Psalm 66 · NIVAC

Original Meaning

The Heading (66:0)

AS NOTED PREVIOUSLY, this psalm stands out from its immediate context by being the first one since Psalm 50 not to be attributed to David. There are no new terms offered in the heading, but the psalm is referred to “the director of music” and is labeled both “a song” (šir) and a “psalm” (mizmor).1 The latter two designations are the most general genre designations in the Psalter and would deserve no further comment except that in this particular context, they serve to bind the two non-Davidic Psalms 66 and 67 more firmly into the broader context of Psalms 56–68. Psalms 62–64 have each been designated mizmor ledawid (“psalm of David”), while Psalms 69 and 70–71 avoid the terms mizmor or šir altogether. In Psalms 65–68, however, the two genre terms mizmor and šir appear in all four headings.

Bridging Contexts

THE RELATIONSHIP OF Psalms 65–68 could use more explanation. The exposition of the individual psalms in the group has revealed a constellation of related themes that bind them together. A few of these themes are: (1) a focus on “all the earth” and “all the peoples of the earth” (66:1, 3, 8; 65:2, 5, 8; 67:2–5, 7); (2) the growing crescendo of praise to God (66:1–2, 4, 8, 20; 65:1, 8, 13; 67:3–5); (3) the universal fear of God (66:16; 65:8; 67:7); and (4) the salvation of the nations (65:2–3, 5; 66:4; 67:2). In light of this unusual group of related themes, the previously mentioned manipulation of genre terms in the psalm headings of Psalms 65–68 would seem to have more than casual significance. This is further confirmed by the fact that these four psalms represent an unusual group of praise psalms that stand out rather drastically from their immediate context, where pleas for deliverance dominate.10

Another less than usual feature of Psalm 66 finds explanation against the background of the combined effect of this group of psalms. The psalm begins with a segment of communal praise expressed in the second-person plural (66:1–12) and then rather abruptly shifts to an individual testimony in the first-person singular (66:13–20). While these two sections may originally have functioned separately,11 their combination here is particularly apt in light of the continuing development in this group of psalms.

As the psalm now stands, it serves to mediate between the description of divine blessing in 65:9–13 and the communal benediction in 67:1–7. In this context, 65:1–12 sounds a call to testimony and joyous celebration of the divine blessing that so drenches the earth that the valleys and meadows “shout for joy and sing” (65:13). Then in 66:1–12, creature and creation join to praise the great power of God (66:3) that defeats his enemies and brings his people “to a place of abundance,” like that just described in the whole of Psalm 65. A similar reflection takes place in 67:6: “Then the land will yield its harvest, and God, our God, will bless us.”

At this point (66:13), the individual voice breaks through to offer particular and specific testimony to the general praise of the cosmos. The testimony is directed to “all you who fear God” (66:16a), a possible reflection back to the “those living far away” who “fear your wonders” and respond with “songs of joy” (65:8). This larger invocation prepares the way for the more universal perspective expressed in Psalms 67 and 68, where the hope is that “the people [will] praise you, O God; may all the peoples praise you” (67:3, 5). I will return to this thematic development in the Bridging Contexts sections of the next two psalms.

Contemporary Significance

GLORIFYING GOD’S NAME. According to the response to the first question of the Shorter Westminster Catechism, the chief end of man is “to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.” Psalm 66 takes almost the same position when it calls “all the earth” to “sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious!” (66:2). While I might wish to interpret the Catechism’s rather abbreviated exhortation to “glorify God” to make sure that the implications of service to fellow humans and the rest of the creation were brought out firmly, I do think this statement captures in its essence the nature of human responsibility in this life and on this earth. We are in our deeds, words, thoughts, and relationships to “glorify God”—in other words, to make his glory known to the cosmos. That is what being in the image and likeness of God (Gen. 1:26) is all about: being the place where the divine likeness is communicated to his creation.12

Thus, how do we “glorify” God’s name? While the answer provided in Psalm 66 may not be a complete one, focused as it is on testimony and praise, it certainly provides a true beginning. Here are several suggestions, drawn from the text of Psalm 66.

(1) Awesome deeds. One of the first ways to glorify God is to say both to and of God: “How awesome are your deeds” (66:3). This testimony is not just praise to God, but it also becomes witness to others in 66:5: “Come and see what God has done, how awesome his works in man’s behalf.” The verses that follow describe the delivering power of God unleashed in the lives of the Exodus Israelites and the continuing sovereignty of God in spite of rebellious humans.

(2) Suffering and abundance. God’s power is expressed and his presence is real in our experience of both suffering and abundance. Often critics of the Christian faith and of God point to the continuation of radical suffering in the world as a reason to reject the idea of a sovereign God of love. How can a loving God allow the kind of pain and suffering we all see displayed constantly in the evening news? Our testimony to the “awesome deeds of God” stands in the face of this contrary evidence of human suffering.

The kind of testimony we give is not a sort of rational explanation or proof—although those may sometimes be called for and effective. What we testify to is our own experience of God alive and working in our lives in the midst of our pain and the graphic evidence of world evil and human suffering.

In the recent movie Life Is Beautiful, an Italian Jewish father and his small son are transported to a concentration camp during World War II. The father expends massive amounts of energy to shield his son from the desperate reality of their situation. Claiming they are part of a national contest offering as grand prize one’s very own military tank, the father mugs, prances, cajoles, and mostly lies to keep the truth from his son. He largely succeeds, and at the end marches off to his death prancing comically before the eyes of his hidden son, carrying out the ruse to the bitter end.

The son was shielded from the truth for a while, but the most powerful message of the film comes in the voice-over narration where the grown son recounts the story of his father’s selfless acts against the sure knowledge of the truth. It is here, when the truth is fully known and measured against the father’s acts, that the true power is unleashed in the understanding that right and good continue to exist—in fact, refuse to bow to the grossest inhumanities that humans perpetrate against one another.

We sometimes think that God’s power can only be displayed when we live charmed, painless lives of abundant goodness. Such a perspective inhibits us from talking honestly and openly about the failures, struggles, hurts, and attacks that characterize our lives. But this is not the path the psalmists take—or most of the biblical witnesses, for that matter. Abraham and Moses, Paul and Peter—all are strongly aware that it is in their weakness that the power of God is made known. Paul says it openly in 2 Corinthians 12:7–10:

To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.13

Our tendency to stress the “trouble-free” Christian life can have the unfortunate effect of alienating those whose experience of the world and life is far from trouble-free. On the one hand, our professed view is considered naive, uninformed, or outright deceptive and is discounted for any or all of these reasons. On the other hand, those who are in the midst of suffering may feel themselves excluded from the purpose and care of God.

But our psalm (and the rest of the Bible, I submit) acknowledges human struggle and suffering as real, but they are no barrier to the experience of the power and love of God. “We went through fire and water,” the psalmist says, “but you brought us to a place of abundance” (66:12). Like the grown son in Life Is Beautiful, true abundance is measured against the reality of suffering and want.

(3) Prayer not rejected, love not withheld. Finally, our testimony is to a relationship of communication with God in the midst of life. At the conclusion of this psalm, the psalmist calls the reader/listener to “come and listen . . . let me tell you what he has done for me” (66:16). In the testimony that follows this call, we discover one of the interesting aspects of this psalm. Although in many ways it approaches the lament form, nowhere do we find the articulation of a plea for deliverance. As near as we get is 66:17a: “I cried out to him with my mouth.” But even here, the latent plea is never consummated but is deflected into praise (66:17b). What the psalmist experiences rather than deliverance, however, is clearly stated and repeated: God has heard, listened, and accepted his prayer (66:18b–20). In the middle of the struggle of life we are assured of continued communication with God.

Besides communication with God—the assurance of being heard—we testify to our experience of communion with God. Not only does God not reject our prayer, but he has not “withheld his love from [us]” as well. The love God gives freely here is his ḥesed, his covenant loyalty and commitment that does not fail.

Original Meaning

Call to Universal Praise of God (66:1–15)

THIS FIRST MAJOR section is further subdivided into three segments, each marked by an imperative call to participation. The conclusion of each segment is marked with the enigmatic term selah.2 The segments are: a call to praise God (66:1–4), a call to witness God’s mighty deeds (66:5–7), and an extended call to praise, coupled with an individual vow (66:8–15). The first and third of these segments both contain an internal shift from a third-person reference to God to a second-person address of God. In this way communal praise also becomes testimony to the deeds for which praise is extended.

(1) Initial call to praise God (66:1–4). Shout with joy . . . all the earth! This first subdivision opens with a call to the universal praise of God by “all the earth” (66:1a). This phrase is one of the characteristic expressions in the extended group of Psalms 56–68. Here in 66:1 the mighty works of God exceed the boundaries of Israel and make themselves known to all the inhabitants of the earth, who are exhorted to shout as an army does in victory over its enemy. This is not simply a shout of joy but also one of triumph, which encourages the faithful while striking fear into the heart of the enemy.

Sing the glory of his name. Praising God is synonymous with glorifying his “name.” Again we run across the tension characteristic of this portion of the Elohistic Psalter—reference to the “name” of God when that name (clearly Yahweh) is systematically avoided (cf. 66:4c).3 Rather than vocal singing, the verb zmr (“sing”) most often describes making instrumental music either alone or as accompaniment to singing. “Glory” (kabod) is the very essence of a person—what makes you what you are. It is akin to honor and reputation; it is not just an invisible, internal quality but is bound up with how one is known and accepted in society at large. Here the whole earth is called to acknowledge openly the praiseworthy, honorable glory of Israel’s God.

How awesome are your deeds! The basis for this universal recognition of God’s glory is his mighty deeds, which leave no doubt about his authority and power. In the next section (66:5–7) we will be introduced in more detail to the kind of awesome deeds of God the psalmist has in mind. The verb kḥš (NIV “cringe”) is most often translated “feign submission” (cf. Deut. 33:29; 2 Sam. 22:45; Ps. 18:44). The enemies of God are so overwhelmed that they must at the very least put on a submissive face—even if their hearts rebel.

All the earth bows down to you. In contrast to the enemies of God, who are forced to act submissively, “all the earth” (cf. 66:1a) bows willingly and faithfully to worship him. The verb here is yištaḥawu—the unusual Hishtaphel form that is regularly employed to describe heartfelt human worship of God. There is no pretense here, no grudging submission by reason of defeat or default. Overwhelmed by the glory of God displayed by his deeds, the world falls to its collective knees in wonder and praise to his name (66:4a–c).

(2) Call to witness God’s mighty deeds (66:5–7). This second subsection describes the works of God “in man’s behalf” (66:5–7). What God has done has both a specific Israelite component and a more universal edge. The psalmist remembers God’s deliverance of Israel at the Red Sea: “He turned the sea into dry land, they passed through the waters on foot” (66:6a–b). This specific national event becomes the basis of his continued call to praise: “Come, let us rejoice in him” (66:6c).

This national celebration is coupled with a more universal recognition of the ruling power and authority of God that keeps the rebellious nations in check (66:7). Within the context of the opening call of “all the earth” to praise God, these last statements become more than Israel’s thanksgiving for divine protection. The whole world experiences the benefit of God’s effective control of the warring nations. The circumstance is somewhat akin to that in 65:5–7, where God is acknowledged as the “hope of all the ends of the earth” (65:5) because he “stilled . . . the turmoil of the nations.” God’s eternal rule (66:7a) and vigilance (66:7b) mean that he is always prepared to quell the rebellious storms of the restless nations (66:7c).

(3) Praise and vow (66:8–15). Preserved . . . and . . . tested. The third subsection begins, as did the first, with a universal call to praise God.4 Here those invoked are called “O peoples” (ʿammim), a plural reference that extends the call beyond the confines of Israel. In light of the immediately preceding allusion to the Exodus (66:6), what follows, although couched in more general terms, constitutes Israel’s personal testimony before the nations of God’s effective work in his relationship with her. Israel affirms that God “has preserved our lives and kept our feet from slipping”5 (66:9).

You . . . tested . . . refined us. Israel’s experience of God has been a learning one, characterized by divine testing and refinement. The Hebrew uses two terms to describe the kind of testing God makes: bḥn and ṣrp. Both have to do with the smelting of precious metals, such as gold and silver. In this process, the heat applied to the mixed ore melts the precious metal and separates it from the nonprecious carrier material. The precious metal is then revealed and proves itself. After the separation, the carrier material is discarded.

The imagery of smelting is frequently used in the Old Testament as a metaphor for divine testing and purification of the faithful.6 Through the “heat” of stress and suffering, the true nature of the faithful or the unbelieving was revealed. Additional trials could purify the believer of those areas of sin or lack of dependence on God that remained. The stresses experienced by the suffering faithful are described in a series of general metaphors: “prison . . . burdens on our backs . . . men [riding] over our heads . . . [going] through fire and water” (vv. 11–12).

Despite the fierce suffering, God’s intentions for his people were good from the beginning (cf. 66:9) and proved to be blessing at the end when the community of faith admitted that God “brought us to a place of abundance” (66:12c). It is possible that the distress described in these verses is intended to recall the imprisonment, slavery, and escape of the Exodus along with the entry into the land of abundant “milk and honey.” Far from being specific, however, the metaphors allow renewed and continued reinterpretation in the changing circumstances of the people and may later have been applied to the pains and hopes associated with the Diaspora.

I will come to your temple. This subsection closes with the form of a vow to offer sacrifice in the temple once deliverance has been experienced (66:13–15). The vow was spoken during a time of distress (66:14) as a way of affirming one’s confidence in God’s good intent and actualizing hope. The ultimate fulfillment of the vow in the communal worship of the temple also provided opportunity for public testimony of God’s faithfulness in the presence of fellow worshipers. Thus, the vow included both a sacrifice and an verbal offering of praise and thanksgiving (cf. 61:8; 65:1).7 While coming to the temple with one’s sacrifice was part of the experience of worship during the period of the monarchy, these words would have had special significance for the Diaspora community, for whom the approach to the Jerusalem temple was most often a rare fulfillment of a lifelong dream.

I will sacrifice fat animals . . . rams . . . bulls and goats. The offer of so many animals is probably hyperbole, indicating the psalmist’s extreme joy at being delivered. The psalmist’s thanksgiving pours out in the piling up of offering upon offering.8