end and his reputation will be redeemed. His name within the community will be cleansed and lifted up. It is toward this time that the psalmist looks. It is his assurance in this beginning that allows him to live, now, within the reproach and even to fall asleep.

Vanity: the sons of man “love vanity”. But like the psalmist’s reputation, there will come a time when this will no longer be the case. What these “sons of men” love will be revealed for what it is—vanity—just as his tarnished reputation will be revealed for what it is—one of the godly, whose god is Yhwh. This end-of-vanity is something that Paul looks forward to in Romans 8 where he sees the entire world as being subjected to vanity. Interestingly, there it is the “revelation of the sons of god”, not the “sons of man”, that will mark the end of vanity’s reign.

Falsehood: the sons of man “seek falsehood”. This is likely in reference to their degrading the psalmist’s reputation. Knowing that what they say is slander and false, the psalmist understands this as a “seeking falsehood”. This should also be understood in connection with their love of vanity. A love of vanity is a love of things that do not obtain their intended purpose. It is often described as “empty vanity”. In this way, vanity is similar to falsehood in that vain things are a type of lie or false-things. They express themselves one way but cannot deliver on what they express (wealth, for example, promises security but it cannot guarantee it. And so to “love wealth” is a love of vanity and also a seeking of falsehood.).

But know / that Yhwh / has set aside / the godly for himself

                Yhwh will hear / when I call to him

From his derisive litany of “how long” the psalmist now speaks directly to the sons of man and provides them with the reason for his hostility—this time that they now enjoy is simply the time of Yhwh’s “setting aside” the godly for himself. The godly, then, are in a sense hidden for a time—that is why they are able to make the psalmist’s reputation a reproach, to love vanity and to seek falsehood.

But through the psalmist this time of hiding is now revealed. As such, the psalmist is also showing that it is a time of mercy, a time for the sons of man to change their ways, to stop persecuting the psalmist, turn from vanity and seek truth rather than falsehood. This theme of mercy is prevalent in Psalm 2 as well, where the shattering of the nations is present but only in order to give them pause so they can align themselves with Yhwh’s messiah. The goal is not their destruction but their conversion.

Tremble / but don’t sin

                Speak within yourselves

                But be still on your bed

As with Psalm 2, the psalmist is attempting to create a space, we might say a space of mercy, and now tells the sons of men how to repent before it’s too late—before Yhwh “hears him when calls” and destroys them. He tells them to refrain from their pursuits, to stay within themselves and to not let their motivations result in action. He wants them to “be still” and to “speak within yourselves”, not speak out loud against him further destroying his reputation. Just as the nations were reorient themselves towards Yhwh’s messiah and to “kiss to son” in an act of obedience, so too are these sons of men begin the process of reorientation by restraint.

The reference to being “still on your bed” could be important given the concluding lines where the psalmist “lies down and sleeps” in the confidence of Yhwh’s governance. Just as he will lie down secure, so too are the sons of man to be “still on your bed”. If they cannot fully reorient themselves, they should at least remain still, mimicking his confidence as he sleeps.

Sacrifice sacrifices of righteousness

                And trust in Yhwh

Just as in Psalm 2, where the nations are called to perform an act showing their loyalty to Yhwh’s messiah, so too here are the sons of men now told to perform acts to show their turn toward and trust in Yhwh—their (re)orientation toward him.

We have to see this movement, as in Psalm 2—first the psalmist displays incredulity at their rebellion, he then makes a pronouncement that is to disorient them, and then commands them to make a positive movement, intended to reorient them. The entire movement, as said before, is one of mercy, of attempting to bring the sons of men out from judgment and into trust in Yhwh. But the mercy requires this painful disorientation/reorientation.

In Psalm 2, this positive movement was an act of fealty to Yhwh’s messiah. The act of kissing the son by the nations was an act intended to address their rebellion. Just as their voices were used to speak words of rebellion in the opening, so now are their mouths us to show communion with the messiah. It is an act particularly well suited to the leaders of the nations. Here, the act is likewise directed to the “sons of men”—sacrifices. These sons of men have “loved vanity” and “sought falsehood”. They have been enamored with things but not as they are intended. Here, the psalmist encourages them to address that false approach through sacrifice, through offering things to Yhwh. This dynamic of giving over to Yhwh is meant to be a healing process for their vanity and falsehood; it is intended to orient them towards things of substance and to truth. In other words, the act of sacrifice itself is an antidote to vanity and falsehood. But the psalmists includes more to it. They are not simply to engage in sacrifices but sacrifices “of righteousness”. These sacrifices begin the process of turning the sons of men toward trust in Yhwh, which is the psalmist’s position. This is confirmed by the opening lines where the psalmist describes Yhwh as the “god of my righteousness.” The psalmist wants these sons of men to become like him—to find Yhwh to be their “god of righteousness” and, therefore, to be “set aside” by Yhwh. And the way they do this is, again, through sacrifices, through an inner and outer offering to Yhwh, not only of material offered, which is essential, but also through sacrifices of the heart and the reorientation of trust in Yhwh.

Many people say / Who will show us good

                Lift up the light of your countenance upon us / o Yhwh

The psalmist now turns to an almost philosophical reflection. He recognizes that people wonder who can “show us good”. I believe that implicit in this is what god has the power to bless, to infuse vitality and life into the community and cosmos. It is important to recognize that the psalmist poses this question immediately after calling upon the sons of men to “offer sacrifice”. What he is doing is showing that the “good” that people expect from the divine realm can only be fully lived within if one first offers sacrifices of righteousness to Yhwh. In other words, there must be a dynamic of giving and receiving. If the question is simply who will “give” or “show us the good” without already being oriented to sacrifice, then Yhwh’s “countenance” will not be fully understood. However, if the person engages in sacrifice to Yhwh then we find the answer to the people’s question—it is the “light of Yhwh’s countenance” that will be lifted up upon them.

Put more joy in my heart

                Than when their corn and new wine abound

Once the dynamic of sacrifice has begun then the objects sacrificed, corn and wine for example, will be oriented to Yhwh. As such, the astonishing joy that they can provide to people will be surpassed by the joy given by Yhwh that is “put in the heart”. This is a seed that comes from heaven, and it produces a plant of joy that surpasses anything that the cosmos can provide. For those who are oriented solely to cord and wine, even the abundance of corn and wine, they will be limited in their joy, and will fail to experience a realm of being that surpasses the cosmos. We see here how sacrifice, far from representing a loss, actually produces and an abundance—and, importantly, an abundance more than anything experienced in the cosmos itself.

In peace / I will both lie down and sleep

                For you alone are Yhwh (the lord?)

                You make me dwell / in safety.

It is within this supernatural joy, this realm that surpasses the cosmos, that the psalmist now dwells in. And, for that reason, he lives “in peace” and “dwell’s in safety”.

These are also the words of Christ as he “lies down to sleep” on the cross. He looks solely to his father, as his father, David, did, and can now rest in  peace because of the assurance and trust the he will “dwell in safety”. This psalm, then, is a resurrection psalm, and it takes on an incredible depth when it spoken by Christ.

For Christ to pray to his father that he “put more joy in my heart than when their corn and new wine abound” offers us a glimpse into their relationship. As Christ moves toward, and hangs upon the cross, he has experienced the utter devastation of his reputation. The cross itself is the ultimate and final form of that disgrace and he hangs, in public—its goal and its purpose is not simply to kill the person but for them to die in shame, exposed to cosmos. One could say that the cross does not shame the person but is shame itself, as it gathers to itself all of shames forms into a unity—death, disgrace through stripping, and exposure.

From this stance he looks out upon the “sons of men” and sees their time drawing to a close—the time of vanity and of seeking falsehood. That time is ending because his own life and disgrace are going to come to an end as well. This is important—Christ centers upon himself the epitome and concentration of all disgrace. He has been summed up in him such that his death will be the final moment of disgrace, the judgment of disgrace and shame, we might say. And so, if his disgrace and shame are redeemed—if Yhwh “hears him when he calls”—then the entire age will move forward into that redemption through him and in him. In other words, Christ’s resurrected body will be Yhwh’s “hearing”. It will be a perpetual and eternal “hearing” by Yhwh, the perpetual and eternal answered prayer for redemption from shame and disgrace. That is what his resurrected body will be, not simply in the past, but eternally and perpetually.

The resurrected Christ will also become the testimony to the sons of men that is intended to cause them to pause. As we said above, he becomes the time of mercy, in his resurrected state, because he becomes the testimony of the father’s redemption. It is his resurrection which should begin the process of the withdrawal of sin, the silencing of it, its remaining within the sons of men rather than being expressed. It is not so much, then, a vehicle for judgment as for mercy.

And by carrying the wounds in his resurrected body he shows to the world the true “vitality of being” as sacrifice. He is the resurrected-sacrifice. In this he literally shows to the sons of men what they seek, which is power and vitality and life, but which they can’t find. He shows them how to enter into the true ‘vitality of being’ by entering into him who is the “life of the World”—the very Logos of the Cosmos—but also the “Sacrifice”. The sons of men must pass into Yhwh through him, and therefore through sacrifice, through handing over what they seek to obtain. Here we see how the seeking of anything apart from Christ is, ultimately, vain and a searching for falsehood because it is only in him that one can literally see that which everyone seeks—the abiding and perpetual blessing-life. Christ was and gathered everything into himself and offered it as sacrifice, and, in so doing, was heard and was resurrected into eternal life.

In the words of this psalm, Christ is therefore the “good” that God shows us, the “good” that everyone seeks. And that is because we do not look past Christ but he literally is the countenance of the Father—that Face that entire biblical man searches for and sees as the ultimate blessing and reward is the Face of Christ. But more deeply still is that the resurrected Christ shows the Father’s face because he is the “lifted countenance of God”. He is the fulfillment, or, better, he is the Aaronic blessing in his resurrection. To look upon Christ’s resurrected body is to look upon the answer of God.

And here we can come to see how the resurrection becomes the joy “more than corn and new wine abundance”, because the resurrection surpasses any type of potential within the Cosmos—in Christ the Cosmos was taken into death in order to be reborn into an existence it was not only intended to have but an existence and blessing that even surpasses its original intent. In other words, even if the Cosmos has not been subjected to futility it would not have achieved the blessing existence it obtains in and through Christ. It is Yhwh’s mode of blessing—of deriving an even greater blessing from the effects of vanity and sin than would have been obtained otherwise. This is the true meaning of ‘supernatural’—it is not simply a ‘return’ or a ‘healing’. It is the infinitely surpassing of even its original goal and purpose. It is the infinite surprise. Christ’s resurrected body is that infinite surprise, what cannot be anticipated even by imagining.

And in this we see how Christ’s resurrected boy is not simply the abiding and perpetual “hearing of God”, the abiding and perpetual “answer”—but the abiding and perpetual joy of God. It is something “put into Christ’s heart”—and in so doing it is “put into” the Cosmos. To look upon the resurrected body of Christ is to literally see the joy of God, and man in god. A joy that has not been obtained and then moved beyond, but the abiding and perpetual joy.

Now comes the real mystery—that everything we have said above is actually the reason why Christ can sleep on the Cross. In other words, although everything we said above is something that occurs “after” the crucifixion, it is also the basis for Christ’s trust in his father and why he can ultimately sleep the death-of-the-cosmos. Time is not something that simply moves forward, but also something that moves backward. Things in the future can form the basis for things in the past and can be the soil in which the present grows. Christ was sacrificed before the foundations of the world. And, as such, he was, in a mysterious way, also resurrected. And this—this folding together of time—is what forms Christ’s trust and joy, and is the reality that we are baptized into when we are baptized into Christ’s death and into his Body.

Ps 3

In Psalm 2 Yhwh terrifies the nations through his declaration that he “has installed my king on Zion, my holy mountain.” In this psalm, David, the messiah, is no longer in Zion. He has been removed from his throne through the rebellious acts of his son, Absalom. He is, in other words, in exile. The unity that should obtain between messiah-and-Zion has been severed. Psalm 3 is the drama that unfolds when the messiah is in exile, when Zion and Messiah are no longer a unity, when Adam has been cast from the Garden. As we will see, their separation does not mean severance. The messiah and Zion are still tethered, and it is the messiah’s duty during his time of exile to remember his installation and the covenant, and to petition his father to bring him back to Zion.

O Yhwh / how many are my foes

How man / rise up / against me

How many / are saying of me

                There is no victory / for him / from God. Selah

These lines seem similar to the opening lines of Psalm 2 where the nations, warriors, and princes were arrayed against Yhwh and his messiah. They have “joined together as one” against them. They “murmur murderously”. They want the messiah dead. Psalm 2 then shows their act of unity is an attempt to free themselves from Yhwh’s and his anointed’s authority—to break their bonds and cast off their fetters. They want their nations to be unshackled from Yhwh and his anointed.

Here, the messiah cries out to Yhwh, lamenting “how many” are his foes who have risen up against him. They have come to attack him.

Their accusation that God will not grant him victory contains several things to ponder. First, the enemies rarely in the psalms use the divine name Yhwh. We might say that either they do not know the divine name or that they are permitted to speak it because it is holy. They cannot take it on their lips. Second, and along these lines, the fact they cannot pronounce the divine name also means that they do not fully know Yhwh’s character. To them, Yhwh is like any god and they understand him according to other gods. That David has been exiled from the sacred city, Zion, could lead them to believe that his exile is a sign of disfavor and, therefore, he is utterly vulnerable and without divine aid. As we will see later, the separation/exile of the son from the Zion does not mean that the father has abandoned the son; he will “answer him from his holy mountain” when he petitions him. He is still his “shield” and “glory” and the “One who holds up my head.” The son’s petition will close the gap of exile. That is an aspect of Yhwh the enemies likely do not grasp. Exile does not mean the severing of the relationship between father and son such that no victory is possible. (“My god, my god, why have you abandoned me….”).

But you / O Yhwh / are a shield / round me

                My glory / and the One who holds up my head

Psalm 2 then shifts to a statement of confidence—to Yhwh’s laughter and proclamation regarding his installing his king on Zion, ‘my holy mountain.’ It details Yhwh’s granting of creation to his son, the messiah, and that he would be granting him creation so that he would bring about order (through the rod of iron).

Here, the messiah shifts to a statement of confidence, acknowledging that Yhwh shields him from every angle. That Yhwh is his “glory”, the one who infuses him with the divine power and might, and who holds up his head. Psalm 2 describes those as blessed who “seek refuge in him” (presumably meaning the messiah). That refuge, though, is dependent, of course, on Yhwh as his father. What we see here is the “inner working” of protection between the son-and-the-Father. If the son is to be a refuge for all, it is because the father is the refuge of the son.

In light of what we said about enemies use of the term “god”, the son uses the divine name, Yhwh. He knows what his enemies do not—that Yhwh remains with him, protecting him, and is his glory and sustenance. This disconnect between the enemies and the son is a key theme of the psalm, just as it was in Psalm 2. There, as here, their approach to the messiah is filled with anger and misunderstanding. In Psalm 2, the enemies believed that by breaking their bonds to Yhwh and his anointed they would obtain freedom. But, it was precisely the opposite. By rebelling against the father and his son, they were rebelling against creation itself and were making themselves subject to destruction. They failed to understand that Yhwh was the Creator and that he was also the father of the messiah and had given all of creation over to him. There was no ‘place’ of freedom that they could run to because it was all inhabited by Yhwh and his son. Here, the enemies believe that the son’s exile from Zion means he is vulnerable, that Yhwh will not come to save him. They have failed to perceive how close is the connection between Yhwh and his son. We might say that they have failed to perceive the nature and strength of their covenant.

I will cry out loud / to Yhwh

And he will answer me / from his holy mountain. Selah

The people of Yhwh, throughout the Scriptures, “cry out loud” to him. Yhwh invariably responds with deliverance. Here, the son “cries out loud” to his father, and he knows that the will answer him. Notably, he does not answer him “from heaven” but “from his holy mountain.” We will recall that in Psalm 2 Zion is the place where the messiah is ‘born’. It is his home. It is his throne. And it is the unique place where the unique son is installed. To answer him “from his holy mountain” is to answer him from the place of his exile, showing that the deliverance will be a return to Zion.

I lay down / then I fall asleep

I awakened / because Yhwh sustains me.

The element of trust is key to this psalm. The son/messiah cries aloud to his father, Yhwh. His confidence and trust in him are so great that not only is he certain that Yhwh will answer him, but it enables him to sleep. This ability to sleep is incredible. On some level it is likened to Yhwh’s laughter in Psalm 2—both of them react with utter confidence directly in the fact of rebellion. For Yhwh, the nations’ rebellion amounts to something ridiculous and causes in him a mocking laughter. For the son-messiah, the “multitudes of the people” are so dwarfed by his confidence in Yhwh that he falls asleep. One can already sense here the future son-messiah who will fall asleep in the boat that is beset by the chaos-waves, secure and confident in his father’s regard for him. And, who will ultimately fall asleep on the cross, to later be awakened by his father who sustains him.

We need to explore this a bit deeper. In Psalm 2 Yhwh’s confident laughter is followed by his terrifying address to the nations, an address that is intended to reorient them toward himself and his son. By contrast, here the son’s confidence results in sleep, an utterly vulnerable state of being that throughout the Scriptures abandons those who are in distress (who are, in other words, in the son’s position). The point is that the son can become utterly vulnerable when he resides within his Father’s protection. The Father, in a sense, “goes out” to the nations. The son can go “within himself”—and they both express the covenantal dynamic between them, even though one could characterize them as opposite responses.

While perhaps obvious it needs to be stated that the son’s confidence is not simply in his father’s presence, but in his confident assurance that his father will destroy his enemies and bring him back from exile. It is concrete and looks forward to a time of deliverance and return.

What we see here is key—the son is here entering into the confidence of his father, Yhwh, such that his sleep expresses the Father’s utter mastery and control. He is not simply detached from his father. He is sleeping “in his father”.

And, just as he will rise in his father, so too will his rising anticipate, or participate in, his father’s rising, giving him victory, destroying his enemies and bringing him home to Zion.

Just as his sleeping is not simply his entering nocturnal rest, so too is his waking more than simply “waking up”. His waking is described as an act of his father’s sustaining hand.

I will not fear / the multitudes of the people

Who / on every side / have deployed against me

This verse represents the statement of trust that allowed him to sleep. Yhwh, his father, is a shield around him. Here, the multitude of people are “on every side” and, militaristically, have “deployed against me”.

Rise up / O Yhwh

                Give me victory / O my God

Oh that you would smite / all my enemies on the cheek

Oh that you would smash / the teeth of wicked men.

In Psalm 2, Yhwh tells his son that all he needs to do is ask and he, Yhwh, will give to him the nations and, more extravagantly, the “ends of the earth”. There, the son is not described as actually making the request, although it is implied because the nations are encouraged to voluntarily submit to the son’s authority (to “kiss the son”) so as to avoid being destroyed by his anger. Here, we get a glimpse into the son’s petition to Yhwh. The dynamic of the request is important.

I say ‘dynamic’ because his request carries important insight into his relationship with Yhwh and how they interact with each other. The son implores Yhwh, his father, to “rise up” in the same fashion as the arc of covenant would be ‘raised up’ in battle, displaying Yhwh’s “going with them” on their behalf. That is why to “rise up” is almost synonymous with Yhwh giving him victory. If Yhwh goes with him, victory is assured, because Yhwh would be fighting both in and through the army. They would be a ‘divinely infused’ army, a heavenly host.

In Psalm 2, the “rod of iron” that Yhwh gives his son was the divine weapon that would destroy the nations, smash them like a potter’s vessel. Here, the son attributes that destruction not to himself but implores Yhwh to do it—to smite the enemies on the cheek with such devastation that it would smash their teeth. Just as they taunted with their mouths, so now would their mouths be destroyed, rendering them silent. Not eye for an eye but mouth for mouth. Where their rebellion comes from is where the destruction would begin (one wonders if infertility is this rendering…). 

Victory / belongs to Yhwh

Your blessing / is upon your people. Selah.

In Psalm 2 Yhwh gives creation to the son, but this giving contained within itself the implication of his conquering or bringing into submission all of the nations and the ‘ends of the earth’. Here, the son gives that victory to Yhwh; it “belongs to Yhwh”. This victory, a victory that would take place through the son’s divinely empowered soldiers, is rendered to Yhwh. We see here, again, the from the son’s perspective, everything that comes from Yhwh is to be given back to him. In other words, from the father’s perspective, everything is given to his son; from the son’s perspective, everything is given to his father. Neither of them “grasp” at what they have but, instead, they both empty themselves into the other. And that emptying is the dynamism and life of the covenant.

In the conclusion of Psalm 2, ‘blessedness’ comes from seeking refuge in the son; and, as we saw, that blessedness in the son is because the son is “in the father”. Here, when we speak from the son’s perspective, we again see it all being given over to Yhwh. And just as victory “goes up” to Yhwh, so does his blessing “come down” upon his people. The evidence of the son’s abiding in the father, such that the nations can find blessing in him, is the son’s returning everything to the father in this continuous cycle of giving and returning, of giving and praise.

“Give me victory…Victory belongs to Yhwh”: as fervently as the son requests victory does he also return that victory to Yhwh. As much as he knows the victory obtained is through himself and his people, he also knows that it is entirely dependent on Yhwh.

Ps 2

Why do nations / congregate in commotion

                And why do warriors / murmur murderously

Why do earthly kings / take their stand

                And why do princes / join together as one

                Against Yhwh / and his anointed?

The first psalm opened with the blessed man avoiding the community of the wicked in every stage, but rather of turning his attention to Yhwh’s Torah.

Here, the psalmist begins again with the community of the wicked—but now the purpose of their gathering is to unite “against Yhwh and his anointed.” In the first psalm, no reason for the gathering was explored; the purpose, rather, was on the blessed man and his avoidance of them. Here, we are given an inside view. Here, we are taken inside the gathering. Notably, it is not the ‘blessed man’ that they are fomenting against, but “Yhwh and his anointed”. There is a particular man they are seeking to destroy, not the potentially everyman of Torah meditation. This man has a particular mission as well as a particular relationship with Yhwh—one that is not accessible to everyone.

Along these same lines, in the first psalm the congregation is of the ‘everyman’ wicked person—the “wicked”, the “sinful” and the “scoffers.” Here, they are not individuals, but groups. And they are not generalized, but particular groups of people—“nations”, “warriors”, “kings” and “princes”. These are the rulers, those in power. Their particular identity is matched by the particular identity of the one they have come to overthrow—Yhwh and his anointed. They, together, stand as the rightful and true power and ruler of people.

“Earthly kings”—there are several layers of meaning to this. On the one hand, it is derogative in that these kings ultimately have no power because they are only “earthly”. Their power does not come from heaven and is not divinely sanctioned. More deeply still, though, is how this is understood in this psalm. The first mention of “the anointed” is not of him, alone, but as with Yhwh. As we will see later, Yhwh and his anointed are marked by their communion and communication with each other. When that intimacy between them is grasped, and understood as central to the psalm, the fact that the kings are described as “earthly” means they have no dialogue partner, no commerce with the divine. They are utterly marked by their communion only with other earthly men. For the world of Scripture and the psalms, this is the most terrible indictment on a ruler because he now has no divine backing whatsoever and so, accordingly, him and his people stand utterly vulnerable to heaven’s terrible and always-infinitely-greater power. This is ultimately the source of Yhwh’s laughter, which we will see below.

Let us tear off / their fetters

                And let us cast off / their cords from us

These are the only words from the wicked. They acknowledge Yhwh and his anointed’s authority over them, but want to be freed from it. They want to ‘tear and cast off’ the fetters and cords that bind them. Later, Yhwh will tell the anointed that he has only to ask and he will enable him to “break” and “pulverize” them. And so, while we see on the one hand the nations wanting to ‘break free’ we see on the other Yhwh granted the anointed the power to ‘break’ the nations. Their attempt to break free from the anointed will only result in their being broken. They believe they have the power to dis-align themselves with the anointed. They think they have the power of freedom within their control.  It is one of the key themes of this psalm—that those who are only ‘of earth’ are unable to comprehend the extent of their power and that their every action is always-already encompassed within Yhwh’s sovereign control, which he provides to his anointed. Meaning—that even in their rebellion they will be subject to Yhwh’s and his anointed’s authority and control.

This is the direct cause of Yhwh’s laughter, that follows, and why their words are not simply subject to judgment but mockery.

The Enthroned One laughs / in heaven

                Yhwh mocks them.

To Yhwh, the earthy kings’ stupidity is ridiculous. It is key to understand that Yhwh’s laughter is described as “in heaven”.

Here, in contrast to the earthly kings we have a vision of the “Enthroned One … in heaven.” This is the true king, the true ruler of absolute authority and power. His authority is not limited to a nation, a territory or a people. He is the one who controls “the nations”, who “fetters” and put “cords” on all earthly kings, warriors and princes.

So, even though the nations have “joined together as one” and become united, their unity is a false one. It is almost identical to the unity of those who constructed the tower of babel. From an earthly perspective, their unity is, like the Tower, a thing of dread and an expression of tremendous power. However, from the perspective of Yhwh and “the Enthroned One”, their unity, like the Tower, is inconsequential and utterly fragile and weak. 

Mocking laughter—one envisions this laughter coming, as it were, from behind the veil that separates heaven and earth. And it is not a laughter coming from humor but from mockery. It would, therefore, be utterly terrifying to those who have united themselves against Yhwh and his anointed. It is a pregnant laughter, a laughter that is impregnated with anger and fury.

Then he addresses them/ in his anger

                And in his wrath / he terrifies them

Yhwh now gives birth his anger and wrath. And it is an anger and wrath that terrifies nations, kings, warriors and princes. As united as they were in their rebellion are they now unified in their terror.

I have installed / my king

                Upon Zion  /my holy mountain

These are the only words in the psalm directly spoken by Yhwh that are not mediated to us by his anointed. It is instructive in this regard that they are spoken directly to the nations/kings/warriors/princes. A common theme running throughout the psalms is that the ‘face of Yhwh’ turned toward Israel’s enemies is one of anger, while his face turned toward Israel is one of overwhelming kindness and blessing. The Temple

Yhwh “terrifies” the world by these words—that he has installed “my king” upon Zion “my holy mountain.” Here is Adam-on-the-holy-mountain, the messiah-of-God. Here is he located, the one whom Yhwh has installed and established. Here is the true, and only, earthly king because here is the only earthly king that heaven has established. Here, and only here, does earthly power find its divine power and strength. The same voice that laughed, is the same voice that now stands behind and installed his king.

Heaven and Zion (the Throne and the throne)—If Yhwh is envisioned as the “Enthroned One in heaven”, then his installing of his king “on Zion”, represents the pinnacle of power on earth. It mimics, or participates within, the divine and heavenly throne room. Just as Yhwh, when seen on his throne is “holy, holy, holy”, so too now is Zion the “once holy” place on earth. This is no mere idol metaphor. Zion is the place of holiness, the center of the world and forms the gravitational pull of all earthly power.

It is the most potent gathering—the one man chosen to be king is installed in the one place that is chosen to be Yhwh’s special resting place. In a very real sense, it is here, where the messiah and Zion meet, that Adam and his Garden are both seen in their splendor and power. One without the other is incomplete. Together, they are much more than the sum of their parts. They both realize each other—the messiah realizing Zion’s potential and Zion realizing the messiah’s potential.

I will tell / of Yhwh’s decree

                He said to me /  You are my son

                Today / I have begotten you

The psalm now shifts from the voice of Yhwh to the voice of the anointed. This immediate pairing of the two is important on several levels.

First, the messiah only speaks the words of Yhwh, of his “decree”. He does not speak his own words.

Second, the words form Yhwh alone are addressed to the nations, as we saw above. And, as such, they are words of terror, given to them in an attempt to not accidental. Yhwh speaks to the nations, and he speaks to them about his anointed. Here, however, through the Messiah, Yhwh speaks to his people. The voice of Yhwh-and-the-anointed, is the merciful and blessing-voice of Yhwh. This dynamic cannot be overstated—that to perceive the voice of Yhwh as he wills good for his people, is to hear the voice of Yhwh spoken through his messiah. The messiah does not ‘get in the way’ of Yhwh’s voice (in fact, in this psalm, Yhwh’s “voice alone” is an expression of his anger). It is the other way around—the messiah, in a way, amplifies, or fulfills, Yhwh’s own voice-of-goodness-and-blessing.

Third, the messiah is Yhwh’s objective. Just as Zion is the object of Yhwh’s geographical love, so the messiah is the objection of Yhwh’s human love. Yhwh-and-the-messiah express more of Yhwh then Yhwh alone because the messiah is Yhwh’s ‘goal’. He is the ‘fruit’ of Yhwh’s planting, the abundance of his planting; he is Yhwh’s blessing. As we will see below, this messiah-of-Yhwh is to mediate Yhwh’s blessing-authority on earth, and he will do so by bringing out order to the chaos of the nations. He will Yhwh’s gardener within his fields.

**if Yhwh personally addresses the nations in wrath, then, when he turns to the messiah, he makes him the instrument of that wrath, the “rod of iron”.  The messiah will, then, be the angry face of Yhwh to nations. His anger, however, is not an end in and of itself, but an anger that is born from the desire to bring about order and blessing. In other words, the nations, the kings, the warriors and the princes stand in the way of Yhwh’s blessing. They thwart the Creator’s intent for his creation. The messiah is to straighten what is crooked. If we look back to Psalm 1, we saw how there was an event that was going to lift the ‘blessed everyman who loves Torah’ to a position of strength. An event was going to turn the world upside down by turning it right-side up—lifting up the lowly and casting down the high. Here, in Psalm 2, we see how that event is one that is carried out through the messiah. This is confirmed later in the psalm where it says the ‘sons’ anger will cause them to “perish in the path”. The last portion of Psalm 1 says “For Yhwh knows the way of the righteous but the way of the wicked shall perish.” The use of the two words “way” and “perish” identifies the son’s anger as the vehicle of Yhwh’s judgment in Psalm 1. **

“You are my son, today I have begotten you.” Yhwh is not here adopting the messiah. Rather, he is covenanting himself to him, making them family and, specifically, father and son. This act of covenant is not metaphorical but an act of ‘begetting’, as if Yhwh were a mother giving birth to the messiah. Here is where the psalm finds its center—the messiah has now been made into a divine son through Yhwh’s act of covenant. He is no longer ‘merely human’. The covenant has opened up a space within Yhwh, a space so intimate that it is described as the messiah’s being born-by-Yhwh, such that he is no longer a human son but a god-son. This is covenant power, the elevation of the messiah into the heavenly realm. As we will see, this space opened up within Yhwh opens up the ability for the messiah and Yhwh to speak to each other like a father and son. And this dialogue will show us an aspect of Yhwh’s heart that otherwise would remain hidden. The covenant therefore is a theophany—a revealing of Yhwh. Through the son we see the father.

Just ask me

                And I will grant nations / as your inheritance

                And as your possession / the ends of the earth

The space the covenant opens permits something that otherwise we might not imagine possible—it allows the king to “ask Yhwh” for the world. It opens up the realm of petition. More importantly, however, is the fact that this realm of petition is first mentioned by Yhwh—once he has begotten his son his first words to him are “just ask me…”. Just as Yhwh is the one ‘begets’ the messiah and initiates the covenant, so too is he the one, within the covenant, to initiate the intimacy of their relationship. His first words are not a request for the messiah to give him something but, instead, and astonishingly, but a request-for-a-request. Yhwh wants to give. And, even more marvelously, what he wants to give is not something small—he wants to give the messiah the nations and the ends of the earth. The Creator wants to give the messiah his creation, the Cosmos.

Here we see the image of the Enthroned One in the enthroned king-messiah. Yhwh is not granting the nations and the ends of the earth to ‘everyman’. He is granting them to this son because this son has been installed as Yhwh’s regent and king, as his image. As we will see below, the grant of creation to the king is for the purpose of the messiah’s bringing order to it. That is the particular prerogative of the king—to order and protect the realm given to him. This is Adamic mission. Here, that ‘realm’ is all of the nations and creation itself.

In other words this is not simply a gift that does not require a response. The Enthroned One grants to his messiah the entire world so that he will bring order to it, just as his father does in the heavenly realm. The gift doesn’t end in him.  Through him, the will of heaven will be on earth. We might say, this is a gift with a mission.

You shall break them / with an iron rod

                Like a potter’s vessel / you shall pulverize them

It is perhaps curious that the grant of the nations and the ends of the earth is for the purpose of “breaking them with an iron rod” and “pulverizing them like a potter’s vessel.”

However, this verse must be understood within the context of the entire psalm. We will recall that the nations also wanted to “break” their fetters and cords. We saw there that the destroyers were going to be destroyed. By matching their act of destruction with Yhwh’s utter destruction, we are to understand that if they nations persist in their rebellion then they will be engulfed in destruction.

Also, the following verse puts a stop to any idea that Yhwh’s intent is their destruction. Instead, he wants them to submit to his messiah. He wants them serve Yhwh and kiss the son. He does not want his anger and wrath to flare up such that the son would wield the rod of iron against hem and make them “perish in the path”. The Creator wants his creation maintained. He wants life.

So now / O kings / think carefully

                Be admonished / o earthly rulers

The psalm now shifts speakers, the one who opened the psalm and expressed puzzlement at the nation’s attempts to break free from Yhwh and his anointed. Notice how the tone is somewhat similar, though. This is clearly the same “character” who began the psalm. After the revelation has been made to the nations of Yhwh’s installing his messiah on Zion, and after it has been revealed to them that they have been granted to the messiah, now they must ponder these things, the psalmist says. In other words, before you attempt to break free from the messiah and consign yourself to destruction, think about what has been revealed to you. What has been revealed, then, was given in order to effect a conversion, a change. It was to extend them mercy so that they would realign themselves with Yhwh and his anointed and, in this way, with creation itself—because all of creation has been given over to the messiah such that to rebel against the messiah and Yhwh is to rebel against creation itself.

**that rebellion against Yhwh and the messiah is a rebellion against creation. If the nations believed Yhwh to be a local deity, or a deity that did not have all of creation under his sovereign control, then an act of rebellion against him would not be one against creation itself. However, Yhwh is the creator. He has nations and the ‘ends of the earth’ under his sovereign control and, more importantly, he owns them such that he can give them to his son/messiah. The revelation to the nations is not simply that Yhwh is really strong and has granted that strength to his son—it is revealing to the nations the nature of Yhwh’s authority. He is more than ‘really strong’. He is the Creator who owns creation. For this reason, any act of rebellion is a rebellion against the Creator and, thus, his creation. By granting creation to his messiah/son, moreover, he is investing that messiah with all of that authority such that a rebellion against the son/messiah is also a rebellion against Creation. It is key, therefore, that the grant to messiah/son is as expansive as it is, because he grants all of creation to him without remainder,  because otherwise a rebellion against the messiah and Yhwh would not, ultimately, coincide. But, because Yhwh has, in a way, given all of himself to his son, then to “see the son is to see the father” and to attack the son is attack the father.***

**in light of Psalm 1, we now see a few things. Psalm 1 provides that Torah is the source of blessing for everyman; it is that which makes the blessed man fruitful. Psalm 2 now shows us that the whole of creation has been entrusted to the messiah (the Davidic son). If all of creation is undergirded and given power through Torah, then all of creation is given protection and security by being granted to the messiah. The messiah is not what makes the world fruitful; the messiah is what protects the fruitfulness of the world. Sinai and Zion, Torah and David. Temple and King—Adam-in-the-Garden.

For the wicked, to rebel against Torah, led to their perishing. For the nations, to rebel against the messiah, leads to their destruction. The covenant with creation is to be paired with the covenant to Adam-and-then-David. ***

Serve Yhwh with fear

                And rejoice with trembling

Kiss the son / lest he be angry

                And you perish in the path

For his anger flares up quickly

Happy are all / who seek refuge in him.

Now that the rashness of nations has been given a reason to pause, the psalmist fills that space with a call to the nations to obey Yhwh by submitting to his son as his vassals. The impetus for their conversion to the son, as we have seen, has been an expression of the fearful authority of Yhwh in rebuking them and displaying the authority and power given to his son. He has attempted, through this dramatic form of anger, to reorient them away from rebellion and towards service and obedience. This face of Yhwh is clearly not intended to turn them away but to bring them close, to bring them within the ambit of his son so they can experience blessing and refuge.

But if, after Yhwh reveals to them the true nature of himself and his son, they continue in their rebellion and refuse vassalage then the son has been given the rod of iron to destroy and obliterate them. This anger, this second anger, is not the anger of mercy as it was before. It is the anger of the gardener toward the disease or vermin ruining his crops and, for the safety of the crop, must be destroyed.

It is important to understand the logic of this—to refuse the son is to refuse Yhwh because Yhwh has begotten him and granted to him—and him alone—all of creation. Because Yhwh and his son represent all of authority, without remainder, then refusal of their authority, after it has been shown to them, has no place for mercy any longer. There is no ‘place’ from which mercy can be drawn at this point because everything has been made clear to them and yet they still persist. It is, in a word, utterly demonic in its rebellion. No longer is there a possible way of understanding their rebellion as consisting in a misperception of Yhwh and his son, of thinking of them as lesser beings who do not inhabit the entire scope of being and sovereignty. It is precisely because they have that perception that Yhwh grants them a merciful anger in an attempt to convert them. But no longer. This is, in a sense, an unforgivable offense. Again, there is no space from which mercy can spring.

But, for those who do convert to the son, for those kings who present their nations as vassals to him, then, the sphere of Yhwh’s covenant blessing opens up—and now, the entire cosmos, in him, becomes ‘happy’ and ‘blessed’. This is amazing when read in the context of Psalm 1—there, the Torah, which is given to Israel is the source of supernatural blessing. In Torah is the Israelite made into himself because he is brought outside himself and into Yhwh’s sphere. Here, in Psalm 2, the nations are given that same access but now it is not through Torah but the messiah/son. Psalm 1 is Sinai—Psalm 2 is Zion. And the ‘dividing wall’ between the two psalms is brought down in Jesus Christ, the eternal son of God.

The close connection again between Yhwh and his son—service to Yhwh includes kissing the son, both of them rooted in the knowledge that one should fear a failure to acknowledge and obey them. 

Ps 1

Blessed / is the man / who has not walked / by the counsel / of the wicked

Has not stood / in the way / of the sinful

Has not sat / in the gathering / of scoffers

But / in Yhwh’s Torah / is his delight

In Yhwh’s Torah / will he muse / by day and by night

So shall he be / like a tree

Transplanted / by running waters

Which shall yield its fruit / in its season

And its foliage / shall not wither

Not so the wicked

But they are like chaff / that the wind tosses

Therefore / the wicked shall not rise up / in judgment

Nor sinners / in the assembly of the righteous

For Yhwh knows / the way of the righteous

But the way of the wicked / shall perish

The psalmist begins in blessing, but it is framed in the negative, by what the blessed man avoids. There is something profound in this—that the state of blessing is not simply to be found in a positive fashion, as in, in what the blessed man possesses, but is, perhaps first and foremost, found in what he does not possess, in what he avoids. One might analogize this to a healthy person. They are healthy because, at least in part, they do not possess disease or corruption. They are ‘functioning properly’. So too, the blessed man “does not walk by the counsel of the wicked”. He does not “stand in the way of the sinful”. And he does not “sit in the gathering of scoffers.”

From the negative, the psalmist then moves to the positive. If the first portion can be analogized to the avoidance of disease, then this portion focuses on the sources of blessedness, what engenders it. Here, in contrast to the three sources of avoidance, we have the single source of Torah as the source of blessedness.

Throughout the psalms, Yhhw’s Torah is described as Yhwh’s ‘way’ and as offering counsel. In other words, what the wicked provide is a mockery of the true “way” and source of counsel. 

The blessed man delights in Torah and his mediation is the planting of the seed of Torah within him. The following stanza describes the effect of Torah as it takes root and grows within the blessed man.

The blessed man becomes “like a tree”. The effect of Torah is important to reflect on. First, the psalmist finds the realm of vegetation to be the most appropriate description of the effect of Torah and the effect of judgment. For the blessed man, he becomes “like a tree”. The psalmist chooses the image of the tree, likely, for several reasons. At least initially, we see how the tree is an image of both receptivity and productivity. The tree must receive water in order to flourish. However, with the water, the tree also produces fruit. More deeply still is the fact that the water flows down into the trees roots and is somewhat hidden in its lifegiving abilities. It is steadily transformed inot the life of the tree. Yet, what is manifest, what is evident, what is clear and on display is the fruit. The fruit is there “for all to see”. And, in many ways, this is the purpose of the water—to be taken up into the tree, and for the tree to apply its own creative powers, and for the fruit to be the manifestation of the water-and-tree.

We will return to this later.

The fact that the tree is transplanted is also key and worth reflecting on. The psalmist could have easily left this detail out. He could have simply said that he is like a tree by running water. However, he wants to make an important point. The act of meditating upon Torah is “ecstatic”. It removes the person from their mundane realm and places them within Yhwh’s realm. Placed as the gateway to all the psalms, the point here being made is that meditation upon the psalms, as Torah, is an act of transplanting, a removal into Yhwh’s realm where perpetual, life giving water is provided and where one’s potential for fruit production is fully realized. As we will see, it is also the realm of perpetual life. In this way, Torah removes the man from a realm of vanity, where things strive to achieve their potential, in security and in perpetuity, but routinely fail. They either fail to realize their potential or they realize it but are unable to maintain or, as with everything, they die. Yet, in Torah, they “transplanted” from this realm of vanity and planted in another realm—where water is ever-flowing, where their fruit-potential is always realized and where death does not enter. We might say, they are transplanted back into Eden and they, themselves, become trees of life.

What is important to see is that Torah here is an engine-of-blessedness; it is a ‘realm of blessedness’; it is power abundant. It is not, in other words, simply a text. It perfects what is lacking in the realm of nature and vanity but it does so by brining far beyond itself. We could put it this way—the psalmist is not, through Torah, perfected “in himself” but he is perfected by being brought out of himself or, better, beyond himself, and into Yhwh’s realm. Within that realm, all of the ‘natural’ vanity of things is surpassed—water remains and does not dry up; fruit is produced “in season” and without interruption; and, it is safeguarded against death by its leaves remaining green. This is a realm without the fear inherent in vanity—the fear of loss and the inability to protect against the forces of chaos and entropy. 

By placing this psalm at the beginning, it shows us that every psalm is going to be this movement—as Torah, when one meditates upon it, one is taken from the realm of vanity and placed within this realm of ever-water, ever-fruitfulness and ever-life. The meditating person is taken into Yhwh’s Forever, this realm of ever-power, ever-production, ever-movement; a realm of staggering beauty and goodness. This is where one should look in every psalm. This is the ‘heart of the psalter’.

It brings the psalmist to his potential by taking him beyond himself and into Yhwh’s sphere or realm of influence. Torah “transplants” the man into the realm of blessedness. He is taken from one realm and placed into another. Within that realm he is placed by “running streams”. He becomes ‘supernatural’. He is ‘transplanted’ from a purely natural realm of growth and flourishing, and is planted in  Yhwh’s realm. This is important to notice—what is “possible” in the normal course of events, what “nature” ordinarily can accomplish, is here dramatically superseded when Torah becomes it’s source of vitality and growth. This not even the realm of simple abundance. It is the realm of perpetual and abiding and overwhelming life. The blessed man becomes, himself, a ‘tree of life’.

There is an important parallel between the man’s mediation on Torah “day and night” and the fact that Torah places the psalmist next to “running water” and that his foliage “shall not wither”. These are mirror images of the other. The psalmist engages in a perpetual and abiding meditation of Torah; and he becomes like a tree that transplanted next to water that is perpetual and abiding. To the extent that he pours himself into Torah, does Torah pour itself into him. Moreover, to the extent that he gives his ‘time’ Torah, does Torah give ‘time’ to him, by placing him in the forever of its foliage not withering.

Just as Torah elevates and, in so doing, fulfills the psalmist, so too, in a sense, does the psalmist’s meditations bring Torah to its completion. That is the “picture” of the psalm—the interaction of the water and the tree in the production of fruit and longevity. The water and the tree are made for each other and both find their realization in the production of fruit, as they also find their realization in the longevity of the tree. We might say it thus—as nature is realized in grace, so too is grace realized in nature, and both of these find their realization in the ‘fruit’ and ‘immortality’. This realm of water, production and longevity is a realm of blessing. It is, importantly, the realm of Torah. The psalmist finds his “delight” in Torah.

From this realm of secure provision, production and longevity, the psalmist turns to the realm of the wicked. Like the blessed man, they also are ‘transplanted’ but it is not a transplanting of blessedness. The realm they are removed to is one of destruction and perishing. It is the antithesis of the realm of blessedness. The blessed man is made secure as a tree and given ample nourishment. The wicked, on the other hand, are compared to chaff, which has so little stability that the slightest wind can blow it away. While the blessed produce fruit, the wicked are compared to chaff, which is the leftover ‘dross’ of a harvest. Again, it is the antithesis of the blessed man. The blessed man produces, the wicked man not only has no power of production in himself, nor receives it from the divine realm, but the wicked are the trash of the vegetative realm. 

The blessed have an ability to be productive; they are trees. While that can’t be realized without water, they have the potential. The wicked, by contrast, do not contain within themselves a productive capacity. No water is going to enable them to produce fruit. They are only good ‘for burning’ or for discarding.

In this psalm, man is moved—either into the realm of blessedness or into the realm of destruction. There is no ‘third realm’. One is either a transplanted tree or chaff. There is no other metaphor used to describe a person.

The psalm began describing how the blessed do not engage with the wicked. The psalm ends with how the wicked are not permitted to actively engage with the righteous. The psalm begins with the wicked apparently in some form of control, in that they are the ones who are forming the gatherings that the blessed does not participate in. The psalm ends, however, with the righteous forming the gatherings that wicked must submit to. The blessed man has become the righteous. Between the beginning and the end the righteous has been lifted up, while the wicked have been brought low. In the words of the psalm, the blessed man has been made into a transplanted tree while the wicked have been made into chaff.

The question is when does this inversion occur—when are the low raised up and the high brought low? What as the triggering event? It appears that there is a time when an assembly is called and a judgment rendered—we might say, a court case. This purpose of the gathering and the judgment is to identify the righteous and, in so doing, to place them in their righteous-power. The act of judgment will be who Yhwh ‘knows’, because Yhwh “knows the righteous” but, by implication, he “does not know the wicked”. This act of knowing is an act of judgment and it is what elevates the righteous to blessing and power. “I know my sheep….”. The act of “not knowing” is also performative—by “not being known” the wicked perish. “Those who do not know me are already judged…”

We see in this act of judgment how the ‘world of the psalm’ is judged and made right—the psalm opened with the “way of the wicked” that the blessed man avoided. It ends, however, not with the way of the wicked but with the “way of righteous”. That is the “way” known to Yhwh which leads to blessedness. The “way of wicked”, on the other hand, leads to perishing. The psalmist, then, crafts the psalm to represent the act of judgment, through the repetition of the “way” and how the beginning-way is later not even mentioned and goes to perishing, while the way that is shown at the end to be the righteous way, leads to ‘running streams, fruit bearing and ever-green life’.

Perhaps in this the psalm shows a deeper level—that the judgment will be the act of transplanting. When Yhwh gathers together the righteous and the wicked, and when the righteous are lifted up because they are “known to Yhwh”, then they will be like the trees transplanted by running streams. In other words, the psalm operates on an “already-but-not-yet” timeframe. The blessed man, now, meditates on Torah day and night—and that all-encompassing meditation is made into his being planted, now, by running streams, fruit bearing and ever green leaves. But also, in the future, this ‘seed’ will bloom through a definitive act of judgment, when the wicked will be made to perish and the blessed firmly rooted in righteousness.

This is captured in the verb tenses used—he “will be” like a tree; the wicked “shall perish”; his delight “is” in Torah; he meditates on it “day and night”. What is occurring now—the avoidance of the wicked and the delight in Torah—is the seed that forms the basis for the judgment that will make him into a tree and the wicked into chaff.

The psalm begins in the human realm but quickly moves into the realm of vegetation. The psalmist envisions the blessed man as a tree, transplanted to a realm of perpetual and abiding life and vitality, while the wicked are chaff, embodying the life of pure vanity and destruction.

And, it is Torah that determines the vegetation. For those who delight in Torah, Torah becomes in them the beginning of the life of blessedness as well as a pledge of future abundance and security. In the words of the psalm, Torah makes them into transplanted trees. Their delight in Torah becomes their blessing and abundance. For those, however, who avoid Torah and take counsel with themselves and the wicked, they are on the path to decay and vanity with a final judgment of destruction awaiting them.

The For the psalmist, the reality of Torah is clothed in these powerful images. It is in these images that the delight that flows from meditating on Torah is portrayed in words. This “delight” is the

The psalm can be read as embodying the effect of Torah. When the Israelites are prepared to enter the Land, Yhwh tells them that he has put before them life and death. Life is chosen by loving Yhwh, walking in his ways and being objedient to his commands. Death is chosen by turning away from Yhwh, not being obedient and falling into idolatry.

The way of life ends with entering and possessing the Land and life abundant. The way of death ends in destruction and not living long in the Land. What is key is that Torah, or obedience to Yhwh, is being placed before them as they are en route to the Land. They are, in other words, in the process of being transplanted from Egypt to the Land, just as the psalmist here describes the blessed man as being “transplanted” to living water. The goal, then, is the Land. Torah is the Land’s nourishment. It is what will strengthen the people; it is what will accommodate them to the Land’s own holiness and blessedness. To the extent they do not accommodate themselves to the Land’s requirements, they will not be permitted to live there and will perish.

What is also clear from this passage and the remaining Scriptures is that if the people were to fully and truly accommodate themselves to Torah they would not simply enter the Land and live there and prosper abundantly. But they would have all of this in safety and perpetuity. The threat and anxiety of ‘the enemy’ would be placated and there would be a peace that would be a type of completion of the heavenly abundance. The peace, the freedom from fear and anxiety, would itself be understood as a heavenly reality, something that can only come down from above. It would be a visible marvel, a glory, a sacrament.

Of course, just as with Adam and Israel-and-the-calf, the promise was not to become a full reality, but was to continuously oscillate between possession and loss. This dynamic left the Land and the people largely still within the realm of vanity that Adam had subjected it to—to the perpetual oscillation that never arrives at its goal but always strains for it; that sense that nothing ever “arrives” and, even if it can be achieved, it cannot be achieved in perpetuity. It is, in other words, always surrounded by anxiety. It edges ever so close to the fulfillment of the curse as much as it seeks to obtain the promise.

In this psalm, that reality of Torah is fully on display. It looks upon the man who delights in Torah and sees in him an already-but-not-yet Person-of-the-Land. He is “like” a transplanted (read an exodus) tree, moved to the Land. This beginning, this transplantation, takes him from the realm of vanity and places him within the realm of blessing. However, the man has not fully arrived. He has not fully achieved possession. It is still in the future, something to come. He “will” produce fruit in season. The fully realization cannot take place until the wicked—the threat and the anxiety—and fully dealt with. Until they, in the words of the psalm, perish and are “blown away like chaff”. There will come a day when the courtroom will be convened and the high will be brought low, and the low raised up. And then, after that judgment is rendered, the Land will become truly the Land because it will be inhabited by those who can pass through its gates in holiness.

And so, the psalter places before us, in the very first psalm, life and death. For those who meditate upon the psalms day and night, who delight in them, they become the vehicle whereby the Land will be possessed. They will also become the vehicle of transplanting, of turning the reader “into a tree planted by running water”. And, in this way, they will become the pledge of the future possession of the Land, when the Land, through the people, will become truly the Land.

In Paul we see all of this reaching its culmination. In Revelation, we see it being actualized.

For Paul, the Cosmos has been subjected to vanity. Moreover, the Torah, which was supposed to bring life, has, instead, only brought death. In other words, the only thing that the Torah has “activated” are the curses. It has been waiting for the proper servant who would bring its life. For that reason, the vanity that the earth has been subjected to, now exists within the human heart—it cannot achieve what it wants and is divided against itself. For that reason, the Land cannot be fully the Land. The Land needs its holy Adam, and that holiness is, under the covenant, found in Torah.

In Christ, though, the new, spiritual Adam, the Torah has found its Adam and, through him, found the one through whom its fountain of life can pour. That is how Christ, through the Law, put the Law to death. He put it to death by dying its curses and unleashing its life. And in so doing, he, Christ, now becomes the source of life. He becomes the sun that radiates the Cosmos. And, through him, the Land begins to come into focus. What was over the horizon, what remained obscured in the dessert of vanity, is now seen. And now, it groans in anticipation, sighing for its Adams to come to it. And here we see how, or why, incorporation into Christ becomes so key for the Cosmos—because it is through Christ that the Cosmos finds its Adams that makes the Cosmos into the Land it was intended to be. In Christ, man is Christified, re-Adamized, made into the vessels of holiness that would make the Cosmos and Land the secure and perpetual bountiful blessing that Psalm 1 envisions.

And so, for those ‘in Christ’, he becomes the Torah, the source of delight, the one who should be meditated on day and night. He is the one who will be the “running water” that will enable trees to produce fruit in season and for their leaves to never wither.

In John, Jesus is the “Logos of God” become flesh. He is Life become flesh. The “life” that was put before Israel, the abundant heaven-life that would mark them in the Land—the blessings of the covenant—became flesh and is Jesus. In other words, the object of delight and meditation in Psalm 1 has become flesh. Now, Jesus is this meditative object of attention and delight. Moreover, with the woman at the well, Jesus describes himself as living water that will never run out. He later describes himself as the vine and those who are “in him” as the fruit. Of course, throughout, he “is the resurrection” and those who are “in him” will never die.

This reflection can only deepen. In Ezekiel, the prophet has a vision of future time when a stream will issue from the Temple. It will begin small but soon becomes a torrent of “living water”. On the banks are many trees whose leaves do not wither and who produce fruit “every month”. Their leaves are used for healing. This image is then picked up in Revelation which now describes a single tree that bears twelve fruits every month, and whose leaves are for the healing of the nations.

Ps 149

Sing to Yhwh / a new song

                His praise / in the congregation / of recipients of loyal love

Let Israel rejoice / in their maker

                Let Zion’s sons / exult in their king

Let them praise / his name / with dancing

                Let them celebrate him / with music of timbrel and lyre

Because Yhwh / takes delight in his people

                Glorifying the oppressed / with saving victory

We saw in the previous psalm how the covenant between Yhwh and Israel lifts them into a glory that exceeds anything contained or reflected by heaven and earth. They are brought ‘out of the cosmos’ and into Yhwh’s own glory. From there, because they are allowed to participate within Yhwh’s glory, they themselves become objects of reverence.

In this psalm we are, in a sense, taken within that sphere, where Israel stands to praise Yhwh. This is, in other words, a supernatural liturgy—a liturgy given to Yhwh that cannot be given unless Yhwh raises his people beyond the Cosmos (beyond heaven and earth), beyond the created sphere, and into his own uncreated sphere. Yhwh raises them by making them into “the congregation of recipients of loyal love”—that is Israel. That is the source of their rejoicing. When the praise Yhwh as “their maker”, they are not reaching back to Adam but Abraham, the father of the covenant. It was through him and covenant forged with him, that they were raised into Yhwh’s uncreated sphere. That is when they were “made” into Israel, into the congregation of recipients of loyal love. It was then that they became “Zion’s sons”. It was then that Yhwh became “their king”.

Within this sphere of supernatural praise we find “dancing” and celebration with the music of timbrel and lyre. This is the people’s reveling in Yhwh, their king. It is exuberant and uncontained and unconstrained. But the reveling does not simply ascend to Yhwh, it also descends upon the people. Yhwh “takes delight” in his people. Notably, he “glorifies the oppressed with saving victory.” In other words, he raises them into a visible position of power and authority, taking from them their oppression and given them its opposite. If the people show their delight in Yhwh with reveling, Yhwh’s shows his delight in redeeming them, raising them up to glory, establishing them in power. 

Let the recipients of loyal love / jubilate in the triumph

                Let them shout / for joy/ where they lie prostrate

Let high praises / be in their throats

                And two-edged swords / in their hands,

For punishment / to be executed upon the nations

                Chastisement upon the peoples

For their kings / to be manacled with chains

                And their nobles / with iron fetters

For judgment to be executed upon them / as decreed

                That will mean honor / for all recipients / of his loyal love.

Here find the realization of the previous stanza. The people’s being brought into Yhwh’s sphere is now a cacophony of praise—they jubilate; they shout for joy; they lie prostrate; they have “high praises in their throats”. Again, we see here a praise that is without bounds, is wild with joy in Yhwh. And, again, this is because they are “recipients” of Yhwh’s loyal-love.

As they are raised into Yhwh’s sphere they are, crucially, also empowered. This is not simply a spiritual ascending. When the ascend to their King, they become kings on earth. They have “two-edged swords in their hands.” They have become the true rulers of the earth; the true Adams, meant to establish justice and peace against the forces of chaos. They have been raised above the Cosmos and, as such, stand over nations and people and, indeed, their kings. They have the authority to “bind them”, with manacles and iron fetters. They will issue judgment.

We see here how deeply the people stand within the authority and glory of Yhwh—as they stand within his sphere, they partake of his ruling authority. The Cosmos is set to right in Yhwh, through is vessels of “loyal love”.

This mixture of liturgy and ruling, of exuberant praise and redemption-into-power-and-authority marks the book of Revelation. Throughout, images of ruling are interspersed with heavenly praise.

Ps 148

Praise Yhwh / in the heavens

                Praise him / in the heights

Praise him / all his angels

                Praise him / all his hosts

Praise him / sun and moon

                Praise him / all shining stars

Praise him / heaven of heavens

                And water / above the heavens

Let them praise / Yhwh’s name

                Because at his command / they were created

And he set them in position / for ever and ever

                Making a rule / that will never lapse.

We have seen in other psalms how the psalmist seeks to give Yhwh the unending praise that that mirrors his own Unending, and that he does so by imploring Yhwh’s people to continue the praise throughout every generation. The barrier of death is thereby overcome by and through the ongoing life of the People. The covenant power of Yhwh to continue their life is, in a way, their immortality. Here, the psalmist attempts to accomplish something similar—but not simply by horizontal and temporal ongoing life of the community but vertically, up and down the entire chain of being, stretching all the way up to heaven and to the deep of the earth.

The psalm begins “in the heavens” and “in the heights”. We are in the celestial sphere, where Yhwh’s temple and retinue are. This ‘where’ Yhwh is. When we move to the earth, the psalmist implores the earth to praise Yhwh “from” (not “in”) the earth.

From within heaven, the psalmist calls upon “all” of Yhwh’s “angels and hosts.” From there, he descends to the “sun and moon” and “all shining stars”. He then asks “heaven of heavens and the water above the heavens.”

For the psalmist there is a type of eternal order to the heavens. Although the heavenly powers are created, their ruling authority “will never lapse.” Their position as rulers is something guaranteed by Yhwh. He “set them in position for ever and ever”. And yet, as stunning and magnificent as their rule and authority is, as stunning as their perceived ‘forever’, Yhwh stands even above them. This is crucial to grasp—the psalmist is clearly overwhelmed by the stately authority and majesty of the heavens and the heavenly hosts. They are astonishing. And that astonishment remains. And yet, as if hidden in a light that is so profound it is dark, there is Yhwh, who created the entire panoply. He almost infinitely transcends even their glory. They are but an expression of his “command”. Everything about them—from their creation to their ruling authority and power—comes from Yhwh. As such, their glory is only an analogous glory to Yhwh’s. And that is why this entire spectrum of heaven turns to him in praise. Although they would seem to be the recipients of praise because of their glory and power and majesty, they are, themselves, to orient away from themselves and toward Yhwh in praise.

It is a deeply profound thing—that the praise of heaven is itself a theophany of Yhwh. In their praise of Yhwh’s glory, we see, in a way unavailable otherwise, Yhwh’s own glory. Their ‘turning toward’ Yhwh reveals Yhwh.

Praise Yhwh / from the earth

                Sea monsters / and all the deeps

Fire and hail / snow and mist

                Storm wind / that acts upon his word

Mountains / and all hills

                Fruit trees / and all cedars

Wild animals / and all of the domestic kind

                Reptiles / and winged birds

Kings of the earth / and all peoples

                Rulers and all judges / of the earth

Young men / and maidens too

                Old men / and youngsters alike

Let them praise Yhwh’s name

                Because his name alone / is supreme

                His majesty is over / earth and heavens

And he has raised a horn / for his people

                Even renown / for all the recipients of his loyal love

                For the Israelites / the people close to him.

The psalmist now turns to the earth. It stands in contrast to the  heavenly realm. The earth is vibrant, full of movement, dynamism and duality. The psalmist refers to the entire spectrum, alternating between a type of ‘left’ and ‘right’ or ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ approach—fire and hail; mountains and hills; fruit trees and (non-fruit trees) cedars; wild and domestic animals; reptiles (ground) and winged birds (air); rulers and judges; young men and maidens; young and old. The earth is marked by this duality, which lends to it vibrancy that is not felt as much in the heavenly realm.

This dynamism and duality is the earth’s form of beauty, in contrast to the heavenly realm. This is earth’s glory, what marks it as Yhwh’s creation and the result of his command.

The concluding lines are remarkable in what they imply. The psalmist declares that Yhwh is deserving of praise because it is his name alone that is “supreme”, his visible and apparent majesty is “over earth and heavens.” In many ways this sums up and concludes the psalm, especially with is statement of “earth and heavens.” Just as the earth is marked by a duality so too is the Cosmos—heaven and earth. That is the entire spectrum of the created order. And now, the psalmist as called that entire spectrum to orient itself toward its Creator.

But, the psalmist doesn’t stop there. Apparently, there is a glory that exceeds the glory contained within and reflected by the Cosmos in their creation and ordering, even exceeding the creation of mankind itself—the redemption of “his people”, the “Israelites”, “the people close to him.” It is here where the Cosmos is lifted outside of itself and enters into a glory that it does not contain on its own—a glory that is beyond heaven and earth. Because now, even though Yhwh “alone” is supreme and majestic, “renown” is given to all who receive Yhwh’s “loyal-love”, his covenant commitment and fidelity. In other words, they are not just brought into his glory but they partake of it. They become ‘glorious’ in his ‘glory’. It is here, so to speak, where the barrier between Yhwh and his creatures is crossed, where they are brought up into his sphere.

There are several things that can be remarked on here. First, in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus describes himself as being given all authority on earth during his earthly ministry.  However, after he ascends he describes himself as being given all authority on heaven and earth. His death and resurrection has meant that he now sits enthroned in heaven, and therefore has united heaven and earth again to each other, under his rule. In light of this psalm, he is the proper psalmists, the one who can speak to both heaven and earth and direct them toward the Father, because he stands in authority over them.

Further, for those who are baptized into Jesus, they are lifted above the cosmos as the Israelites here are by way of the covenant. But those who stand ‘in Christ’ are lifted higher. They now, as John makes clear in Revelation, stand above the angels. The angels prostrate themselves to those “in Christ”, not simply because they stand within his glory but because they partake of it, and therefor partake of the divine nature itself. In other words, they become gods. Obviously, not by a power of their own—they are part of the Cosmos and therefore cannot stand above it by themselves—but by Christ’s power, through the Spirit. It is astonishing—they stand in a glory more radiant than the heavenly denizens.