Original Meaning
Introductory call to praise and intercession (106:1–5)
GIVE THANKS TO THE LORD, FOR HE IS GOOD; HIS LOVE ENDURES FOREVER. The opening call to praise is justified by one of the standard psalmic confessions of faith: Yahweh is by nature good, and he is forever faithful to his covenant (see Pss 118:1; 136:1). Hossfeld describes this formula as “indispensable in Psalm 106,” since the remainder of the poem entirely presupposes the goodness and grace of God.3
The poet’s intercessions at the beginning and end of the psalm (Ps 106:4–5, 47) and his account of Israel’s continuing history are completely predicated on the awareness of Yahweh’s fundamental goodness and his loving commitment to his people. The psalmist could not offer his prayers apart from belief in a God of grace. The history of the nation would never have continued for as long as it did apart from God’s steadfast love even for a rebellious people.
Who can proclaim the mighty acts of the LORD? Continuing his focus on the goodness of God, the psalmist asks a question that is not entirely rhetorical—one that forces reflection on Yahweh’s historical interventions in Israel’s behalf.4
It compels the hearer to think about all God has done to preserve, protect, and prosper his people. The question inherently implies the impossibility of the task. Just as it is impossible to express fully or even adequately God’s worth in praise, so also it is impossible to give an account of all God’s activity in human history for the benefit of the covenant community. But the question is as much leading as it is rhetorical, for it is actually answered in verse 3. Effectively, verse 2 functions as a bridge in the progression of the psalmist’s thought. It provides further rationale for the opening statement of praise by expanding on verse 1. It also carries with it the question of appropriate response to such a God, as is developed in verse 3. Why give thanks (v. 1)? Because of the list of God’s innumerable actions. Who can give account (v. 3)? Those who maintain justice and constantly do what is right.5
Blessed are those who act justly, who always do what is right. The sense of covenantal expectation is heightened in verse 3. Covenantal background is implied by the link with Psalm 105 and reinforced by the opening statement of God’s character (Ps 106:1, where his covenantal love “endures forever”). Justice and righteousness are the covenantal responsibilities of God’s people. He promises his steadfast love (hesed) and peace (shalom) and expects his people to practice justice (mishpat) and righteousness (tsedaqah).6
The blessing statement (cf. Ps 1:1) contextualizes the discussion that follows. Those who delight in God’s justice and righteousness live their lives under his blessing. But that is the requirement of the covenantal relationship. The desire of God’s people should be to live their lives consistently (“always” in the NIV; “at all times” in the Hebrew) in accordance with his ways and standards. Such is the clear expectation of the God of the covenant, and the psalmist goes on from here to show just how far the people fell short of that anticipated response.7
Remember me, LORD. This intercession comes as something of a surprise in the opening flow of the psalm. If anything, one would expect the continuation of the call to worship or transition into the body of the psalm. But the poet’s prayer for divine remembrance and blessing is a fitting introduction to his ensuing reflections on human failure and forms an inclusio around the body of the psalm with the concluding prayer of verse 47. Once again, picking up on imagery derived from Psalm 105, the psalmist prays that God would “remember” him. Inevitably, divine remembrance of the individual implies that Yahweh will be faithful to his covenantal promises.8
Come to my aid when you save them. The prayer is for God’s intervention in the psalmist’s present realities. The psalmic language of salvation seeks God’s intervention in historic, real-world circumstances. Seeking Yahweh’s saving work implies that the poet does not see his God at work in the temporal realities of the world around him.
That I may enjoy the prosperity of your chosen ones. That “chosen ones,” “rejoice/glad,” “nation,” and “portion” of inheritance also appear in Psalm 105 emphasizes the connections between the two poems.9
Interpretations vary with regard to the object of the poet’s prayer. Some people see this petition as the prayer of a proselyte asking to receive the blessing of a true Israelite.10
Others see it as the prayer of an exile unable to access the benefits of the “chosen ones” who had enjoyed their own land, city, and temple prior to the fall of Jerusalem.11
Either view could be consistent with the text. But the prayer could simply be read as the earnest appeal of an individual believer to experience God’s saving power for himself as part of the believing community. We should note the language of “remembering” (zakar) and “visiting” (paqad, translated “come to my aid” in the NIV). These verbs are strongly linked with the exodus in the mind of the Hebrew reader (Exod 2:24; 3:15–16). Yahweh remembered his covenant with Abraham and as a result visited his people in their suffering to bring them release. The psalmist prays that he personally (along with the rest of God’s people) might experience just such an act of redemption. Regardless of the individual’s status (proselyte) or historical location (Babylonian exile), the prayer simply seeks God’s saving grace and renewal.
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Forgetfulness from the Beginning (106:6–12)
WE HAVE SINNED, EVEN AS OUR ANCESTORS DID. It is always easy to point the finger at others—particularly at past generations of people who are remote from us and not here to defend themselves. The arrogance of the modern can lead us to assume that we will not make the mistakes of our forebears. Jesus had just the same conversation with the Pharisees and teachers of the law (Luke 11:47–51). But the writer of Psalm 106 does not fall prey to the same temptation and confesses the sinfulness of his own generation alongside the sins of his fathers.12
Clearly, reflection on the events of the exile led the people to a sober understanding of their own failings.13
The attitude reflected in verse 6, however, is exemplary for every generation and community of faith. When we see ourselves as better than others, we place ourselves at great spiritual risk, and awareness of failings serve us better, spiritually speaking, than any false confidence in our own abilities.
We have done wrong and acted wickedly. Here is the polar opposite of the blessed person of verse 3. The vocabulary of “sinned,” “done wrong,” and “acted wickedly” is contrary to “acting justly” and “doing what is right.” This confession shows a realistic awareness on the part of the psalmist of just how dependent he and his peers are on the grace of God in response to his prayer for salvation (vv. 4–6).
They gave no thought . . . they did not remember . . . they rebelled. Once again we return to the familiar theme of this section of Book 4—the theme that forgetfulness of God’s character and activity in our behalf will inevitably lead to sin. Carelessness of thought is the first stepping stone to rebelliousness of action. The initial verb is found most typically in the wisdom literature and indicates an attitude of reflection or contemplation that leads to insight and understanding.14
Failure to reflect on God’s miraculous works in behalf of his people combined with their failure to remember the many kindnesses he had shown to them led to their rebellion in a time of stress.15
The irony of this record of rebellion, of course, is that the Red Sea16
becomes synonymous with God’s mighty acts of salvation in behalf of his people (Exod 14:13–14). Yet immediately prior to the miraculous parting of the waters and the destruction of the armies of the greatest superpower of the day, the people who had just witnessed the amazing feats of the exodus assume the worst and whine against God, thus calling his good character into question.17
The warning is clear: the root of this rebellion is found in the failure to reflect on and remember the character of God.18
Yet he saved them for his name’s sake, to make his mighty power known. Verse 8 suggests that God’s saving activity is predicated on his character rather than his people’s actions and what they deserve. Yahweh saved Israel because he was true to himself, not because the people responded well to the threat they faced. Being true to his own character means that God will be true to his nature as a missionary God.19
Rebuking the Red Sea not only saved his people but also revealed his great power to Egypt and the surrounding nations (Num 22–23). Yahweh’s actions in behalf of his people communicate to the world more about him than they do about us.
Then they believed his promises and sang his praise. The miraculous parting of the Red Sea, revisited in Psalm 106:9–11, showed the folly of the people’s initial response to the threat they faced and ultimately led them to a more appropriate reaction (v. 12). But the change of heart was not lasting.20
The conjunction is probably telling here—“then they believed his promises” (emphasis added). The psalmist’s point is that, had they reflected properly on the character and works of God in the first place, they would have believed prior to their great water trial, and as a result their praise would have been all the more heartfelt.
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Hurrying to Forget in the Desert (106:13–18)
BUT THEY SOON FORGOT WHAT HE HAD DONE. Verse 13 could be translated more literally, “They hurried to forget what he had done and did not wait for his counsel.” The clear implication is that the change of heart and mind in verse 12 was not lasting, and indeed, looking back, it is as though the people put some real effort into their forgetfulness. All too soon after the experience of God’s mighty deliverance at the Red Sea, the people’s selective amnesia returns and they rebel.21
And did not wait for his plan to unfold. The idea of waiting for God’s counsel is also borrowed from the wisdom corpus. The plan (‘etsah) of God can be his “advice” or “guidance” (Job 12:13), but the same word can also be used in reference to God’s broader “design” or “plan” for life (Ps 20:4; Job 38:2).22
If we read ‘etsah in this way, as the NIV does, then it implies that the people were too quick to complain against God, and in rejecting his plan they question the goodness of his character or ability. Having seen what Yahweh is like, the people should have remembered his goodness and waited for the outworking of his providence in their behalf, but instead they hurried to forget and rebellion soon followed.
In the desert they gave in to their craving. Verses 14–15 probably refer to the almost absurd rebellion in Numbers 11:4–35, where the people complain about the miraculous provision of food in the desert and start whining about the lack of meat. Of course, all they had to do was ask for meat and God would have provided, but the absurdity arises in their memory of Egypt (Num 11:4–6).23
They present it as a place full of fresh produce rather than a place of slavery, torture, and brutality. What difference does garlic make when people are being beaten to death? In revising their history in Egypt, the people also revise their understanding of Yahweh. Instead of being their Redeemer, he becomes a killjoy. Instead of saving them from oppression, he has simply robbed them of fresh fish and cucumbers. This revising trivializes the miraculous work of God. The exodus was impossible, humanly speaking, yet it was accomplished by God. Feeding thousands of people in the desert was impossible, yet it too was accomplished by God. But lack of meat (“craving”) led them to “put God to the test” (i.e., effectively to reject Yahweh; Num 11:20).24
The earth opened up and swallowed Dathan. The second desert rebellion reprised by the psalmist (Ps 106:16–18) is found in Numbers 16, where Dathan and Abiram are among a group that leads a rebellion against Moses and Aaron. Once again the essence of the issue is right relationship with Yahweh—“these men have treated the LORD with contempt” (Num 16:30). The rebellions called into question the goodness of God’s character and his design for the people.
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Forgetting God at Sinai (106:19–23)
AT HOREB THEY MADE A CALF AND WORSHIPED AN IDOL CAST FROM METAL. There is an implied sense of absolute incredulity in Psalm 106:19–20. The actions are unbelievable and the location even worse. Making an idol from metal and declaring that inanimate thing to be the living God is farcical enough, but doing so at Sinai, the place of ultimate revelation prior to the incarnation, exacerbates the crime.25
The pathetic truth laid out by the psalmist is that God’s people “exchanged their glorious God for an image of a bull, which eats grass.” Could there possibly be anything more absurd? To have seen the miracles worked in their own historical reality (plagues, Passover, passage through the Red Sea, water from a rock, supply of manna and quails, theophany on Sinai) and then to make an idol from metal that they themselves knew full well had nothing to do with their release from Egypt combined, as far as the psalmist is concerned, to make the ultimate absurdity. Exchanging the glory of the invisible but living God for a piece of metal fashioned after a creature that eats grass26
—what was the point? Had the people just stopped to think, surely they would have realized for themselves the stupidity of such behavior, but forgetfulness had stepped in once again.
They forgot the God who saved them. The essence of the issue once more is forgetfulness of the works of God in behalf of his people (vv. 21–22). Had the people reflected for a moment on all that Yahweh had done for them in getting them out of Egypt, the calf would never have been made.27
So he said he would destroy them—had not Moses . . . stood in the breach. The intercessory role played by Moses saved the people more than once, but his mediation following the golden calf incident led to one of the most profound revelations of God’s character in Exodus 34:6.28
Moses’s prayers saved the exodus generation.29
The psalmist’s hope seems to be that the intercession of the current generation will lead to a similar expression of divine mercy (Ps 106:4–5, 47).
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Failing to Believe the Promise of a Land (106:24–27)
THEN THEY DESPISED THE PLEASANT LAND. The next failing highlighted by the psalmist is the people’s response to the report of “the ten faint-hearted spies sent to scout out the land” (Num 13–14).30
The verb used in Psalm 106:24a (ma’as) is a strong one and implies, again, the rejection of the divine plan.31
The root cause of this rejection is failure to believe (v. 24b). Similarly, verse 25 begins with an action resulting from a failure to do what was expected of them. The desert generation grumbled in their tents (cf. Deut 1:27) rather than “obey[ing] [Hebrew “listening to”] the voice of the LORD.” Failure to believe and obey led to negative consequences for that generation of God’s people.
So he swore to them with uplifted hand. The people’s failure to believe and obey led Yahweh to make with them a covenant of an altogether different type: he promised they would all die in the desert because of their inability to believe in and follow him. The physical gesture of swearing with uplifted hand indicates a solemn vow.32
Make their descendants fall among the nations. Psalm 106:27 telescopes the effects of the fathers’ failings and focuses on the impact in the psalmist’s generation. The desert generation’s failure to believe and obey had significant consequences not only for them but also for their heirs. Faithlessness has a cross-generational impact that resonates through the ages from exodus to exile.33
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Provoking Yahweh through Idolatry (106:28–33)
THEY YOKED THEMSELVES TO THE BAAL OF PEOR. As in the book of Judges, just when the reader thinks that things could not possibly get any worse, events nosedive further. Five of the six verses in this stanza begin with the waw-conjunction (“then,” “and,” or “but”) and the sixth with the causative ki (“for”). Their “yoking” leads to a string of events that shows the ups and downs of a community’s unraveling and veering away from its true identity. “Then they yoked themselves . . .,” “and they ate . . .,” “but Phineas stood up . . .,” “and this was credited . . .,” “but they angered the LORD . . .,” “for they rebelled. . . .” Even the actions of the best of Israelites (Phineas and Moses) could not save that generation from their rebellion. The lack of belief and obedience highlighted in the previous stanza ultimately manifests itself in idolatry. Verse 28b refers, literally, to the “sacrifices to the dead”—possibly offerings made on behalf of dead ancestors (a practice prohibited in Deut 26:14), but the NIV’s translation is probably to be preferred here. Following on from the reference to the golden calf as a metal image of a thing that eats grass (Ps 106:19–20), the psalmist reminds the reader that these gods are dead, “sacrifices offered to lifeless gods.”34
But Phineas stood up and intervened. The events of Numbers 25 describe an idolatrous orgy of cultic prostitution quelled only by the radical intervention of Phineas. The language echoes the actions of Moses in Psalm 106:23 and presents Phineas as an intermediary who is zealous for God’s purposes to be fulfilled (Num 25:13). His intervention stayed the immediate punishment but was not enough to secure obedience on the part of the people. Just as Moses’ prayer saved them from destruction (Ps 106:23), so Phineas’ intervention saved them from the plague, but neither of these representative actions was enough to bring a change of heart and behavior on the part of the people.
By the waters of Meribah they angered the LORD. The place name Meribah is a byword for the failure of God’s people (Exod 17:1–7; Num 20:1–13; Ps 95:8). As we have already seen above regarding food in the desert (Ps 106:13–15), it is the revisionist take on their shared history in Egypt and the associated aspersions cast regarding God’s good character and good plan that provoke God’s anger. The addition of “and trouble came to Moses because of them” refers to Numbers 20:9–12 and adds the image of communal sin’s bringing down even a leader of great faith and obedience. Faithlessness has repercussions.
For they rebelled against the Spirit of God. As footnoted in the NIV, there is a translational issue here. The text simply alludes to the fact that “they rebelled against his spirit.” So, the question becomes, Is this a reference to Yahweh’s Spirit or to Moses’ spirit? Either option is possible, but the latter is more likely. Note the flow this understanding gives to Psalm 106:32–33: they troubled Moses by rebelling against his spirit—therefore he spoke rashly. The action for which Moses is punished is rooted in the constant, vexing rebellion of the people.35
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Polluting the land with blood (106:34–39)
THEY DID NOT DESTROY THE PEOPLES AS THE LORD HAD COMMANDED THEM. Disobedience first crosses generations in this stanza. Following the disobedience and disbelief of the desert generations, now their children—the first generation to live in the land—fail to meet the command to drive out the Canaanite tribes from the land (Deut 7:1–11). For contemporary readers, the conquest command itself can seem difficult to understand. It was not rooted in any sense of ethnic cleansing. It was, rather, a moral imperative to prevent the pagan worship practices that resulted in the slaughter of innocents through the habitual sacrifice of children. As with the previous generation, the issue boils down to one of simple obedience. They knew that mingling with the Canaanites meant running the risk of adopting their abhorrent religious practices (Deut 7:4; cf. Ps 106:35–36).
They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to false gods. The unbelievable once again became “normal” practice. The failure to drive the nations out led, as predicted by Moses, to religious syncretism, which inevitably led to the practice of child sacrifice in the land by Yahweh’s
own people. They polluted the land by performing the same act that had originally provided part of the motivation for God’s promising the land to Abraham (Gen 15:12–16). The Canaanite tribes were spewed out of the land because their toxic slaughter of their own children polluted the very ground they inhabited.36
Yet Israel, not long after their conquest of Canaan, was practicing the same abhorrent acts and desecrating the land in the same manner. What fate could they reasonably expect other than the same one that befell the Canaanites? The people had been warned from the outset that they would face the same fate as the original inhabitants if they failed to live life differently in the land (Deut 4, 7, and 28).37
They defiled themselves by what they did. Verse 39 makes a clear statement concerning the realities of covenantal identity. Being called by God and being the recipients of a particular promise grants Israel no special privileges with regard to the behaviors he expects of all humanity. Israel’s covenantal status does not change or lessen the moral obligations placed on the nation. If anything, their obligation to follow God’s paths is increased by the privilege of being recipients of his instruction (Deut 4). The people were meant to be distinctive from all the other tribes and nations. “By what they did; by their deeds,” God’s people—though recipients of all the blessings of the covenant—proved themselves unworthy of their calling, so the punishments of Deuteronomy 28 were bound to unfold as promised by God. As people, we are defined by what we do rather than by any identity we might claim for ourselves. Israel may have claimed to be “a nation apart,” but the psalmist says their deeds proved them otherwise.
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Punishment and Grace in Exile (106:40–46)
THEREFORE THE LORD WAS ANGRY WITH HIS PEOPLE. The rhetoric of the psalmist is clear. Given the truncated history recounted to this point, the conclusion of Psalm 106:40 is absolutely inevitable. By summarizing the history of Israel in this manner—focusing on the many and repeated failures of the nation—the psalmist makes it plain that Yahweh could respond in no other way. The exile was the inevitable consequence of the nation’s action.38
He gave them into the hands of the nations. Exile is, in effect, a reversal of the exodus. Yahweh freed his people from the control of a mighty and oppressive power with the warning that they are to live differently in the land. Failure so to do will result in a return to such oppressive control, and this consequence is recounted in verses 41–42. The language of “oppression” (lahats) in verse 42 is borrowed from the exodus narratives to make the point clear that the people, by their deeds, have placed themselves back in the very scenario of suffering that Yahweh saved them from in the first place (Exod 3:9). There is further irony in the use of the verb “ruled over them” (kana‘). This was meant to be the fate of the Canaanite nations under Israel’s hand because of their abhorrent practices (Deut 9:3). But the psalmist tells the reader, poignantly, that the tables are turned because Israel’s deeds were as bad as those of the original inhabitants of the land.
Many times he delivered them, but they were bent on rebellion. Verse 43 is, effectively, a summary of the covenantal relationship throughout the history of Israel. Many times Yahweh extended grace to his people despite their failure to maintain their covenantal obligations, yet the people “were bent on rebellion” (lit., “rebellious in their intent/purpose”). Acts of forgiveness, restoration, and renewal were ultimately met with further acts of rebellion. The verb used in the statement “they wasted away in their sin” (makak) is an unusual one and probably implies “sinking lower.” The image conveys the idea that the people’s constant return to sinful patterns of behavior was not just repetition but was debasement. Through their choices God’s people sank lower and lower.
Yet he took note of their distress when he heard their cry. Despite this image of decay and decline, once again grace triumphs over rebellion (vv. 44–46). Even having disobeyed for so long and with such determination that they incurred the ultimate covenantal curse of exile (cf. Deut 28:64–68), yet God’s people experience his mercy. The imagery of verse 44 is akin to the first exodus: God notices the suffering of the people, hears their cry, and responds with mercy (cf. Exod 2:23–25). Yahweh’s grace is expressed in staying the hand of Israel’s captors from the worst excesses of oppression (Ps 106:46). As seen in the covenantal curses of Deuteronomy 28, exile would normally be a painful and anxious experience (Deut 28:65–66), but, even after all that has gone before, God mitigates his people’s punishment by causing their captors to show them mercy.39
For their sake he remembered his covenant. In an echo of Psalm 105:8, even in the disaster of the people’s exile Yahweh remembers his covenantal promise.40
It is the motivation for this remembrance that strikes a poignant chord in Psalm 106:45. It is not for his own name’s sake that he remembers the covenant (v. 8), nor is it because of Abraham (Ps 105:42). Yahweh remembers his promise for their sake simply because he wanted to be true to the people despite their failures. His desire was to show love to them (Ps 106:45b) despite their lack of love for him.
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
Original Meaning
Intercession, Praise, and Conclusion to Book 4 (106:47–48)
SAVE US, LORD OUR GOD, AND GATHER US FROM THE NATIONS. The prayer for salvation places the psalmist with the people in the exile. Whether exile is his literal or metaphorical location is difficult to say.41
But the prayer resonates through all generations and communities of faith. Troubled by the burden of our own repeated sins, we all often feel exiled from God and, together with the poet, we cry out for his mercy and help.42
In an echo of verse 4, the psalmist voices the realization that it is only in prayer and by the response of grace that we can ever change and find release from our own determination to rebel. God’s grace despite our sin is our only hope.
That we may give thanks to your holy name and glory in your praise. The expectation of divine help brings with it the expectation of praise.43
The only appropriate response to the grace of salvation is to praise and delight in the one who saves us.
Praise be to the LORD, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting. The concluding call to praise serves as a doxology that indicates the close of Book 4 of the Psalter as well as the logical conclusion of the psalm. The message of both the psalm and the book (Psalms 90–106) is met with a call to communal praise. Despite the rebellion of the people (Psalm 106), God is gracious. Despite the exile and the loss of all the trappings of covenant (Book 4), Yahweh is still King; therefore, “Let all the people say, ‘Amen!’ Praise Yahweh.” What other possible conclusion could one draw from the poems of Book 4?
Bridging Contexts
PSALMIC HISTORY. History, despite modern protestations to the contrary, is never neutral. There is an expectation with modern works of history that the author should strive after some sense of neutrality and balance. Doing so is, of course, an impossibility because all history is inevitably selective and, therefore, to a greater or lesser extent, will reflect the biases, presuppositions, preferences, and predilections of the historian doing the writing. For contemporary historians there is an expectation that they will try, as far as they are able, to rein in these personal biases and to reflect as objectively as possible on the events under their gaze. Anything else is seen as preachy or agenda driven.
In the ancient world there was no such expectation. History was never intended to be unbiased, and it was always didactic in intent. Biblical history always intends to be preachy and agenda driven! Take, for example, the major histories of the Old Testament canon—the so-called Deuteronomistic History (Joshua–2 Kings) and the Chronicler’s history. In the main they cover the same period of Israel’s history and many of the same events, but their “take” on these matters is quite different. David, for example, is presented as politician, warrior, king, lover of Bathsheba, murderer of Uriah the Hittite, and the one who could not build the temple because he had blood on his hands in the Deuteronomistic History. Yet, at the same time, he is a devoted friend to Jonathan, fair and gracious where other kings would not have been, and passionate in his love for Yahweh. It is a “warts-and-all” presentation. David could be the best of Hebrews and commit the worst of sins.
The Chronicler’s presentation of David, however, is quite different. His text very much centers on the temple as the focal point of Israel’s worship. It is a history that desires to communicate the importance of right worship of Yahweh. The Chronicler’s David is, perhaps, best described as the great sponsor of the temple and the one who orders its worship. Bathsheba is only mentioned as the mother to David’s children and Uriah in a list of his mighty men. This David is psalmist, musician, and worship leader. The figure is the same man. The events are the same events. But each author puts David to a different use in his history. Here we see the way of ancient histories in general; they are driven by the rhetorical agendas of the author.44
History in the book of Psalms tends to function in much the same manner. Historical psalms are inherently selective; they telescope large tracts of history and, broadly speaking, tend to focus on relatively singular rhetorical purposes.45
The three classic examples of historical psalms are Psalms 78, 105, and 106. Psalm 78 is a lengthy account of the people’s rebellions that ends with a note of hope rooted in the worship of the temple and in a future king like David. Psalm 105 focuses on the great faithfulness of God in calling a people to himself and establishing them as a nation. Psalm 106, as we see above, focuses on the covenantal faithlessness of the people despite repeated grace, forgiveness, and restoration from Yahweh.
Psalm 78:1–8 illustrates well how the historical psalms work:
My people, hear my teaching;
listen to the words of my mouth.
I will open my mouth with a parable;
I will utter hidden things, things from of old—
things we have heard and known,
things our ancestors have told us.
We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD,
his power, and the wonders he has done.
He decreed statutes for Jacob
and established the law in Israel,
which he commanded our ancestors
to teach their children,
so the next generation would know them,
even the children yet to be born,
and they in turn would tell their children.
Then they would put their trust in God
and would not forget his deeds
but would keep his commands.
They would not be like their ancestors—
a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
whose spirits were not faithful to him.
Note the language of teaching, listening, parables, hidden and ancient truths, things heard and known, teaching the next generation, and so on. To what end? Verses 7–8 make the rhetorical intent of the psalmist clear, that the next generation would:
1. Put their trust in Yahweh;
2. Not forget his deeds;
3. Keep his commands; and
4. Not be disobedient like their forefathers.
There is a strong sense in which psalmic history is always and explicitly designed to teach. The lessons tend not to be subtle but instead obvious and emphasized through repetition. So, it is important to remember when encountering a historical psalm in personal reading or corporate study that a particular agenda is being driven by the psalmist. To get to the heart of the poem, then, we must ask ourselves the questions, “What is that agenda?” and “How, then, should I respond?”
Psalm 106 in the New Testament. Psalm 106 is alluded to a few times in the New Testament. Perhaps unsurprisingly, verse 20 seems to provide the basis for Paul’s teaching on the sin of idolatry in Romans 1:23.46
Similarly, we see repetitions of Psalm 106 in Paul’s historical précis and accompanying conclusions in 1 Corinthians 10 (Ps 106:14 in 1 Cor 10:6; Ps 106:37 in 1 Cor 10:20). But perhaps the most telling resonance from Psalm 106 in the New Testament is the theological conclusion to be drawn from this psalm. As human beings we are given to sin repeatedly, and we are thoroughly dependent on God’s grace both if we are to enjoy continued relationship with him and if any change is going to occur in our character and behavior (Rom 3).47
Contemporary Significance
REFUSING TO LIMIT GOD’S GRACE. Walter Brueggemann makes a helpful observation with regard to the conclusion of Psalm 106:
The world proposed in these psalms [Pss 105–106] is dialogically open. Each partner can do new things and neither partner is simply fated by past action. . . . Even when the psalms seem to have reached their rhetorical conclusion and their point of covenantal extremity, matters are kept open for new possibility. Thus after the long recital of sin, Psalm 106 nonetheless petitions for rescue. After the long recital of joy in Psalm 105, the concluding assertion is a summons to obedience. In both Psalm 105 and 106, the final statement moves boldly against the grain of the preceding extended argument. . . . The recital, in both cases, is not aimed at a conclusion, but at a fresh starting point in which new decisions are made.48
As Christians it is important for us to remember that we are not “fated by past action.” We can feel beaten down by a strong sense of our own moral failure. We have failed God. Repeatedly. And this despite our frequent protestation that we will do better in the future and will not fall prey to the same sins again. Most Christians, at some point in their lives, just feel condemned by the weight of their own sinfulness and dismayed by the repeating pattern of seeking forgiveness followed by sudden relapse in the same area of life. All too often, if we are honest, it seems as though our spiritual reality resembles that of the Israelites who “soon forgot what [God] had done for them” (Ps 106:13).
The psalmist’s prayer should be an example for us (v. 48). Just think about it. He lived long before the ultimate revelation of God’s grace in his Son—centuries before the cross. Yet the psalmist could recount a long list of the people’s failings, some of them horrible, and still conclude his poem with a prayer for salvation that seeks God’s grace once again. Therein lies the essence of the life of faith. We can always make a fresh start in the Lord Jesus. “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Rom 5:20–21).
The poet was able to believe that God’s grace was bigger and more determined than the often-repeated sins of the people. How much more should we, having seen what he has done for us in Jesus, be able to trust in God’s great love? What is more, as Brueggemann points out, even the psalmist and his community were not fated to fail repeatedly. How much more is this true for those who experience not only the cleansing of the cross but also the empowering of the Holy Spirit (Rom 5:1–11; 8)? As Paul instructs in Romans 6:11–14:
In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.
Could there be a better way for the psalmist to finish Book 4 of the Psalter? As a book that responds to the crisis of loss and the trauma of exile, Book 4 answers the pain of Book 3 with a message of Yahweh’s continued kingship and his people’s continued hope. Book 3 ends with the bitterest of questions: “Lord, where is your former great love?” Book 4 ends with the joint message of Psalms 105 and 106. God’s love is at work in our history and experience right here and right now, just as it always has been (Ps 105). What is more, God’s grace is available to us (even us!), despite the depth of our failings, just as it always has been (Ps 106).
There was hope for those in exile.
There is hope for us.
Let all the people say, “Amen!”
Praise the LORD. (Ps 106:48b)
