But it clashes with the marketing, materialistic, militaristic world in which, most of the time, we have our being. Biblical poets use human speech metaphorically to portray a world in which God is related covenantly to a people, Israel, and through them to all peoples. It is a world in which our relation to God, whether in times of divine presence or apparent absence, is expressed creatively in this language of great power.9
The language of the Psalter does not contain abstract theological statements or anything approaching philosophical theology. What it does contain is some of the most erudite theological thinking and richness to emerge out of its deep sense of the knowledge of יהוה. This knowledge of God is rooted in relationship and the entire edifice is supported by the fact of the covenant. It elicits responses in prayer, praise and, frequently, laments or complaints which reflect the existential life situations of this people who have become, by the election of יהוה, the people of God. Israel’s knowledge of יהוה is both a burden and a blessing. It defines the parameters of her long and historic relationship with and witnesses to the varied implications and meaning of that relationship.
No other literature in the Bible approaches the levels of intensity, pathos and promise as we find in the book of the Psalms. It tells us how life is to be lived this side of glory. It informs our spiritual formation, growth and maturity in faith. It teaches us life! G. W. Anderson enriches our introduction:
The Psalter is the supremely representative theological document of the Old Testament . . . and this book is, in its entirety, explicitly or by implication, confession. Its unity is not the formal unity of a carefully articulated statement, but the organic unity which is given to it by a worshiping community. Although it spans a considerable period in the life of that community, it does not present with any clarity the successive phases in the historical development of its religion, but gathers together those themes which were dominant throughout the development. It expresses them, not in some rarefied, quintessential abstraction of the faith of Israel, but in the prayers and praises in which, generation after generation, Israel confessed Yahweh, and in confessing [Him] encountered [Him].10
Some of the psalms have recognizable forms which help us to better understand the burden of their message and how we relate to them. Many of the individual psalms are heartfelt complaints which end in a reaffirmation of vows of trust. Some are songs of pilgrims approaching the temple; some concern the bellicose utterances of warfare; some are hymns to creation; some are prayers of repentance; some are songs addressed to the king and others perhaps composed by the king. Not infrequently, the psalms seem disjointed to our literary sensibilities. To a very large extent this problem disappears when we view them as litanies of spontaneous prayer in which a limited number of themes are constantly repeated. What I am referring to here is a sense of the reader of the Psalter engaging a text that does not always seem inviting to modern ears. But once we have come to appreciate these select themes, it is not difficult to see how together they make up a coherent confession of faith.
This is confirmed by a small but invaluable publication by Jean-Pierre Prevost, in which he explains the significance of some forty key words that constitute the essential prayer vocabulary of the Psalter. “Throughout the entirety of the psalms there is a great deal of repetition. The prayer vocabulary . . . is not extensive; the same words are used over and over again . . . They are the essence of the prayer, which lies in the relationship they presuppose and are there to deepen.” 11
To enter the world of these psalms we must first appreciate the cultural milieu in which Israel’s relationship with יהוה found expression. It is a world that is far removed from our experience. Its ideals are not abstractions, but rather reflect the realities of a “concrete immediacy.” The conflict, bloodshed and oppression frequently referred to are not the products of metaphorical imagination, but the stuff of everyday experience. The Psalter is vibrant and alive because it is rooted in human and historical experiences of life.
The rock, for instance, is often spoken of—“I love you, יהוה. . . my strength. יהוה is my crag, my fortress, my champion, my God, my rock, in whom I find shelter, my shield and sure defender, my strong tower” (Ps 18:1, 2 , REB). It is not a monument or a scenic tourist attraction but rather a riveting metaphor for Israel’s personal God, the Rock. Note that the term rock occurs within a parade of metaphors that speak of refuge and strength, defense and shelter. These are recurring themes, all of which we will encounter over and over again in the pages just ahead.
The themes which the poet of Psalm 18 repeats make up the coherent confession of the faith of old Israel. The significance of this confession is not in its theological subtlety or inventiveness but in the daring with which it affirms the reality and practical implications of Israel’s relationship with יהוה. This relationship is trusting, personal, and intimate. Such is the passionate trust that is characterized by the poets, again and again throughout the Psalter, in their efforts to articulate clearly what it means to be in love with יהוה who is their Deliverer, their Salvation, their Refuge, their Redeemer!12
The following section addresses fifteen broad contours that are reflected throughout the Psalter. The citing of these verses which are taken from many psalms provides a scriptural context for the remainder of this book. In order to immediately saturate the reader in the Psalms, and to enable the reader to read and hear them as sacred scripture, the reader is encouraged to patiently and quietly read the following section–uninterrupted if possible.
1. With the exception of the scriptural quotations and direct quotes from the works of others, I will be using the Hebrew script יהוה [Yahweh or YHWH) for the English, “LORD.” The Hebrew language reads from right to left. An exact transliteration of the four consonants, or Tetragrammaton would be “HWHY.” The pronunciation is only approximate. In ancient times, most scholars agree that it sounded something like Yah-way or, Yah-vay.
2. The term cult (Ger. kultus) as used here is an academic one. It refers to the “Sitz im Leben” or the real–life situation of a people–their corporate worshiping life, their rites and ceremonies and liturgical re-enactments as a faith community in the worship of their particular God. The “cultic life” of a people changes over time as that community wrestles with the practice of their belief system in new life situations. The use of the term cult here is to be distinguished from the more contemporary notion of cult that is usually understood negatively to connote the activities and secretive life of modern day separatist groups which are usually formed around a fanatical obeisance to a central autocratic personality. Modern examples abound.
3. cf. Muilenberg, The Way of Israel.
4. I will be using the terms “Hebrew Bible,” or “Hebrew Scriptures,” or, the “First Testament” rather than the Christian term, “Old Testament.” Some biblical scholars prefer the term, “Tanakh” (an acronym of the triadic parts of the Hebrew Bible: the Torah or Law or, Pentateuch; Nevi’im, or, Prophets; and the Ketuvim” or, The Writings; i.e. TaNaKh). Instead of using the term, “New Testament” I will make reference to the “Christian Scriptures,” or, the “Second Testament.” Such are my efforts to be respectful of both traditions although I am writing, of course, as a Christian.
5. Note: The word “psalm” is capitalized when referring to the book of Psalms or when it is followed by a number (e.g. Psalm 91); it is lower case in all other uses. The word “Psalter” is usually capitalized.
cf.