Original Meaning
Introduction (111:1–2)
THE FIRST TWO VERSES FUNCTION as an introduction to the psalm. Together they introduce both the purpose of the psalm as well as its primary theme.
Praise the LORD. The opening imperative stands outside the acrostic structure of the remainder of the psalm. As suggested above, the imperative functions as a title announcing the intent of the psalm and likely connecting it to subsequent psalms. The psalmist implores the audience to “praise the LORD” (halelu yah). The opening words suggest that Psalm 111 is a song of praise. The theme of praise, however, is defined further in the second line of the psalm. The poet announces that he will “extol the LORD with all my heart.” The verb “extol” (yadah) can mean to praise, but it can also mean “confess” or “proclaim.”2
While the difference between praise and confess may appear minimal, it proves instructive for understanding the purpose of the psalm. John Goldingay consistently renders the term yadah as “confess” or “make known,” thus leading him to label this psalm a confessional hymn.3
The language throughout the psalm confirms Goldingay’s claim. Throughout the poem the psalmist refers to God in the third person. This poem is not spoken to God by the psalmist; instead, it is a psalm spoken about God to the congregation (v. 1).
The works of the LORD
. In verse 2 the psalmist introduces the theme: the “works of the LORD.” The term “works” (ma‘asim) and the larger semantic domain associated with that term appear throughout the psalm. The works of the Lord are mentioned in verses 3, 4, 6, and 7. In response to the works of the Lord, the people are called in verses 8b and 10b to “do” the law of the Lord.
In verse 2b the psalmist announces that the works of the Lord, writ large, are “great.” In the ancient Near East, the term “great” was a descriptive term reserved primarily for the divine king.4
Thus verse 2a does far more than simply announce that the works of the Lord were spectacular (“great”). By invoking the term “great,” the psalmist actually attributes these works to Israel’s Divine King, the one about whom he is confessing and the one to whom praise belongs. The royal metaphor appears elsewhere in the psalm as well.
They are pondered by all who delight in them. For those who study the works of the Lord and seek them out, there is great delight and profit to be gained. The word “delight” (hepets) also appears in Psalm 1:2. There the psalmist refers to the “blessed” person “whose delight [hepets] is in the law of the LORD and who meditates on his law day and night.” Even as Psalm 1 calls for the blessed person to meditate on the law of God and to find delight in it, the psalmist in Psalm 111 offers similar counsel, but with the object of such study being the larger works of God. Verse 2 and the reference to the “works of the LORD” in no way precludes the law but, as suggested above, includes both the great acts he has carried out in Israel’s history as well as the giving of his precepts and laws for instruction.
Bridging Contexts
CONFESSING GOD. In the opening line of Psalm 111 the psalmist announces that he will confess the Lord with all of his heart. Perhaps because it is the opening line of the psalm, the reader may simply pass over such a comment in order to move to what may be perceived as “weightier matters.” But in making such a move the reader misses the significance of the opening claim: confession and testimony are central to the community of God’s people (v. 1b). This significance is not only true of Psalm 111 but is equally true elsewhere in the Psalter. Other psalmists frequently recount the “works of God,” or the “deeds of God,” and promise to yadah (“praise” or “confess”)—to make those deeds known in the congregation or to all people.13
These confessions function didactically in that they shape and inform those who hear them.
The connection between the works of God and confession was not lost on the New Testament writers either. The New Testament includes a number of texts aptly labeled “christological hymns.” These hymns recounted the works of God in and through Jesus Christ (e.g., Phil 2:5–11; Col 1:15–20); they were “reflexive and expressive of gratitude to God for all he had done for the world’s reconciliation and the church’s salvation.”14
But these texts were much more than recitals of history. Similar to Psalm 111, these texts were not to God, but about God and God’s way in the world; they were confessions in the truest sense of the word. As these texts were read, heard, and confessed, they shaped the theology of a formative Christian community seeking to maintain its identity amid a world of competing ideas and religious claims.
The Hebrew Psalter was likely compiled in the postexilic period under Persian rule, or perhaps even later; it was a time in which the Jewish community in Yehud (i.e., Judah) sought to maintain its identity amid a world of competing ideas. In response to that need, the psalmist makes a confession of praise. The psalm merges hymnology and theology, poetry and confession, thus drawing together the chief theological traditions in Israel’s history in didactic praise of their God.
The Work(s) of God. From beginning to end, Psalm 111 remains focused on the “works of God,” here interpreted as the deliverance from Egypt and the establishment of God’s law. These two works, however, have a singular focus: the faithfulness of God in the creation of his people. The fidelity of God to humanity, which is reflected throughout all Scripture, and more narrowly identified in these two great works of God in Psalm 111, creates the ground for our theological claims about God. Harry Nasuti has observed that in the book of Psalms we rarely find a description of God that is in isolation from the world.15
God can be described only as God is known in the world. Psalms that have a wisdom bent frequently explore God and God’s ways in the world with humanity. Rolf Jacobson contends that wisdom psalms typically “rest at the intersection between communal experience and testimony regarding the Lord’s fidelity.”16
Because this connection between experience and testimony is so vital, the psalmist calls the people of God to ponder, study, and delight in the stories of God’s faithful work for and in relationship with his people.
Although the allusions to the exodus and the wandering period in Psalm 111 are not overt, they are certainly present, as indicated above. The events of the exodus and the giving of the land represented the creation of God’s people formally. The significance of these events for the subsequent biblical tradition cannot be underestimated. The fact that the exodus tradition appears in various genres of exilic and postexilic texts suggests that this singular event represented a foundational moment in Israel’s history. Consequently, the foundational moment became a cipher for the moment when deliverance and fidelity converged. Out of God’s fidelity, Israel was delivered. This convergence of fidelity and deliverance yielded important theological claims about God, and these claims shaped (and continue to shape) the identity of those who prayed these psalms. The psalmist’s claim is straightforward: The work of God then, at that moment, remains the hope of the people now. Those who were living in the aftermath of the exile were reminded that they too were the people of God; that story was their story, that deliverance, theirs. There was, once again, reason to lift their voice in praise and confession (v. 1).
The psalmist mentions the law as the second “work of God.” Although the giving of the law occurred in association with the deliverance from Egypt, the emphasis in Psalm 111 is not on the process of giving the torah to his people, it is on torah itself (cf. vv. 7b, 8a, and 9b). The psalm juxtaposes salvation history (i.e., deliverance from Egypt) with covenantal instruction—and considers both of them the work of God. While the first work created a people, the second work offered the means to shape a people. In the exilic and postexilic period, torah obedience became a central marker in identifying those who sought to live in fidelity to God. In Isaiah 56:6, for example, God announces who will be identified as his people: “all who keep the Sabbath . . . and who hold fast to my covenant.” The emphasis on torah obedience during this period should not be construed as legalism but, instead, understood as a response of fidelity to an ever-faithful God who created his people and sustains them by his word.
Contemporary Significance
AS NOTED ABOVE, Psalm 111 is an acrostic. Throughout the psalm, from beginning to end, from aleph to tav, the psalmist repeatedly makes theological claims about God. These claims, however, are rooted in God’s story with Israel and, in turn, make certain claims upon God’s people both then and now. In his classic work After Virtue, Alasdair MacIntyre wrote, “I can only answer the question ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question: ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’ ”17
MacIntyre understands well the power of story. Stories have the capacity to root ourselves into something that is much bigger than any one individual. For example, most every nation I know has stories about its founding, of key moments that proved decisive. But why remember those events? What power do such events have for those who are living hundreds of years later? Such stories place claims upon people, and they provide a framework that interprets reality and continues to shape reality in profound ways.
So what kind of story is being communicated in Psalm 111, and to what end? Although the redemption from Egypt and the giving of the law are rarely combined in this fashion in the Old Testament, the mention of these acts together here invites us into a certain knowledge about God. This God is the God who has called out his people, saved them, and redeemed them. But their identity is not simply rooted in a past event. The story continues. Through the giving of the law, God provides a way for each generation to live into their identity as the people of God. These laws provide a framework that interprets reality for the people of God—even more, it helps to shape reality. But this shaping does not happen by accident. We must choose to live into the ways of God in faithfulness and uprightness (v. 8), and we must choose to “follow his precepts” (v.10).
The works of God call us, even now, to root our lives in the story of God and in the values and commitments expressed in his word. There is no hint of legalism in this kind of commitment to the work and word of God; rather, such a life reflects a proper “fear of the LORD” (v. 10).
Original Meaning
The Works of God in History (111:3–6)
GLORIOUS AND MAJESTIC ARE HIS DEEDS. The phrase “glorious and majestic” occurs elsewhere in the book of Psalms (cf. Pss 21:5; 96:6; 104:1; 145:5), with the two terms typically functioning as a hendiadys. They refer to the royal attributes of the Divine King. In this instance, however, the usage differs somewhat because the two terms modify the work or “deeds” (po‘al) of the Divine King. These deeds represent the righteousness of God, which will stand forever (Ps 111:3). The word for righteousness (tsedaqot) signals the “giving and establishment of a life-sustaining world order and social order.”5
Thus verse 3 functions as an introduction to the first major section in the psalm. Through its language the verse invokes the image of Yahweh as Divine King while in verses 4–6 describe the works as constitutive of a life-sustaining world established by God.
He has caused his wonders to be remembered. The next three verses provide an abbreviated rehearsal of the central works of God in Israel’s history. In verse 4 the psalmist refers to the “wonders” (nipla’ot) that God caused to be remembered. While the term nipla’ot contributes to the larger thematic thread in Psalm 111 concerning the works of the Lord, the term appears elsewhere in the Old Testament with specific reference to the exodus (cf. Exod 3:20; 34:10; Pss 78:4; 105:5; 106:22; 136:4). The Hebrew in verse 4 reads, “he has made a memorial [or ‘a commemoration’] for his deeds.” In other words, these saving deeds cannot be forgotten because Yahweh has established that they be remembered. Hans-Joachim Kraus explains the significance of this claim by suggesting that “worship is not a matter of human remembering, but of God’s founding.”6
The references to the central works of God continue in Psalm 111:4b with the claim that Yahweh is both “gracious and compassionate.” The two terms appear in Exodus 34:6 in a grand statement of self-disclosure by Yahweh following the golden calf incident. The works or deeds of Yahweh are more than impressive demonstrations of divine power; they are in fact evidence that Yahweh is the God he claims to be—the God of the covenant who is “compassionate and gracious . . ., slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness” (Exod 34:6).
Verses 5 and 6 recount two subsequent scenes in the history of God’s dealing with his people. The mention of “food” in verse 5 recalls God’s provision of quail and manna in the wilderness.7
In verse 6 the psalmist refers to the “power of his works.” That the word “power” (koah) can be found in Exodus 9:16 and 15:6 once again reminds those who pray this psalm of the Divine King, the one with power, who acted in their behalf by bringing them out of slavery and “giving them the lands of other nations” (Ps 111:6b). Erhard Gerstenberger notes that verse 6 stands in the very center of the psalm, with ten lines of poetry appearing before and after this verse. According to Gerstenberger, this positioning of verse 6 implies that “the celebration of Yahweh’s power and glory revolves around the gift of the (holy) land.”8
Whether verse 6 actually functions as the center of the psalm is difficult to determine, but Gerstenberger is correct to note the significance of that theme, particularly given the imperial constraints under which those in Yehud (i.e., Judah) lived during the postexilic period.
Bridging Contexts
CONFESSING GOD. In the opening line of Psalm 111 the psalmist announces that he will confess the Lord with all of his heart. Perhaps because it is the opening line of the psalm, the reader may simply pass over such a comment in order to move to what may be perceived as “weightier matters.” But in making such a move the reader misses the significance of the opening claim: confession and testimony are central to the community of God’s people (v. 1b). This significance is not only true of Psalm 111 but is equally true elsewhere in the Psalter. Other psalmists frequently recount the “works of God,” or the “deeds of God,” and promise to yadah (“praise” or “confess”)—to make those deeds known in the congregation or to all people.13
These confessions function didactically in that they shape and inform those who hear them.
The connection between the works of God and confession was not lost on the New Testament writers either. The New Testament includes a number of texts aptly labeled “christological hymns.” These hymns recounted the works of God in and through Jesus Christ (e.g., Phil 2:5–11; Col 1:15–20); they were “reflexive and expressive of gratitude to God for all he had done for the world’s reconciliation and the church’s salvation.”14
But these texts were much more than recitals of history. Similar to Psalm 111, these texts were not to God, but about God and God’s way in the world; they were confessions in the truest sense of the word. As these texts were read, heard, and confessed, they shaped the theology of a formative Christian community seeking to maintain its identity amid a world of competing ideas and religious claims.
The Hebrew Psalter was likely compiled in the postexilic period under Persian rule, or perhaps even later; it was a time in which the Jewish community in Yehud (i.e., Judah) sought to maintain its identity amid a world of competing ideas. In response to that need, the psalmist makes a confession of praise. The psalm merges hymnology and theology, poetry and confession, thus drawing together the chief theological traditions in Israel’s history in didactic praise of their God.
The Work(s) of God. From beginning to end, Psalm 111 remains focused on the “works of God,” here interpreted as the deliverance from Egypt and the establishment of God’s law. These two works, however, have a singular focus: the faithfulness of God in the creation of his people. The fidelity of God to humanity, which is reflected throughout all Scripture, and more narrowly identified in these two great works of God in Psalm 111, creates the ground for our theological claims about God. Harry Nasuti has observed that in the book of Psalms we rarely find a description of God that is in isolation from the world.15
God can be described only as God is known in the world. Psalms that have a wisdom bent frequently explore God and God’s ways in the world with humanity. Rolf Jacobson contends that wisdom psalms typically “rest at the intersection between communal experience and testimony regarding the Lord’s fidelity.”16
Because this connection between experience and testimony is so vital, the psalmist calls the people of God to ponder, study, and delight in the stories of God’s faithful work for and in relationship with his people.
Although the allusions to the exodus and the wandering period in Psalm 111 are not overt, they are certainly present, as indicated above. The events of the exodus and the giving of the land represented the creation of God’s people formally. The significance of these events for the subsequent biblical tradition cannot be underestimated. The fact that the exodus tradition appears in various genres of exilic and postexilic texts suggests that this singular event represented a foundational moment in Israel’s history. Consequently, the foundational moment became a cipher for the moment when deliverance and fidelity converged. Out of God’s fidelity, Israel was delivered. This convergence of fidelity and deliverance yielded important theological claims about God, and these claims shaped (and continue to shape) the identity of those who prayed these psalms. The psalmist’s claim is straightforward: The work of God then, at that moment, remains the hope of the people now. Those who were living in the aftermath of the exile were reminded that they too were the people of God; that story was their story, that deliverance, theirs. There was, once again, reason to lift their voice in praise and confession (v. 1).
The psalmist mentions the law as the second “work of God.” Although the giving of the law occurred in association with the deliverance from Egypt, the emphasis in Psalm 111 is not on the process of giving the torah to his people, it is on torah itself (cf. vv. 7b, 8a, and 9b). The psalm juxtaposes salvation history (i.e., deliverance from Egypt) with covenantal instruction—and considers both of them the work of God. While the first work created a people, the second work offered the means to shape a people. In the exilic and postexilic period, torah obedience became a central marker in identifying those who sought to live in fidelity to God. In Isaiah 56:6, for example, God announces who will be identified as his people: “all who keep the Sabbath . . . and who hold fast to my covenant.” The emphasis on torah obedience during this period should not be construed as legalism but, instead, understood as a response of fidelity to an ever-faithful God who created his people and sustains them by his word.
Contemporary Significance
AS NOTED ABOVE, Psalm 111 is an acrostic. Throughout the psalm, from beginning to end, from aleph to tav, the psalmist repeatedly makes theological claims about God. These claims, however, are rooted in God’s story with Israel and, in turn, make certain claims upon God’s people both then and now. In his classic work After Virtue, Alasdair MacIntyre wrote, “I can only answer the question ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question: ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’ ”17
MacIntyre understands well the power of story. Stories have the capacity to root ourselves into something that is much bigger than any one individual. For example, most every nation I know has stories about its founding, of key moments that proved decisive. But why remember those events? What power do such events have for those who are living hundreds of years later? Such stories place claims upon people, and they provide a framework that interprets reality and continues to shape reality in profound ways.
So what kind of story is being communicated in Psalm 111, and to what end? Although the redemption from Egypt and the giving of the law are rarely combined in this fashion in the Old Testament, the mention of these acts together here invites us into a certain knowledge about God. This God is the God who has called out his people, saved them, and redeemed them. But their identity is not simply rooted in a past event. The story continues. Through the giving of the law, God provides a way for each generation to live into their identity as the people of God. These laws provide a framework that interprets reality for the people of God—even more, it helps to shape reality. But this shaping does not happen by accident. We must choose to live into the ways of God in faithfulness and uprightness (v. 8), and we must choose to “follow his precepts” (v.10).
The works of God call us, even now, to root our lives in the story of God and in the values and commitments expressed in his word. There is no hint of legalism in this kind of commitment to the work and word of God; rather, such a life reflects a proper “fear of the LORD” (v. 10).
Original Meaning
The Torah as the Work of God (111:7–10)
FOLLOWING THE REHEARSAL OF GOD’S WORK in Israel’s history, the psalmist shifts the focus of the psalm. While maintaining the larger theme of the works of God, the poet introduces the theme of torah as the work of God.
All his precepts are trustworthy. Verse 7a announces that the “works of his hands are faithful and just.” The mention of the “works” of God in verse 7a echoes the references to the works and deeds of God in verses 3a, 4a, and 6a, thus leading some to consider verse 7a as the concluding line to the first section (vv. 3–6). But the second line in verse 7 redirects the reader’s attention to God’s covenant law. As Clinton McCann has suggested, verse 7a likely serves as an intentional transition linking the “saving works of God and God’s works that take the form of instruction.”9
In verse 7b the word “precepts” (piqudim) functions as a synonym for torah (cf. Pss 19:9; 103:18 and throughout Ps 119). In Hebrew the verse has a chiastic structure, thus making the connection between “works of his hands” and the precepts of God even more apparent.
| A |
B |
| The works of his hands |
are faithful and just; |
| B’ |
A’ |
| trustworthy |
are all his precepts. |
The precepts of God are reliable—they can be trusted—because they introduce a world filled with faithfulness and justice. Even as the works of God in Israel’s history demonstrated the faithfulness and justice of God, so too the precepts of God are reliable in carrying out the will and ways of God in the world. Yet for this working out of God’s will to occur, these precepts must be “enacted in faithfulness and uprightness” (Ps 111:8).10
In verse 2 the psalmist called for the works of God to be studied, to be pondered, but in verse 8 he calls for the people to move from reflection to action, from observation to implementation.
He provided redemption for his people. The word “redemption” (pedut) calls to mind more generally the notion of redemption from slavery, in this instance, Israel’s redemption from slavery in Egypt. The first section of the psalm (vv. 3–6) recounted the exodus, Israel’s deliverance out of the land of Egypt, and into the land that was Israel’s inheritance. Verses 7–9 press further by introducing the covenant of the Lord, thus suggesting that redemption culminates in the covenant he has ordained (v. 9b). Even as deliverance from Egypt signaled God’s love for and commitment to his people, the covenant represents the same. The work of God’s hands reflects his design for his people and the world in which they live.
Verse 9c concludes by affirming that God’s name is “holy and awesome.” The latter term comes from the root yr’, “to fear” or “to hold in reverence.” The first two lines in verse 9 are in the perfect, or qatal, form in Hebrew, which usually refers to a past action (i.e., God sent redemption and God ordained his covenant). In the final line of verse 9, however, the verse is verbless: “holy and awesome [is] his name.” The verbless clause helps to define who God is, then and now. What has happened in the past is because of who God is—the one who is holy and awesome—and what has happened in the past should draw the community into proper worship of the Divine King, even now.11
The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom. The opening line of verse 10 invokes a verse found elsewhere in wisdom literature (Prov 1:7; 9:10; Job 28:28). While it may be possible that the psalmist simply included the wisdom saying here because the acrostic required a word that begins with the letter “r” (the line opening in Hebrew is the word reshit, “beginning”), its placement in the final verse of the psalm appears more significant. The wisdom saying provides a theological lens through which to interpret the entire psalm.
For this psalmist, the fear of the Lord is connected to living out the torah of God. In Psalm 111:10b the text reads literally, “good [sekel] [is] to all those who do them.” The word sekel can mean “understanding,” but the term can also refer to reward or success. Hossfeld and Zenger note that the wisdom tradition frequently highlights the cause-and-effect relationship: correct actions lead to beneficial gain. Such an understanding of sekel might suggest that a “good reward” is the preferable interpretation.12
Understood in this way, verse 9b would indicate that if one carries out the precepts of God, then there will be a reward (cf. Prov 3:4); they will be rewarded with insight and understanding.
Bridging Contexts
CONFESSING GOD. In the opening line of Psalm 111 the psalmist announces that he will confess the Lord with all of his heart. Perhaps because it is the opening line of the psalm, the reader may simply pass over such a comment in order to move to what may be perceived as “weightier matters.” But in making such a move the reader misses the significance of the opening claim: confession and testimony are central to the community of God’s people (v. 1b). This significance is not only true of Psalm 111 but is equally true elsewhere in the Psalter. Other psalmists frequently recount the “works of God,” or the “deeds of God,” and promise to yadah (“praise” or “confess”)—to make those deeds known in the congregation or to all people.13
These confessions function didactically in that they shape and inform those who hear them.
The connection between the works of God and confession was not lost on the New Testament writers either. The New Testament includes a number of texts aptly labeled “christological hymns.” These hymns recounted the works of God in and through Jesus Christ (e.g., Phil 2:5–11; Col 1:15–20); they were “reflexive and expressive of gratitude to God for all he had done for the world’s reconciliation and the church’s salvation.”14
But these texts were much more than recitals of history. Similar to Psalm 111, these texts were not to God, but about God and God’s way in the world; they were confessions in the truest sense of the word. As these texts were read, heard, and confessed, they shaped the theology of a formative Christian community seeking to maintain its identity amid a world of competing ideas and religious claims.
The Hebrew Psalter was likely compiled in the postexilic period under Persian rule, or perhaps even later; it was a time in which the Jewish community in Yehud (i.e., Judah) sought to maintain its identity amid a world of competing ideas. In response to that need, the psalmist makes a confession of praise. The psalm merges hymnology and theology, poetry and confession, thus drawing together the chief theological traditions in Israel’s history in didactic praise of their God.
The Work(s) of God. From beginning to end, Psalm 111 remains focused on the “works of God,” here interpreted as the deliverance from Egypt and the establishment of God’s law. These two works, however, have a singular focus: the faithfulness of God in the creation of his people. The fidelity of God to humanity, which is reflected throughout all Scripture, and more narrowly identified in these two great works of God in Psalm 111, creates the ground for our theological claims about God. Harry Nasuti has observed that in the book of Psalms we rarely find a description of God that is in isolation from the world.15
God can be described only as God is known in the world. Psalms that have a wisdom bent frequently explore God and God’s ways in the world with humanity. Rolf Jacobson contends that wisdom psalms typically “rest at the intersection between communal experience and testimony regarding the Lord’s fidelity.”16
Because this connection between experience and testimony is so vital, the psalmist calls the people of God to ponder, study, and delight in the stories of God’s faithful work for and in relationship with his people.
Although the allusions to the exodus and the wandering period in Psalm 111 are not overt, they are certainly present, as indicated above. The events of the exodus and the giving of the land represented the creation of God’s people formally. The significance of these events for the subsequent biblical tradition cannot be underestimated. The fact that the exodus tradition appears in various genres of exilic and postexilic texts suggests that this singular event represented a foundational moment in Israel’s history. Consequently, the foundational moment became a cipher for the moment when deliverance and fidelity converged. Out of God’s fidelity, Israel was delivered. This convergence of fidelity and deliverance yielded important theological claims about God, and these claims shaped (and continue to shape) the identity of those who prayed these psalms. The psalmist’s claim is straightforward: The work of God then, at that moment, remains the hope of the people now. Those who were living in the aftermath of the exile were reminded that they too were the people of God; that story was their story, that deliverance, theirs. There was, once again, reason to lift their voice in praise and confession (v. 1).
The psalmist mentions the law as the second “work of God.” Although the giving of the law occurred in association with the deliverance from Egypt, the emphasis in Psalm 111 is not on the process of giving the torah to his people, it is on torah itself (cf. vv. 7b, 8a, and 9b). The psalm juxtaposes salvation history (i.e., deliverance from Egypt) with covenantal instruction—and considers both of them the work of God. While the first work created a people, the second work offered the means to shape a people. In the exilic and postexilic period, torah obedience became a central marker in identifying those who sought to live in fidelity to God. In Isaiah 56:6, for example, God announces who will be identified as his people: “all who keep the Sabbath . . . and who hold fast to my covenant.” The emphasis on torah obedience during this period should not be construed as legalism but, instead, understood as a response of fidelity to an ever-faithful God who created his people and sustains them by his word.
Contemporary Significance
AS NOTED ABOVE, Psalm 111 is an acrostic. Throughout the psalm, from beginning to end, from aleph to tav, the psalmist repeatedly makes theological claims about God. These claims, however, are rooted in God’s story with Israel and, in turn, make certain claims upon God’s people both then and now. In his classic work After Virtue, Alasdair MacIntyre wrote, “I can only answer the question ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question: ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’ ”17
MacIntyre understands well the power of story. Stories have the capacity to root ourselves into something that is much bigger than any one individual. For example, most every nation I know has stories about its founding, of key moments that proved decisive. But why remember those events? What power do such events have for those who are living hundreds of years later? Such stories place claims upon people, and they provide a framework that interprets reality and continues to shape reality in profound ways.
So what kind of story is being communicated in Psalm 111, and to what end? Although the redemption from Egypt and the giving of the law are rarely combined in this fashion in the Old Testament, the mention of these acts together here invites us into a certain knowledge about God. This God is the God who has called out his people, saved them, and redeemed them. But their identity is not simply rooted in a past event. The story continues. Through the giving of the law, God provides a way for each generation to live into their identity as the people of God. These laws provide a framework that interprets reality for the people of God—even more, it helps to shape reality. But this shaping does not happen by accident. We must choose to live into the ways of God in faithfulness and uprightness (v. 8), and we must choose to “follow his precepts” (v.10).
The works of God call us, even now, to root our lives in the story of God and in the values and commitments expressed in his word. There is no hint of legalism in this kind of commitment to the work and word of God; rather, such a life reflects a proper “fear of the LORD” (v. 10).
