Introduction

The Shape of the Psalter

ATTENTION TO THE SHAPE AND SHAPING of the Psalter is a fairly recent development in the study of the book of Psalms. For much of the twentieth century, the methodological approaches formulated by Hermann Gunkel and Sigmund Mowinckel dominated the analysis of psalms.³ The work of these scholars cast a long and formative shadow across the discipline.⁴ Gunkel identified various genres or “forms” of psalms found in the Psalter, along with the features that are characteristic of each form (e.g., lament, thanksgiving, praise). Gunkel suggested that these forms, and their common literary features, had a particular Sitz im Leben, a particular “setting in life.” In asserting this, however, he did not claim that he could establish the precise historical context that prompted the writing of each psalm (as earlier scholarship had attempted to do), but instead that each form of psalm (e.g., lament) likely emerged from a common context that can be generally established. For example, a lament psalm was likely written when a psalmist or group of worshipers was in need of deliverance from an enemy, illness, oppression, or even individual and communal sin.

Mowinckel, a student of Gunkel, pressed the insights of his teacher further by arguing that each psalm was used in temple worship and that appropriate interpretation necessitated the analysis of individual psalms to determine their “cultic function.” This view naturally led to Mowinckel’s conclusion concerning the very purpose of the Psalter: “the Psalter was transmitted as the songbook of the second temple, and was unquestionably used as such.”⁵ As a result of form-critical analysis, the emphasis remained on the study of individual psalms. Any discussion of the Psalter as a whole, much less its shape, was purely secondary.

In 1979 Brevard Childs released his Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture and, in many ways, opened new avenues for the examination of Scripture writ large, including the Psalter.⁶ Childs argued that the “final form” of biblical books should be of primary consideration. Integral to his new proposal was the belief that the final form of these texts had been intentionally shaped by later editors or redactors. Attention to the “shape” of the biblical book, Childs argued, could yield insights that are central to the interpretive task of individual texts and of the book as a whole. For example, in his Introduction Childs posed the simple but insightful question: “Why is Psalm 1 the first psalm in the Psalter?”⁷ In making such a query, Childs makes two assumptions: first, that Psalm 1 was placed in its current location intentionally, and second, that its placement has interpretive implications for understanding the Psalter as a whole.

The work started by Childs on the shape of the Psalter was more fully explored in the work of his student, Gerald H. Wilson, in his groundbreaking study The Editing of the Hebrew Psalter.⁸ Wilson explored collections of Sumerian hymns and identified indicators of editorial activity within those collections. Wilson observed that some collections included the name of the scribe who had gathered the collection, while other collections included a similar first line (an “incipit”), which likely explained their organizational structure. Other Sumerian collections appear to share a common theme, and that commonality bound the collection together. When Wilson turned to the book of Psalms, he noted evidence of “major editorially significant structures in the arrangement of the canonical Hebrew Psalter.”⁹ Some of these indicators had been noted previously (i.e., the five-book structure of the Psalter), but they took on new and added meaning in the light of the shift in psalms study. In the pages that follow, a brief review of the indicators of structure in the Psalter will appear, followed by a summary of Books 1–5 in the Psalter.

Preliminary Observations Concerning the Shape of the Psalter

COLLECTIONS. Although the Psalter is often considered a collection of 150 separate psalms, closer inspection, especially of the headings or superscriptions, suggests otherwise. Embedded within the larger Psalter are a number of smaller collections that appear to be grouped in various ways.

The presence of personal names in the superscription appears to be the feature that unites some collections:¹⁰

In the NIVAC Psalms, Volume 1, Wilson considers the meaning of personal names in the superscripts. Traditionally these names have been associated with authorship, but as Wilson rightly notes, the issue remains a matter of considerable debate. The Hebrew preposition le is attached to each personal name, but because the preposition can mean “of,” “by,” “for,” “to,” “concerning,” or “about,” the precise meaning of the designation remains unsettled. Rather than making a claim of authorship, these designations (i.e., leDavid) may well refer to a style of composition, or it may refer to whom the psalm is dedicated, or even who might be responsible for reading the psalm in temple worship (i.e., Korahites).¹¹ In the present line of discussion, the primary point is not to debate the question of authorship but instead simply to acknowledge the presence of collections in the Psalter based upon common name designations in the superscriptions.

Other collections appear throughout the Psalter but are grouped thematically. For example, Psalms 93 and 95–99 appear together in Book 4 of the Psalter (see below) and comprise a collection of “Enthronement Psalms,” as is evident by their common reference to Yahweh as the Divine King. Psalms 42–83 comprise a collection termed the “Elohistic Psalter.” In this collection of psalms, the name ’elohim (“God”) is preferred over Yahweh (“the LORD”) throughout the collection, even though Yahweh is the preferred designation throughout the remainder of the Psalter. Whether these psalms originally included the name ’elohim or the name Yahweh was replaced with ’elohim remains a matter of debate. Either way, these psalms function as a collection within the final form of the Psalter.¹² A third collection can be found in Psalms 120–34, a collection united by the common designation in their superscription, “A Song of Ascents.” Prior to their present location in the Hebrew Psalter, these psalms may have existed separately as a small collection used by pilgrims as they made their way to Jerusalem for festivals. Two other collections appear to be grouped by their opening line, “Hallelujah” (Pss 111–18; 146–50). Similar to the incipits identified by Wilson in the Sumerian hymns, these opening calls to “praise the LORD” serve to bind these psalms together. Whether these opening incipits were original to the psalm or added in the process of collection by the editor remains a matter of some debate. Either way, the incipits suggest that these psalms are meant to be understood as a collection. While generations of scholars have recognized the presence of collections within the Psalter, their role within the editorial shaping of the Psalter and its “final form” has become a matter of inquiry only within the last three decades.

Five-book Structure. At some point, perhaps late in its compositional history, the Hebrew Psalter was divided into five “books”: Psalms 1–41; 42–72; 73–89; 90–106; and 107–50. Evidence for this five-book structure in the Hebrew Psalter can be found at the conclusion of each of the first four books. Following the last psalm in each book, the editors inserted a doxology.

Praise be to the LORD, the God of Israel,

from everlasting to everlasting,

Amen and Amen. (Ps 41:13)

Praise be to the LORD God, the God of Israel,

who alone does marvelous deeds.

Praise be to his glorious name forever;

may the whole earth be filled with his glory.

Amen and Amen. (Ps 72:18–19)

Praise be to the LORD forever!

Amen and Amen. (Ps 89:52)

Praise be to the LORD, the God of Israel,

from everlasting to everlasting.

Let all the people say, “Amen!”

Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48)

That the word “amen” occurs in each of the four doxologies but nowhere else in the Psalter suggests editorial intentionality in shaping the conclusion to each book. Gerald Wilson observed additional markers in the first three books that indicate a shift from one book to the next. He notes that in the movement from Psalm 41 to 42, 72 to 73, and 89 to 90 there are shifts both in the genre of the psalm and the name mentioned in the superscription, thus once more suggesting the presence of editorial intentionality in the Psalter. The fifth book, comprised of Psalms 107–50, does not conclude with a similar doxology but instead is followed by a lengthy doxological conclusion to the Psalter (Pss 146–50) that calls on all people to praise God.

The recognition of a “five-book” arrangement to the Psalter is not a recent development in scholarship but extends far back in history. The Midrash Tehillim explains that, “As Moses gave five books of laws to Israel, so David gave five books of Psalms to Israel.”¹³ While the analogy between the Torah of Moses and the psalms of David provides an interesting explanation for the five-fold structure of the Psalter, contemporary scholarship has provided alternative explanations for its current structure (as suggested below).

The Editorial Purpose of the Psalter

TO SPEAK OF THE EDITORIAL PURPOSE of the Psalter does not suggest that there is a rationale for the location of each and every psalm within the Psalter, but it does suggest that selected psalms do appear at strategic locations and that, through careful analysis, those psalms might provide clues for understanding the Psalter as a whole.¹⁴ Like any good book, the Psalter has an introduction and a conclusion, along with intervening material. To determine the editorial purpose of the Psalter requires that one give careful attention to the psalms that appear at these strategic locations in the Psalter.

The Introduction: Psalms 1–2. Although they are two separate psalms, Psalms 1 and 2 function together to introduce two overarching themes for the Psalter. The opening psalm reflects the wisdom tradition and presents the reader with two fundamentally different options for life. Though the psalm opens with reference to the “happy” or “blessed” person, the identity of that individual is established based on a comparison with the “wicked,” “sinners,” and “mockers.” Unlike these people, the righteous individual delights in the “law of the LORD.” And unlike the wicked, whose path will perish (v. 6), the righteous who meditate on the law will prosper in their path and the Lord will watch over their way (vv. 3, 6). Thus Psalm 1 exhorts readers to a type of torah-piety rooted in the law of the Lord.

The second psalm likely reflects a coronation ceremony during the preexilic period, yet its position at the beginning of the Psalter raises questions as to its function in the corpus. The royal psalms (and particularly Ps 2) appear to have been reinterpreted by subsequent generations, especially following the exile.¹⁵ Although human kingship is mentioned in Psalm 2:6–9, the psalm builds to an acknowledgment of Yahweh as the ruler over the kings of all the earth (v. 10). Thus, as Childs has observed and others after him have confirmed, the location of Psalm 2 appears to emphasize “the kingship of God as a major theme of the whole Psalter.”¹⁶ So together Psalms 1 and 2 call the reader to heed the instruction of Yahweh and acknowledge that, despite circumstances which appear to the contrary, the LORD reigns.

Books 1–3: Psalms 2–89. In his analysis of the Psalter, Wilson observed two distinct “blocks” of psalms, Psalms 2–89 and Psalms 90–145.¹⁷ The superscriptions proved invaluable in discerning the organizational and compositional strategy for grouping together Psalms 2–89. Strikingly, in this portion of the Psalter, eighty-six of the eighty-eight psalms have a superscription, while of Psalms 90–145 less than half have some form of superscription.

In Books 1–3 the superscriptions are dominated by author designations and genre information (e.g., “a psalm,” “a maskil”), and all but one of the thirteen “historical” superscriptions connected with the life of David (e.g., Ps 51) can be found in this collection.¹⁸ In fact, David is mentioned in fifty-eight of the eighty-eight psalms, with two large Davidic collections dominating the first two books (Pss 3–41 and 51–72). David figures prominently in the organizational strategy of the first two books (Pss 2–72). In addition, Korahite and Asaphite collections are only found in this portion of the Psalter, thus reinforcing the importance of author designations as an organizational principle in Psalms 2–89.

In addition to the superscriptions, the lament genre plays a formative role in Psalms 2–89 by appearing with far more regularity than any other genre of psalm. Within Book 1, 24 of the 41 psalms are laments; in Book 2, 20 of the 31 psalms are laments; and in Book 3, 8 of 17 are laments. Nearly two-thirds of this initial collection (Pss 2–89), therefore, is comprised of laments. The dominance of lament contributes to the theological trajectory of the collection as a whole.

What proves most striking about Books 1–3, however, is the placement of royal psalms at the “seams” of the books. Psalm 2 opens the collection with a reference to Israel’s kingship as something divinely sanctioned. Psalm 72, the final psalm in Book 2, references Solomon in the superscription, thus suggesting that the divinely sanctioned office of king continues with Solomon.¹⁹ Strikingly, however, Book 3 contains a large number of communal laments, with two psalms in particular referencing the destruction of Jerusalem (Pss 74 and 79). These references suggest that the entirety of the collection was influenced by the events associated with the exile. Psalm 89 concludes Book 3 (and the larger collection of Pss 2–89) with a lament over what appears to be Yahweh’s apparent rejection of the Davidic covenant—or, as Wilson has summarized,

Psalm 2 describes the inauguration of the Davidic dynasty in words reminiscent of 1 Samuel 7:1–17. At the end of the combined prayers of David, Ps 72 (attributed ‘to/for’ Solomon) articulates the hope for successive Davidic monarchs to ‘endure forever . . . as long as the sun’ (72:17). This happy hope of eternal blessing comes crashing down at the end of the third book. There Ps 89, after beginning with the exalted expectations grounded in the inviolable word of God himself, turns swiftly to agonized confusion over the destruction of kingdom and monarch in exile.²⁰

With their temple destroyed (Pss 74; 79) and the throne of David tossed into the dirt (Ps 89:44), the people wonder how they will endure the insults and taunts of the enemy nations (89:50–51). How will Israel endure the humiliation of exile and, worse yet, the dismantling of the nation’s theological worldview? Israel’s response to these questions follows in Books 4 and 5.

Books 4–5: Psalms 90–145. As suggested above, Books 1–3 were grouped according to author and genre designations in the superscriptions, but in Pss 90–145 superscriptions occur far fewer times: only sixteen of these fifty-six psalms contain a superscription, thus suggesting that a different editorial technique was employed in assembling the latter third of the Psalter. Wilson argued that two words functioned as organizing principles in this section: halleluyah, “praise the LORD,” and, hodu, “give thanks.” That one of the two terms appears in nearly every psalm in Book 5 provides a strong hymn-like quality to the final third of the Psalter. In addition to the terms’ sheer repetition, Wilson noted that they assume a particular role in the organizational structure of the collection: halleluyah appears in psalms that conclude a section, and hodu signals the start of a new collection. For example, Psalms 104–106 end with halleluyah, followed by a new section that begins in Ps 107 with the presence of hodu in the opening line. Psalm 117 concludes with halleluyah and so suggests the close of that section, while Psalm 118 begins with hodu and so indicates the start of the next section. Similarly, Psalm 135 concludes the section with halleluyah, and the appearance of hodu in Psalm 136 signals the start of a new collection.

While Wilson’s observations concerning haleluyah and hodu are instructive, they do not explain in full the structure of Book 5.²¹ What complicates the structure of Books 4 and 5 further are the various collections that comprise the latter third of the Psalter. In addition to the Enthronement Psalms in Book 4 (Pss 93 and 95–99), there are several collections in Book 5, including the Psalms of Ascent, two David collections (Pss 108–10; 138–45), and the massive acrostic psalm, Psalm 119. The way in which these collections intersect with the organizing terms suggested by Wilson (halleluyah and hodu) has yielded a number of proposals but little agreement.²² Despite the challenges associated with assessing the editorial structure of Books 4 and 5, the two books do provide a theological response to the crisis of exile articulated in the first three books. The Psalter shifts from lament (Books 1–3) to praise and thanksgiving (Books 4–5).

Following the lament in Psalm 89, Book 4 opens with a psalm of Moses, the only psalm in the Psalter that includes Moses in the superscription. Some have referred to Book 4 as a “Moses book” because of the considerable attention given to Moses, as well as the exodus and wilderness traditions.²³ The mention of Moses returns the reader to a time in Israel’s history when the nation was led by only one king, Yahweh. This theme is reinforced with the appearance of the Enthronement Psalms in the middle of this collection. Of the seventeen psalms in this collection, six are Enthronement Psalms (Pss 93; 95–99) celebrating the kingship of Yahweh. (On the implications of this collection, see below.) The final two psalms in Book 4 (Pss 105–6) provide a recitation of Israel’s history with a decidedly theological assessment of the covenantal relationship between Yahweh and Israel. Psalm 105 celebrates Israel’s deliverance out of Egypt by focusing entirely on God’s faithfulness to his people and the covenant that binds them together. Like Psalm 105, Psalm 106 provides a historical recital, but this recitation moves in a markedly different direction. The psalmist recounts key episodes in Israel’s historical narrative, beginning with Israel’s deliverance out of Egypt and culminating with their arrival in the land, yet the psalmist does more than simply track Israel’s travel. Book 4 closes by giving considerable attention to the obstinate and rebellious spirit of God’s people as they made their way to the promised land. God had been faithful (Ps 105), his people had not (Ps 106).

Although Book 3 closes with a lament over the fallen Davidic monarchy, Book 4 offers a daring word of hope declaring that Yahweh remains Israel’s true king, thus ensuring that hope remains. The historical recitals at the end of Book 4 provide both a word of instruction and a word of caution. Israel is reminded of God’s utter faithfulness to his people (Ps 105) and at the same time that their history is one of rebellion and waywardness (Ps 106). Israel’s hope rests with the Divine King, who remains faithful; in turn, they must resist the ways of their ancestors and choose to respond to the Divine King in faithfulness.

Following the recounting of Israel’s faithlessness in Psalm 106, the psalm closes with a petition for Yahweh to gather his dispersed people from among the nations—a request that ties Psalm 106 with the first psalm in the fifth book of the Psalter (Pss 107–50). Psalm 107 opens by referencing “those he redeemed from the hand of the foe” and those he “gathered from the lands” (vv. 2–3). The psalmist calls on this “gathered people” to celebrate the steadfast love (hesed) of God. Such an opening statement might lead one to believe that the crisis is over and the world has been fully righted because of the steadfast love of the Divine King. Yet Psalm 107 portends a more ominous claim. In a wisdom admonition, the psalmist concludes the song by declaring, “Let the one who is wise heed these things and ponder the loving deeds of the LORD” (v. 43). The community would do well to remember the saving work of Yahweh because the world remains a place fraught with dangers and threats, as reflected in Psalms 107–45. The nations still stand in opposition (Pss 108–10). God’s people remain in need of deliverance, similar to those he once delivered from Egypt (Pss 113–18). Those who give faithful attention to God’s law find themselves “scorned and persecuted” even as they wait for God’s reign to be unfurled fully.²⁴ The Psalms of Ascents (Pss 120–34) recall regularly the threats posed by hostile forces and the need for the people of Israel to lift their eyes to God for deliverance (Ps 121). Even in the final Davidic collection (Pss 138–45), the psalmist acknowledges the need for God to rise up and put down the threats posed by the foreign powers (Ps 144). The book concludes with a lengthy acrostic poem that celebrates the kingship of Yahweh (Ps 145).

Books 4 and 5 declare that from beginning to end that God reigns. Although the kingship of God was picked up in earlier portions of the Psalter (cf. Pss 2, 46, and 48), the latter portion of the Psalter makes this confession “amid circumstances that seem to deny and belie it.”²⁵

The Conclusion to the Psalter: Psalms 146–50. The final five psalms in the Psalter provide an emphatic conclusion to the entire work. Overall, these psalms offer a sustained call to “praise the LORD.” Each of the five psalms contains an inclusio that opens and closes with the expression halleluyah, “praise the LORD.” This sustained call to praise God reaches a crescendo in Psalm 150. The entirety of the psalm is an extended call to worship the God who reigns. (See the comments on Ps 150.) The opening and closing lines in the final psalm contain the phrase halleluyah, “Praise the LORD,” and in the intervening verses (vv. 1b–5b) the verb halal, “to praise,” appears in every half-line in the psalm. Thus, while the earlier psalms (particularly Pss 3–89) were filled with lament, most notably lamenting the loss of kingship in Psalm 89, the final run of psalms suggests that lament does not have the final word in the lives of those who rely on the steadfast love of God—praise does. The final verse issues the invitation to acknowledge this confession: “Let everything that has breath praise the LORD” (Ps 150:6).

Theological Themes in the Book of Psalms

BECAUSE THE BOOK OF PSALMS is such a complex book, any attempt to construct a theology of Psalms will invariably fall short. Individual psalms, collections of psalms, and the Psalter itself were composed, collected, and edited by various individuals across a considerable period of time. Further, each psalm and certain collections of psalms (e.g., the Psalms of Ascents, Pss 120–34) appear to have been created to address particular theological, social, and existential concerns. For the most part, the “setting in life” (Sitz im Leben) of individual psalms has been lost to history, but their theological claims remain firmly embedded within the texts themselves. Despite the complexity of the Psalter and its lengthy compositional history, the book of Psalms demonstrates a remarkable consistency in its theological confession concerning God, humanity, and the interaction between the two.

In the opening chapter of his Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin declares that it is impossible to speak meaningfully about God without also speaking meaningfully about humanity, and similarly it is impossible to speak meaningfully about humanity without speaking about God. He writes, “Nearly all the wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.”²⁶ In many ways the Psalter does just that; it makes manifold theological claims concerning both God and humanity. In short, the Psalter is at once both theological and anthropological, about God and about humanity.

The pairing of Psalms 1 and 2 as the introduction to the Psalter suggests that perhaps these twin emphases were indeed intended to be the interpretative lenses through which to read the entire book. William Brown suggests that the first psalm serves “as the Psalter’s hermeneutical entry point.”²⁷ The psalm gives attention to the torah of Yahweh and the covenantal life of the “blessed” person. Moreover, this psalm presses the reader to a particular way of living before God and in some sense prefigures the call for “unobstructed reverence to God,” a call that appears repeatedly throughout the remainder of the Psalter.²⁸ In lament and in praise, in petition and in thanksgiving, the psalmist calls the people of God to a life of faithful worship and obedient living.

While Psalm 1 illumines the reader on the proper stance of humans before God (Ps 1:1–3), Psalm 2 provides a stunning reminder of God’s stance before the world. Although Psalm 2 was originally a royal psalm and likely part of a coronation ceremony for a human king, in its present location in the Psalter its primary function is to introduce “the pervasive proclamation of God’s reign,” a declaration that appears repeatedly in the Psalter.²⁹ This proclamation of the reign of God is set alongside the announcement that there are nations who conspire and peoples who “plot in vain” against God and his people. While the reign of God is certain in the book of Psalms, its unfolding remains plagued by the “enemies” that seek to confound the work of God in the world. Despite their presence in the world, the psalmists confess that these enemies (and nations) are not a formidable threat because they are as weak as the idols they serve (Ps 115:8). In contrast, the people of God confess that Yahweh “is the great God, the great King above all gods” (Ps 95:3).

Many of the subsequent affirmations about the work and activity of Yahweh are predicated on the assumption that Yahweh reigns as king. Given the breadth of the Psalter, an exhaustive assessment of its theology is not possible here. For those interested in further work on the theology of the Psalter, the works of Brown, Kraus, and McCann have proven to be reliable guides in that investigation.³⁰ In the brief treatment below, the themes of “Yahweh as King” and “Humans in the World” will be considered before concluding with a brief assessment concerning the two-fold function of the Psalter.

Yahweh as King. Although the book of Psalms employs a number of metaphors, the image of Yahweh as king has been identified as the “root metaphor.” Tryggve N. D. Mettinger suggests that a root metaphor “feeds a whole family of extended metaphors; it comprises the genetic code of a broad complex of ideas.”³¹ As suggested above, the kingship of Yahweh is referenced first in Psalm 2 but finds its most forceful articulation in Book 4 of the Psalter (Pss 90–106). Embedded within this collection are a number of psalms designated as Yahweh malak psalms, so named because they contain two Hebrew words, which can be translated “the LORD Reigns.”³² In addition to the declaration of the reign of God, these psalms also depict Yahweh as a king, as one “robed in majesty” (Ps 93:1), as one who executes justice and equity in the world (Pss 96:10; 99:4). Beyond the collection found in Book 4, other psalms (e.g., Ps 145) make explicit reference to Yahweh as a king (melek), thus reinforcing the Psalter’s proclamation concerning the kingship of God. Whether explicitly announced (Ps 97:1) or more subtly claimed (Ps 82), the reign of Yahweh stands as the central theological claim of the Psalter.

Yahweh as Creator. In attempting to portray the rule of God, the psalmists often refer to God’s power as creator. Several psalms (Pss 29, 93, and 104) invoke ancient Near Eastern images of a cosmic combat with primeval chaos. For the psalmist, these images of a primeval battle support the claim that Yahweh reigns and, further, that the reigning King has the capacity to create order out of chaos anew. Other texts affirm Israel’s confession that Yahweh is indeed the maker of heaven and earth (e.g., Pss 95:6; 121:2); he is the one enthroned in the heavens and is continuing his faithful work in governing all of creation (Pss 147:8–9; 148:8). As the Creator King, Yahweh rules the cosmos, his created kingdom, thus ensuring the people of Israel that their past, present, and future are not open to the whims of fate or the malevolence of foreign powers but, instead, are guided by the one who has called all things into being and thus can be trusted to continue sustaining his people. The image of God as creator celebrates what God has done and the power associated with such acts, but even more this image celebrates and anticipates what God may yet do through his continued creative work in the world as the Divine King.

Yahweh as Refuge. Following the work of Jerome Creach, William Brown has argued that the metaphor of “refuge” (mahseh) is critical to the theology of the Psalter.³³ Psalm 2 concludes with the declaration, “blessed are all who take refuge in him [Yahweh].” Much of the Psalter proves to be a theological reflection on that confession. Yet the complexity of the confession “Yahweh is a refuge” requires further explication and necessitates another set of metaphors to make the meaning clearer. To capture the larger sense of refuge, the psalmists refer to Yahweh as a “rock” or “cleft,” a place of protection when life is under threat (Ps 62:6–7). Still other psalms draw from military imagery in declaring Yahweh as refuge. He is a “shield” and “fortress” (cf. Ps 144:1–2) for those enduring the hostile actions of others. In the well-known Psalm 46, the psalmist refers to the roaring of the chaotic waters and the uproar of the nations, yet the psalm opens with the confession that “God is our refuge and strength” and then twice that Yahweh is a fortress of protection for his people (vv. 7, 11). In other psalms, the psalmists refer to being in the shadow of Yahweh’s wings (e.g., Pss 17:8; 36:7). Although this metaphor emerges from the constellation of images associated with animals, particularly those from the ornithological world, the metaphor of wings is connected with a notion of refuge meant to connote the protective and nurturing capacity of God.

Although the descriptions of Yahweh as refuge draw from a broad array of images, they are rooted in the confession that God is king.³⁴ Only the king has sufficient power and authority to provide this kind of protection.

The City of the Great King. The city of Jerusalem, Zion, is the city of the Great King. This declaration may appear at odds with the earlier confession concerning Yahweh as the Creator King. As noted above, the psalmists often refer to God as one enthroned in the heavens, the Divine King who stands over all. In other places, however, an earthly counterpart to Yahweh’s heavenly throne is mentioned—the city of Jerusalem. In referring to heavenly and earthly thrones, the psalmists confess through metaphorical language both the transcendence and immanence of God. To be the Divine King, Yahweh must rule over all. He must sit over the cosmos as both Creator and Sustainer. But for Israel to be the beneficiaries of that rule, he must be accessible and present to his people.

A number of psalms confess that Zion functions as the place where God has chosen to make his presence known to his people (e.g., Pss 46, 48, 84, and 87). Yet such confessions are not meant to confine or limit God; instead, they serve as reminders of the significance of God’s presence among his people. Because of the nearness of God and his felt presence in Zion, people made pilgrimages to Zion, as evident in the Psalms of Ascents (Pss 120–34). Yet even those pilgrimage psalms held in tension the nearness of God in Zion with the power of the God enthroned in the heavens (cf. Pss 123:1; 124:8).

Because Yahweh was present in the city of Zion, the people trusted in the power of God to protect them. In Psalm 48:3 God is said to be in the citadels of the city, thus causing the kings of the nations to flee in terror at the sight of him and leading Israel to confess, “In the city of the LORD Almighty, in the city of our God: God makes her secure forever” (Ps 48:8). Because the Divine King is enthroned in Zion, the people enjoy not only the felt presence of God but, even more, the protection afforded them by the presence of the Divine King.

Humans in the World

THE PSALTER OPENS WITH THE DECLARATION ’ashre ha-’ish, “blessed is the one.” While the Psalter is rooted in the confession that Yahweh reigns, the collection also gives considerable attention to what it means to be human in the world. Athanasius, in his Letter to Marcellinus, explained, “For I think that in the words of this book all human life is covered, with all its states and thoughts and that nothing further can be found in man.”³⁵ Or, as Thomas Merton put it, “This is the secret of the Psalms. Our identity is hidden in them. In them we find ourselves and God. In these fragments, He has revealed not only himself to us, but ourselves to him.”³⁶ Thus to read the psalms is indeed to worship the living God, but it is also to reflect theologically on what it means to be human.

The Way of Human Life. Psalm 1 concludes with the reminder that “the LORD watches over the way of the righteous.” William Brown has rightly noted that the metaphor of the pathway plays an important role in the theology of the Psalter, particularly as it pertains to the theological anthropology found in and across this collection of texts.³⁷ Psalm 1 is properly labeled a torah psalm, not simply because of its reference to torah in verse 2 but, more generally, because of its didactic intention. The psalm calls the people of God to meditate on the torah and then to walk in the ways of the righteous. As a collection of prayers and liturgies, the Psalter has a morally formative function; these words call people to a particular way of life.

Similar to Psalm 1, the sui generis Psalm 119 unites the metaphor of the “way” with that of the torah of Yahweh. The opening verse reads, “Blessed are those whose ways [derek] are blameless, who walk according to the law [torah] of the LORD.” The remaining 175 verses in Psalm 119 guide the praying person into the way of life that is consonant with and reflective of God’s torah.³⁸ Although most psalms do not mention the torah explicitly, they do model human life as it is meant to be lived amid the darkness of lament and the glory of praise.

The instructive nature of psalms is quite evident in the entrance liturgies found in Psalms 15 and 24. Both psalms point to a particular way of life for the faithful by responding to the questions, “Who may dwell in your sacred tent?” (Ps 15:1) and “Who may ascend the mountain of the LORD?” (Ps 24:3). Early Jewish interpreters understood the role these psalms played in shaping the “way” of the reader. In the Babylonian Talmud (Mek. 23b–24a), a discussion ensues concerning the 613 commandments of the Torah, but amid this discussion the text explains that Psalms 15 and 24 actually contain a truncated version of the entirety of the Torah. The text reads:

R. Simlai when preaching said, “David came and reduced them to eleven [principles], as it is written. A Psalm of David. Lord who shall sojourn in Thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in Thy Holy Mountain? [i] He that walketh uprightly and [ii] worketh righteousness and [iii] speaketh truth in his heart; that [hath no slander upon his tongue, [v] nor doeth evil to his fellow, [vi] nor taketh up reproach against his neighbor, [vii] in whose eyes a vile person is despised, but [viii] he honoureth them that fear the Lord, [ix] He sweareth to his own hurt and changeth not, [x] he putteth not out his own money on interest, [xi] nor taketh a bribe against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved.³⁹

Thus as R. Simlai observed, the psalms function as instructional guides meant to point people to a faithful life that is lived consistently in the ways of God.

Human Life Amid Hostile Forces. The Psalter not only calls people to a particular way of life, the book also acknowledges the realities that accompany life. Repeatedly throughout the Psalter, the psalmist alludes to the threats and taunts of enemies that endanger human life. In the psalms of the individual, those who offer such threats are identified by various terms: “enemies” (Pss 3:7; 6:10; 7:5; 41:5); “foes” (Pss 3:1; 13:4; 23:5); “evildoers” (Pss 26:5; 27:2); and “the wicked” (Pss 3:7; 12:7; 26:5). In addition to excessive hubris (Pss 10:6; 14:1), the enemies appear to have turned their attention on the psalmist, whom they persecute in both word and deed. The psalmist invokes three metaphors in an attempt to capture the seriousness of the threat to human life: (1) the enemies are frequently compared to a hostile army that attacks a helpless people (Pss 27:3; 55:18); (2) the enemies of the individual are compared to hunters stalking their prey (Pss 9:15; 35:7–8); and (3) the enemies are compared to wild beasts that attack unsuspecting victims (Pss 22:12–13; 27:2).⁴⁰ In other psalms, particularly communal laments and royal psalms, the enemy refers to those nations hostile to Israel and Judah. Frequently they mock God’s people even as they mock God by asking, “Where is their God?” (Ps 115:2). In such contexts, the community implores Yahweh to act not only to redeem his people but also and more critically to restore “the glory of [his] name” (Ps 79:9).

The presence of enemies and hostile forces prompts the people of God to lament and cry out. In crying out to God about their present plight, the people are making a fundamental confession, namely, that the world remains in discord, far from the creational design of the Divine King. Although life under duress was never the design of Yahweh, the world remains awash in disruption and chaos nevertheless. Yet as Claus Westermann notes, “the point of the lament is not a self-depiction of suffering or self-pity, but to bring the end of suffering. The lament is an appeal to the one who can end suffering.”⁴¹ The psalmist declares that “the LORD watches over all who love him, but the all the wicked he will destroy” (Ps 145:20). Thus, the frequent references to the enemy validate the brokenness of human experience while also reinforcing Israel’s confession that Yahweh and Yahweh alone remains the only hope for a world absent of hostility and filled with shalom.

God’s Word to Humanity, Humanity’s Word to God

TO CONSIDER THE RICH TEXTURE of the theological claims in the Psalter, we must learn to read the Psalter in all of its fullness. As suggested above, the psalms guide us in thinking about God, but they also guide us in thinking about our own human condition. In other words, the psalms function theologically in two different directions: they speak of God and they also speak of us. In addition to the bifurcated theological vision across the book of Psalms, the Psalter also functions at two different levels. These texts are both God’s word to humanity and humanity’s word to God. Like all texts in Scripture, we are meant to pour over them, learn from them, and preach from them. We are called to listen to them and be shaped by them. But unlike the rest of Scripture, the words of the Psalter have the capacity to become our words to God, whether in corporate worship or in private devotion. They are our words when our hearts are filled with thanksgiving and bursting forth in praise. And they are our words when our hearts are devoid of words because of the circumstances of life.

At one church, I was asked to lead a series of Sunday morning conversations on the book of Psalms. During the session on lament, I was waxing on about the formal features of lament psalms and the theological claims inherent in such raw texts. I then mentioned, somewhat off-handedly, “the psalms of lament become our words when we have no words left to utter.” I continued on in my presentation but slowly became aware of the mother sitting next to me who was gently wiping tears from her face. Class members had long since stopped listening to me, as their attention had rightly turned to her. I paused. And then I asked if she had any comments. She reminded us about her autistic daughter, who was down in the children’s wing with the rest of our children. She explained that when her daughter was younger, she would go to the preschool room, like the rest of us who were parents, to pick up her child. And when all the children would run and jump into the arms of their parents and embrace them, her daughter stood in place, barely aware of her mother’s presence. She said, “I never received a hug from her; I never heard her utter the words ‘I love you, Mommy.’ ” The mother explained that after one painful Sunday, she remembered saying to herself, “I can no longer worship a God that would allow this to happen to a child, to my child.” She went home, gathered all her Bibles, placed them in a closet, and vowed never to return to church.

A year later, she said she was cleaning around the house and came across a Bible. As providence would have it, she opened this Bible to a familiar lament psalm and began to read, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?” With tears in her eyes she said, “That was what I had wanted to say to God for so long, but I did not have the words.” Those words became her words. She joined the great cloud of witnesses throughout history who, through liturgy, worship, and private devotion, have prayed these psalms as prayers to the living God.

To read the Psalter theologically necessitates both listening and speaking. This commentary gives considerable attention to the former by inviting us to listen to the claims being made about God, humanity, and the interaction between the two. But the call to listen must always be balanced by the call to speak, to make these texts our words to God. In listening and in speaking, we are sure to be transformed by the living God, to whom these words bear witness and to whom they are directed.

—W. Dennis Tucker Jr.

1. Gerald H. Wilson, Psalms, Volume 1, NIVAC (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2002).

2. Ibid., 35–57.

3. Hermann Gunkel, The Psalms: A Form Critical Introduction, FBBS 19, trans. Thomas M. Horner (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1967); Sigmund Mowinckel, The Psalms in Israel’s Worship, 2 vols., trans. D. R. Ap-Thomas (Nashville: Abingdon, 1962).

4. In Psalms, Volume 1, 59–64, Gerald H. Wilson outlines in greater detail the monumental contributions of Gunkel and Mowinckel.

5. Quoted in Herman Gunkel, An Introduction to the Psalms, MLBS, trans. James D. Nogalski (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1998), 340.

6. Brevard Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979).

7. Ibid., 512.

8. Gerald H. Wilson, The Editing of the Hebrew Psalter, SBLDS 76 (Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1985). For an assessment of Wilson’s work and its influence on the discipline after more than two decades, see the collection of essays in Nancy deClaissé-Walford, ed., The Shape and Shaping of the Book of Psalms: The Current State of Scholarship, AIL 20 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2014).

9. Gerald H. Wilson, “The Structure of the Psalter,” in Interpreting the Psalms: Issues and Approaches, eds. David Firth and Philip S. Johnston (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2005), 229–46.

10. Other personal names appear in the Psalter as well, but with far less frequency: Heman (Ps 88); Solomon (Pss 72; 127); Moses (Ps 90); and Ethan (Ps 89).

11. Wilson, Psalms, Volume 1, 78–79.

12. J. Clinton McCann Jr., “The Book of Psalms,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. 4, ed. Leander Keck (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), 658, contends that ’elohim was original to the psalms in this collection. For an alternative view, see Joel S. Burnett, “A Plea for David and Zion: the Elohistic Psalter as Psalm Collection for the Temple’s Restoration,” in Diachronic and Synchronic: Reading the Psalms in Real Time. Proceedings of the Baylor Symposium on the Book of Psalms, ed. Joel S. Burnett, W. H. Bellinger Jr., and W. Dennis Tucker Jr., LHBOTS 488 (New York: T&T Clark, 2007), 96–113.

13. William G. Braude, The Midrash on Psalms (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1954), 1:5.

14. Largely under the influence of Frank-Lothar Hossfeld and Erich Zenger, German scholarship has also focused on matters related to the editorial purpose of the Psalter. The scholars’ methodological assumptions are clearly on display in their two commentaries: Psalms 2, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005), and Psalms 3, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2011). Hossfeld and Zenger, along with much of the German work on the Psalter, reflects a more decidedly diachronic approach to the text. While they focus on the final form, they are particularly interested in the historical processes that were at work in reaching that final form. North American scholarship, as a rule, has been more synchronic in orientation—less concerned with how the final form reached its current state than in what the final form means. See, for example, McCann, “The Book of Psalms,” and Nancy deClaissé-Walford, Rolf A. Jacobson, Beth LaNeel Tanner, The Book of Psalms, NICOT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2014).

15. Scott A. Starbuck, Court Oracles in the Psalms: The So-Called Royal Psalms in their Ancient Near Eastern Context, SBLDS 172 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 1999), 205–12.

16. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture, 516.

17. Wilson argued that Ps 1 was added quite late as an introduction to the Psalms corpus, and Pss 146–50 as a conclusion.

18. The only other historical superscription is in Ps 142.

19. Pharaohs and other ancient Near Eastern kings frequently uttered prayers to their respective deities asking for divine blessing and prosperity for their sons/successors. Brevard Childs contended that Ps 72 should be understood as a prayer for Solomon offered up by David (Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament, 516).

20. Wilson, “The Structure of the Psalter,” 234.

21. Erich Zenger also signals a cautionary note regarding Wilson’s claim. See Zenger, “The Composition and Theology of the Fifth book of Psalms, Psalms 107–145,” JSOT 80 (1998): 77–102.

22. See Zenger, “The Composition and Theology of the Fifth book of Psalms”; Klaus Koch, “Der Psalter und seine Redaktionsgeschichte,” in Neue Wege der Psalmenforschung, HBS 1, ed. Klaus Seybold and Erich Zenger (Freiburg: Herder, 1994), 243–77; Richard Kratz, “Die Tora Davids: Psalm 1 und die doxologische Fünfteilung des Psalters,” ZTK 89 (1996): 1–34. Among the more recent assessments of the structure of Book 5, see Frank-Lothar Hossfeld and Erich Zenger, Psalms 3, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2011), 1–7, and Michael K. Snearly, The Return of the King: Messianic Expectation in Book V of the Psalter, LHBOTS 624 (London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2016).

23. Note that beyond the superscription in Ps 90, Moses is also mentioned in Pss 99:6; 103:7; 105:26; 106:16, 23, 32; he is only mentioned in the Psalter one time outside Book 4 (Ps 77:20). On Book 4 as a “Moses book,” see Marvin E. Tate, Psalms 51–100, WBC 20 (Waco, TX: Word, 1990), xxvi. See also the comments in Wilson, The Editing of the Hebrew Psalter, 217–19.

24. McCann, “The Book of Psalms,” 663.

25. Ibid.

26. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion I.1.1, ed. J. T. McNeil; trans. F. L. Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960), 35. See the larger discussion concerning Calvin’s reading of the Psalter in Herman J. Selderhuis, Calvin’s Theology of the Psalms (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007), 21–43.

27. William P. Brown, Seeing the Psalms: A Theology of Metaphor (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2002), 55.

28. Ibid., 78.

29. McCann Jr., “The Book of Psalms,” 665.

30. Brown, Seeing the Psalms; Hans-Joachim Kraus, Theology of the Psalms, trans. Keith Crim (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992); J. Clinton McCann Jr., A Theological Introduction to the Book of Psalms (Nashville: Abingdon, 1993).

31. Tryggve N. D. Mettinger, In Search of God (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 92–93.

32. McCann Jr., A Theological Introduction to the Book of Psalms, 41–50.

33. Brown, Seeing the Psalms, 15–30; Jerome F. D. Creach, Yahweh as Refuge and the Editing of the Hebrew Psalter, JSOTSup 217 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1996).

34. Creach, Yahweh as Refuge, 51–52.

35. Athanasius, “The Letter of St. Athanasius to Marcellinus on the Interpretation of the Psalms,” in On the Incarnation: The Treatise “De incarnatione Verbi Dei” (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary, 1996), 97–119; see p. 116.

36. Thomas Merton, The Sign of Jonas (New York: Image Books, 1956), 248.

37. Although the Hebrew term derek (“way”) appears in Ps 1:6, other terms appear throughout the Psalter as synonyms, all referring to a “path” or “way.”

38. On the role of Ps 119 as a morally formative text, see Brown, Seeing the Psalter, 31–34.

39. Quoted in John Barton, “Sin in the Psalms,” Studies in Christian Ethics 28 (2015): 49–58; see p. 55.

40. Hans-Joachim Kraus, The Theology of the Psalms, trans. Keith Crim (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1992), 130–31.

41. Quoted in Bernd Janowski, Arguing with God: A Theological Anthropology of the Psalms, trans. Armin Siedlecki (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2009), 45.