In this episode, we come to the end of our examination of the Egyptian Hallel . We don’t know for certain who wrote Psalm 118 or why. But apparently, by the time of Jesus, it was understood as pointing forward to the coming Messiah. This is important to understanding why Jesus quoted the psalm to the Jerusalem leaders—and what he seems to have intended by doing so.
Most of us probably go to church in our own cars, by ourselves or with our families. We enter the sanctuary, perhaps greet some friends, and find a seat. But what if everyone gathered in one place, then went together in a procession into the sanctuary instead? The second part of Psalm 118 pictures something like this. The passage contains words that will be familiar to readers of the gospels, and we’ll examine those more closely in the next episode.
We don’t know who wrote Psalm 118, but parts of it read as if written by a king. There is language reminiscent of battles between nations; there is language reminiscent of David. But whoever wrote the psalm, the message is clear: God is the one to trust in the midst of trouble, for he is the place of refuge for the faithful.
On the one hand, Psalm 118 is a personal prayer of gratitude. On the other hand, it is also a summons to God’s people to join in praise and thanksgiving; the psalm contains what seem to be liturgical elements. In a manner reminiscent of Psalm 115, the psalmist calls first all Israel, then the house of Aaron, then those who fear the LORD to praise him for his everlasting love. And as we’ll explore here, it may be that the psalmist means for that praise to be embodied.
In the days just before his crucifixion, Jesus was publicly debating the Pharisees in the temple courts. He asked them if they had read the verse about the stone which was rejected and then became the cornerstone. Of course they had: it was from Psalm 118, and everyone was in Jerusalem for the Passover, at which that psalm would be sung. Later, the apostles Peter and Paul would refer to Jesus as the cornerstone as well. What does this mean?
Psalm 119, which comes right after the Hallel , is the longest chapter in the Bible. Psalm 117, which comes just before the final psalm in the Hallel , is the shortest, at just two verses long. It’s not surprising that the psalmist praises God for his love and faithfulness to his people. What is a little surprising, however, is that the psalmist also calls other nations to praise him as well.
How many psalms begin with a personal declaration of love for God? Just one: Psalm 116. The psalmist was in dire distress, cried out for mercy, and was rescued by God. The psalmist therefore pours out words of gratitude—and apparently, intends to go to Jerusalem to pour out a drink offering before God as well. The psalm ends with a call to God’s people to join the psalmist in praise.
As I’ve suggested, Jesus would probably have sung all or part of the Hallel with his disciples at the Last Supper. The link between the Passover and the Hallel may be because of Psalm 116, which explicitly refers to “the cup of salvation,” probably a drink offering. The psalm itself speaks of the psalmist’s own deliverance from death and the grave. How might the disciples have heard the psalm differently when they celebrated the Passover after Jesus’ death and resurrection?...
In earlier episodes, we’ve explored creation psalms the celebrate the sovereignty and majesty of God. By contrast, Psalm 115 declares the “gods” of other nations to be no gods at all. The one who made heaven and earth blesses his people. It is their vocation to trust and praise him.
The writer of Psalm 115 insists that it’s useless to worship and put your trust in mere idols, which are completely impotent. By contrast, in what reads like a liturgy, the psalmist insists that all God’s people can and should put their trust in God. He alone is their refuge and the one whom the people should glorify and fear.
In Psalm 115, the nations have questioned Israel’s God. The psalmist responds by saying not only that God is the one who rules from heaven, but that the gods of other nations are merely idols, made by human hands. In stark contrast to God, they can do nothing. But even more than this: the psalmist warns that those who worship idols will become like what they worship.
In the Old Testament, a war or other conflict between nations was war between their gods. The second verse of Psalm 115 sets forth the question with which the psalm as a whole wrestles: “Why do the nations say, ‘Where is their God?’” Whether the question was asked in mockery or not, it implies that the God of Israel is insignificant. The psalmist’s response, however, is not belligerent. It begins by humbly reminding God’s people of who God is and how the glory belongs only to him.
The Hallel is sometimes known as the Egyptian Hallel because of Psalm 114, a short psalm which begins with a reference to the exodus from Egypt. The verses that follow briefly refer to the history that followed, including the conquest of Canaan. But the story is told in a way that draws attention to the power of God, reminding us that we are first at God’s mercy before we are recipients of it.
Psalm 113 comes to us in three parts. In the first, we’re directed to praise God forever and everywhere. In the second, we’re told to praise God for who he is. But at the end of the second part and continuing into the third, we’re also told to praise God for what he has done. Here, we’ll focus on the third part, where the psalmist quotes a song from the past and thereby honors the woman who sang it.
The gospel of Matthew tells us that when Jesus and his disciples finished their Passover meal in the Upper Room, they sang a hymn before leaving for the Mount of Olives. After what Jesus had told them, was anyone in the mood for singing? And what would they have sung? Probably Psalms 113 to 118, which are collectively known as The Egyptian Hallel . Here, we’ll begin our exploration of the Hallel with Psalm 113.
If you’ve ever been unjustly accused, you may understand the sentiment of Psalm 109. But given the teaching of Jesus, and even of Paul, is it ever appropriate for a Christian to pray this way? The psalmist’s enemies deserved to be punished—but because of Jesus, Christians have a new way of understanding God’s justice. How might the psalmist have taken this?
As an example of an imprecatory psalm, Psalm 109 shows the depth to which the psalmists will sometimes go to call for God’s justice and curse their enemies. Read another way, however, it is also a cautionary tale about the psalmist’s enemies. They have not only cursed the psalmist, but have made cursing a way of life—and it has corrupted their character to the core.
In Psalm 109, the psalmist has been the victim of injustice. One or more people have brought charges against the psalmist, and are willing to tell any lie to get a conviction. In response, the psalmist prays for vengeance and divine retaliation, not only against the psalmist’s enemies, but their families and future descendants. What is one to do with such a psalm? Here, we’ll compare it to Psalm 37, which we explored in previous episodes.
When we sing words from the Psalms in church, we typically sing praise songs, not laments. And we do not sing songs of cursing, known as imprecatory psalms. But much of Psalm 109, a psalm that was apparently meant to be sung, is a prayer for the complete destruction of the psalmist’s enemy. In this episode, we’ll cautiously examine the psalmist’s lament.
Homelessness is not just a modern problem; some form of it has probably existed throughout history. The first of the four stories of redemption in Psalm 107 seems to describe such a situation. Those who are hungry, thirsting, and wandering without a home are rescued from their distress by God and blessed. The imagery is reminiscent of the teaching of Jesus…
In the previous episode, we explored the fourth of Psalm 107’s four stories. Here, we look at the second and third, which share something unusual in common. One is a graphic story about people crying out to God from prison; the other is about people crying out in the midst of life-threatening illness. But all the people are described as justly deserving their suffering. And yet, when they turn and call upon God, he answers with grace and mercy.
Psalm 107 presents four stories of redemption. We’ll begin with the fourth, which takes place at sea. Sailors on a merchant vessel are caught in a terrible storm, and fearing for their lives, they cry out to God and are rescued. But as in so many psalms, the people are called not merely to praise God for what he has done, but for who he is: a God of unfailing love.
The Psalter is divided into five books. Psalm 106 is the last psalm of Book IV. Psalm 107 then sets the tone for Book V by repeating the opening words of Psalm 106: “Give thanks to the LORD for he is good; his love endures forever.” God is to be praised as the Redeemer, and the psalm presents four paradigmatic stories in which God redeemed people from trouble. Whatever tale our own stories may tell, can we imagine ourselves as part of the story of The God Who Redeems?
God’s history of faithfulness to his people demands their faithful response in return. But Psalm 106 recalls episode after episode of sin and rebellion, culminating in the people being conquered by Assyria and Bablyon and taken away into captivity. But that is not the end of the story. The psalmist still believes in and prays for God’s mercy, and in hope, the psalm ends on a note of praise.
Try to imagine the enormity of the miracle God did through Moses at the Red Sea. Could anyone experience that and not believe in God, in God’s power and compassion? After that, could any of God’s people forget what they owed to God? If we only read Psalm 105, we’d think the answer would be no. But Psalm 106 recalls the events of Exodus 16 and 17, and how quickly the people forgot God’s mercy.
If our life story was to be told in front of others, would we want the whole truth to be told? Probably not. But the psalmists knew that the story of God’s faithfulness would not be complete without the story of the human response on the other side of the covenant relationship. Though Psalm 106 begins and ends with a “Hallelujah,” it is an honest confession of the people’s faithless sin. The psalm may have been written during or after the Babylonian exile, when the people’s failure could not be ...
You’ve heard some of the reasons to read Psalms 105 and 106 together; now it’s time to examine each psalm more closely, beginning with Psalm 105. It begins with David’s song of celebration at the return of the ark, then runs quickly through centuries of history: Joseph’s rise to power in Egypt; Moses and the Exodus; God’s faithfulness to the people in the wilderness. The whole psalm is a celebration of God’s faithfulness. We’ll have to wait for Psalm 106 for the story of the people’s faithlessne...
When King David brought the ark of the covenant to Jerusalem, he had a song written for the occasion. As mentioned in the previous episode, the song—which can be found in 1 Chronicles 16—gives form and content to Psalms 105 and 106. Psalm 105, again, is celebratory. But in Psalm 106, the psalmist reminds the people of the danger of mistaking superstition for true worship.
We’ve explored Psalms 103 and 104; now we’ll dive into Psalms 105 and 106, which should be read back to back (and after, we’ll look at Psalm 107 as well). Psalms 105 and 106 are both examples of so-called historical psalms, whose purpose is to retell some of the history of God’s relationship to his people. The two psalms are like two sides of a coin, first recounting the history in a positive way, then coming back and humbly adding the negative.
Jesus taught his disciples to pray to God as their Father. The author of Psalm 103 also portrays God as our Father. But the psalmist says that God has compassion for us because he “remembers that we are dust.” That may sound shaming, as if the psalmist were saying that God is everything and we are therefore nothing. But is that what the psalmist means?
