O Yhwh / who may reside / in your tent
Who may
dwell / on your holy mountain
The psalmist begins by posing a question to Yhwh. He wants
to know who can reside in Yhwh’s tent and dwell on his holy mountain. The key
term here is ‘holy’. Throughout the scriptures, holiness is a dangerous thing.
Moses has to remove anything covering his feet at the burning bush because it
is holy ground. When Israel approaches Sinai, the holiness is so intense that
they must avoid even touching the mountain. The improper offering of sacrifices
in the temple is an act of sacrilege and can, and does, destroy the officiant.
The stories surrounding the arc are replete instances of the power and danger
of holiness. When Isaiah is lifted up into Yhwh’s heavenly temple, it is so
charged with holiness that he falls down, and is terrified by his
uncleanliness. The point in all of this is that the psalmist is justly
concerned if he intends or desires to “reside in Yhwh’s tent” or “dwell on his
holy mountain.”
For many of the instances of that speak to the danger of
holiness, they occur almost by accident, or, at least, not intentionally. A
main exception to this is the officiating within the Temple—those regulations
are clearly laid out and the priest intends to fulfill them.
I think a point of departure here, then, is the story of
Sinai and the priesthood. At Sinai, the people are told to stay away from the
mountain and to purify themselves, which they do. However, Moses does ascend
the mountain where he stays with Yhwh for forty days, which is when he is given
the Torah along with the specifications of the sanctuary and liturgical rites.
Notably, this is not a momentary stay. In a very real sense, Moses is the first
‘priest’ in this regard because he ‘resides’ and ‘dwell’s with Yhwh ‘on his
holy mountain’. He is, in other words, the ideal of this psalm. It is important
to recall that when Moses leaves Yhwh’s Presence and descends to the people,
his face is radiating the light-of-the-presence. His contact with the holy of
Yhwh made him, too, holy. He radiated Yhwh’s Presence-Holiness.
So, this is not an idol question. It was that seeks the
psalmist own self-preservation. If he gets this answer correct, he may become
like Moses and the burning bush—consumed with Yhwh’s glory but not destroyed.
If he gets it wrong, he may become like the many who approach Yhwh improperly
and are destroyed.
What follows is, perhaps unsurprising given the above, is a
type of ‘ten commandments’ that permit the ‘dweller’ to be in Yhwh’s presence.
They function like an examination of conscience, something the dweller can
recite to himself in order to determine whether he can dwell in Yhwh’s holy
presence.
He who walks blamelessly
And
does / what is right
And speaks / the truth / in his heart
The psalmist begins his ‘litany of the dweller’ with three
positive statements, three things the dweller does.
First, the dweller ‘walks blamelessly’. This will be matched
in the following negative three statements with “he has not tripped over his
tongue”.
The statement appears to be generic and difficult to
describe exactly what it means to “walk blamelessly”. The same can be said
about doing “what is right”. We do know that that ‘walking’ is an image of a
person’s entire life, of their choice-after-choice mode of living. In psalm 1,
for example, the wise one does not “walk by the counsel of the wicked”. In
other psalms, sin is described as ‘faltering’ or ‘tripping’, or straying off of
the path. In the new covenant, discipleship is described as ‘walking on the
way’. Perhaps what we can say, then, is that the term is general because of how
broad its application is—the entirety of life. And that may be why it is the
first on the list—it is the most all-encompassing of the positive statements.
The pilgrim, then, would ask himself this very general and broad question to
orient himself, to direct his attention toward what is being asked of him. And
it is, in its most general, but also most demanding form—blamelessness. We
could say, with Paul, that he must be ‘immaculate’, ‘spotless’. This what all
of the following actions or inactions are to be oriented to—this utter purity;
this ‘pure sacrifice’ without blemish. And in this we see something
important—that just as the sacrifices offered to Yhwh must be perfect and
without blemish, so too must the pilgrim, except that the pilgrim must not be
only bodily free from defect but also morally free from defect. He must have
acted like a sacrifice in order to be the ‘dweller’ in Yhwh’s presence.
Second, the dweller “does what is right”. This will be
matched by “he has not done evil to his friend”.
Third, the dweller ‘speaks the truth in his heart’. This is
matched by “has not taken up reproach
against his neighbor.”
Having been oriented to a life that is blameless, the
dweller now examines whether he has ‘done what is right’. This will be
complimented by his asking whether he ‘speaks the truth in his heart’. These
two need to be seen together because the first looks to the dwellers actions
while the second looks to whether his speech is one of integrity. In both, the
focus is on what the dweller does, what he accomplishes. He must look, not at
this point to what he has avoided, but to the positive acts he has taken. Has
he always ‘done what is right’ and has he always ‘spoken the truth in his
heart’. In this way, the positive acts required of him are total—they move from
his exterior acts of goodness, to his interior acts.
When the dweller looks at his interior speech—he must have
in mind the fact that the wicked are divided. They say one thing but they
intend another. They try and trap people by their speech because it is not
unified with their interior goals. For the dweller, though, he must do what no
one else can—he must police his interiority. He must analyze whether his speech
is one that is unified with his ‘heart’. Does he speak the truth to himself, or
does he only speak to others ‘what is true’ (and, hence, does he lie). But,
again, this is not merely a negative examination. It is not simply whether he
has avoided lying to himself. Speaking truth to himself is a positive act of
unifying himself, of bringing himself into accord with his outer speech and
actions. This is how he becomes this ‘blameless’ dweller, how he is presented,
immaculate, to Yhwh.
In this we see something important about Yhwh’s own desires,
his own heart we might say—because in this we see the ‘object of Yhwh’s
delight’. This ‘blameless’ person is not simply being given admittance into
Yhwh’s Presence. He is not simply free from fault (although he is). Rather, he
positively radiates beauty to Yhwh. Yhwh desires to be with this person. Yhwh
wants to be in their presence. Yhwh
has made his Presence accessible to them, as the object of absolute and total
desire, so as to draw them to himself, because he, too, wants to be in their
presence. We don’t need, here, to qualify this with statements regarding the
fact that Yhwh does not ‘need’ them; he doesn’t. But need is not the issue. The
issue is one of beauty, glory and love. Those who ‘do what is right’ and who
speak ‘truth in their heart’ are the people that Yhwh wants as dwellers ‘on his
holy mountain’.
He has
not tripped / over his tongue
He has not done evil / to his friend
He has
not taken up reproach / against his neighbor
And here are the three negative acts—the acts that the
dweller avoids doing so that he can be in Yhwh’s presence.
The psalmist formally does something interesting here. The
immediately preceding line was about “speaking truth in the heart” whereas the
first line was about “walking blamelessly”. This first negative, or
prohibitive, statement, then, refers to both. This is important because on the
one hand, it shows that “walking blamelessly” will entail not “tripping over
this tongue”. But, when read in line with the immediately preceding statement,
this also means speaking in a unified manner—not speaking double, representing
one thing while the truth in the heart is another. It is an expertly developed
image, incorporating both lines in a single image.
The second prohibition requires that dweller to have “not
done evil to his friend”. In other words, that he does not betray the bond of
friendship through evil. This will flow into the following prohibition that he
has “not taken up reproach against his neighbor”. This line would seem to align
closely with the positive description of “doing what is right”. The dweller,
then, would first look at his life and determine whether has ‘done what is
right’ but would have his attention drawn into his particular relationship with
‘his friends’. There, when his attention is more focused, he must ask himself
whether he ‘done evil’ to his friend. The answer must be, “No”.
It is important to see that while the first three positive
statements may imply goodness done toward another, it is only in these
prohibitions that we explicitly find a third party mentioned—the friend and the
neighbor. The social fabric is key; the dweller must not be responsible for
tearing it, or causing it to fray. Again—central to this psalm—is that the
dweller cannot be admitted to Yhwh’s presence if he has done these things. This
tearing of social bonds makes him ‘blameworthy’, it makes him repugnant to the
Presence. As such, the Presence desires and effects these bonds, the bonds of
‘friend and neighbor’. For Yhwh, these bonds are a good, a holy thing, and
something that shows forth his Presence. They are transcendent, heavenly, holy
and sacred goods. And if they are transgressed—if the dweller ‘does evil’ or
‘takes up reproach’—then he becomes profane, no longer able to be with Yhwh’s
Presence.
In his eyes / the reprobate is despised
But he
honors those / who fear Yhwh
He has
sworn / to do no wrong / and does not falter
Two more positive actions—the despising and honoring gaze;
and swearing to do no wrong. The heart, the tongue, and now the eyes. For the
dweller, his gaze embodies the dynamic of positive act and prohibited act. It
is the gaze of wisdom, that discerns and separates the good from the bad. It
negatively despises the reprobate, and it positively honors those who fear
Yhwh.
Note that it is not simply a matter of avoidance, of
despising. The gaze must also be drawn toward
someone in order to be a dweller, in order to dwell on Yhwh’s holy
mountain. It must, in other words, be an aesthetic gaze, one that appreciates
the beauty of holiness. The flip side of this appreciation is the ‘despising’
of the reprobate. One cannot truly honor those who fear Yhwh without also
despising its reverse. The dweller, then, must look at his loves and his hates.
He must analyze whether he engages in this ‘despising’ and ‘honoring’, because
these are acts that mirror Yhwh’s own heart. Is he, like David, after Yhwh’s
heart? Does he only despise but not honor, or does he honor and not despise? He
must engage in the full spectrum if he wishes to be one who dwells on Yhwh’s
“holy mountain”.
He has not lent his money / on interest
Nor
taken a bribe / against the innocent
And two concluding negative acts—does not lend money on
interest and does not take a bribe against the innocent.
Both of these involve economic transactions. The first
speaks to the prohibition of chagrining interest—something that was prohibited
between ‘neighbors’ (fellow Israelites) but not between Israelites and
Gentiles. The purpose, seemingly, was because those seeking a loan were already
destitute and to charge interest on top of that would be exploitative, taking
advantage of their weakness. He is supposed to loan money, however, just not
with interest. The second speaks to something similar—not taking a bribe
against “the innocent”. In the first, the person is in a position to aid the
poor, but, instead, exploits that position and adds an additional burden to it.
In the second, the person is in a position to give justice, but, instead, takes
a bribe in order to skew justice. In the first, money goes ‘out’ (in order to
come back, in act of oppression). In the second, money comes ‘in’. In both, the
transaction is exploitative and is aimed at purchasing from the individual what
should not be subject to purchase—mercy and justice. The dweller, then, is one
who gives these, properly. They cannot be bought.
These two prohibitions are the most particular and easily
measured of all the ‘ten commandments’. The first was the most general; the
last is the most particular. And yet, as we saw with the most general (being
‘blameless’), it was not without content. Its generality does not dilute its
demand. Rather, it is all encompassing, and therefore able to hold an
incredible variety of acts. Something similar is at work here, in the reverse.
Although it is particular, it, too, should move toward the general. In other
words, the literal level of these prohibitions are essential, but the dweller
should understand them also as meditative centers—as ways of asking himself
whether he ‘charges interest’ or ‘takes bribes’ in other ways as well. One
thing we see here is that the dweller does not occupy places where to do so
would mean to exploit another person’s weakness. He avoids those ‘spaces’ of
vulnerability and taking advantage of them. He avoids selling what should not
be sold, but given freely.
The one doing these things / shall not be shaken forever.
The concluding line is curious. The litany has be aimed at
determining who can be admitted into Yhwh’s presence and abide on “his holy
mountain”. And yet, here at the end, the psalmist says that the one doing these
things “shall not be shaken forever”, which seems to have no connection with
the Presence.
Read without reference to the opening, the line seems to
mean that those who are ‘blameless’ and abide by the litany will have an
abiding stability, even in the face of being ‘shaken’. In other words, this is
not a promise that the individual will not be shaken, but that it will not
result in his being abidingly or perpetually shaken. The time will end, and he
will return to stability.
Now, the one ”doing these things” is the one can “reside in
your tent” and “dwell on your holy mountain”. The residing and dwelling are
similar to the ‘not being shaken forever’ in that they both (re)turn to an
abiding security. Perhaps the answer is this—that the one who lives his life in
accordance with the litany (one who is ‘blameless’, or ‘immaculate’) is one who
will, eventually, come to ‘reside in your tent’ and ‘dwell on your holy
mountain’, not necessarily in an ‘after-life’ but in the sense of a firm and
secure end or goal of that life. He will not be ‘shaken forever’ from that
path; he will be rewarded; he will come to Yhwh’s holy mountain; his
pilgrimage, his exodus, will end and he will come to Zion and the Temple. We
could, furthermore, say this—that no matter how ‘shaken’ such a righteous
person is, he can always maintain a firm conviction that it will end and that
he will persist through it because Yhwh has promised his Presence to him.