Today, in retirement, I find myself as often in a pew as at an altar or in a pulpit. Among my many learnings from the pew is a realization that the psalms, while faithfully sung, are rarely if ever given even the shortest introduction that might help to integrate them into the liturgy; nor are they likely to be a focus of the homily. Consequently, for many people, the psalm tends to stand in isolation from the rest of the liturgy. I sometimes think that, if we were to ask members of a congregation what role the psalm plays in their worship, or what the psalm has communicated to them, many would find it difficult to respond.
Steps are being taken to address this. One will come across various metrical versions of psalms being sung as hymns. There is an increasing use of responsive psalm singing led by a cantor and drawing a response from the congregation. Usually the repeated congregational response serves as a pointer to the overall theme of the psalm.
In no way am I claiming in these pages to define “the meaning” of a psalm. Poetry—and the psalms are among the most sublime poetry in the world—can never have a single meaning. Like all greatwriting, the psalms are inexhaustible wells of meaning arising out of the ongoing inner conversation between the text and the reader or singer. My purpose in these short reflections is to attempt to convey succinctly a particular spiritual insight, or insights, that I discern in the psalm, to point to particular phrases or images that I think will engage spiritual reflection, and, if the reader so desires, to offer material for homiletical preparation.
At the end of each reflection, thanks to the generous help of my publisher Robert Maclennan, there are suggestions that may make these pages useful for personal reflection, group discussion, and prayer.
It has been said that there are two great elements in literature that have succeeded in expressing every aspect of human experience and the human condition: the plays of Shakespeare and—to use their familiar biblical title—the Psalms of David. To the extent that this statement is true, it gives great pause to anyone who assumes to comment on either! These reflections are offered in full acknowledgement of this daunting reality.
The Lord knows the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked is doomed.
The world of the psalms is one where, most of the time, the modern Western mind can feel at home. All the things of human experience exist somewhere in the psalms. Joy, sadness, fear, anger, terror, depression, hopelessness, trust—all are here. But there are moments when we can be brought up sharply, as we realize that some things in this world of the psalms are not altogether to our liking.
“Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked … The wicked … are like chaff which the wind blows away … The Lord knows the way of the righteous.” We are immediately in a black and white world. Between the wicked and the righteous there are no gradations. We are either with one or the other.
We find this troubling. We have become loathe to label people with such ease. Defining what is wicked or righteous is more complex for us. We ask to know more. We wish to probe the motivation behind the act, to see its total context, framed by what we know of the person. We may acknowledge a particular action to be wicked but still refuse to apply that label to the person. We see life in shades of grey. The psalms challenge this. “The wicked shall not stand upright when judgement comes.”
The gift of this psalm is precisely in its challenge to us. It forces us to dialogue with it. We are a generation affected deeply by the many psychologies of our time, nervous about making what we currently call value judgements. But the end of a terrible century is reminding us of the reality of evil and wickedness, whether personal or corporate.
We are becoming aware that decisions and actions are cumulative, leading us gradually toward what the psalm calls wickedness or righteousness. Repetition will eventually shape us. The psalmist seems to recognize the reality of this process in such phrases as “walked in the counsel of the wicked” or “lingered in the way of sinners.”
This psalm probes most deeply into our modern consciousness in the three words “when judgement comes.” For the psalmist this is a matter not of “if” but of “when.” Already the psalms have jolted us into paying attention.
Recall an action that you could label “bad.” What false “good” could the perpetrator(s) have imagined resulting? What genuine good could you imagine resulting, perhaps indirectly? Ask God to inspire all people to seek the will of God in all things.
Now, you kings, be wise;
be warned, you rulers of the earth.
This is very much a song of its own particular age and society. It is full of self-confidence and a sense of unquestioned self-superiority. We are in the presence of a ruler sitting on his throne. Reports have been brought to him telling of restlessness among those whom he and his country have conquered. These oppressed people see a chance to break free.
“How perfectly ridiculous,” our ruler seems to say. “Don’t they realize that God is on my side?” “The Lord has them in derision … He speaks to them in his wrath … I myself have set my king upon my holy hill in Zion.” The sense of superiority goes further as our ruler professes to hear God say, “I will give you the nations for your inheritance, and the ends of the earth for your possession.”
How are we to incorporate this psalm into contemporary society and worship? We are certainly not prepared to affirm the arrogant claims it makes. In this century we have sent armies into battle against such claims. Can we find a warning here?
Perhaps any society that has achieved a measure of empire fails to see when its own policies and actions, begun and carried out with the best of intentions, change into oppression; when certain people are regarded as enemies and subversives if they ask for nothing more than their freedom, whether in political or economic terms.
If we are prepared to sing this psalm in these terms and with this application, then it speaks to us clearly and directly in its last verses. “Be wise, be warned, you rulers of the earth. Submit to the Lord.” These words are addressed to all who hold power of any kind. And they are being warned not to make the mistake of seeing themselves as the repository of power.
All seeming authority and power derive from the ultimate source of authority and power—whom the psalmist names “the Lord.” In this way the psalm can be ours to sing, and its warning ours to heed.
Recall a time when you may have been oppressed by power and authority. Consider someone you know who is oppressed by power and authority. Ask God to show them a way through their suffering and to soften the hearts of their oppressors.
You, O Lord, are a shield about me;
you are my glory, the one who lifts up my head.
There is no gradual introduction, no soothing reassurance before we are exposed to the first piercing cry. “Lord, how many adversaries I have!” Suddenly we are in the company of someone who is coming apart in front of us. The terrifying realization has just hit home that there are enemies everywhere, far too many to be dealt with. We hear of “multitudes of people who set themselves against me all around.”
As we listen, we realize that this person is on the verge of paranoia. “How many there are who say of me, ‘there is no help for him in his God.’” There are voices whispering, sniggering,