Original Meaning
Call to Thank God (118:1–4)
THE PSALMIST OPENS BY INTRODUCING the principle theme for the psalm: “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.” Verse 1 is identical to the opening verse in Psalms 106:1, 107:1, and 136:1. The repeated use of this language in the introductory verse of all four psalms is likely not accidental and appears to signal a compositional arc that connects all four psalms.6
The verb hodu, “give thanks,” appears in verse 1 and is repeated in verses 19, 21, 28, and 29. Thus the psalm opens with a call to give thanks and closes with a fourfold use of the term in the final section.
Give thanks. The NIV translates hodu as “give thanks,” and Hossfeld and Zenger render the term the same way, given the nature of the psalm itself and the toda (thanksgiving) liturgy that appears later in the psalm (vv. 19–28). As noted earlier regarding Psalm 111, Goldingay argues that the term is better rendered “confess.” The Septuagint translates hodu as exomologeisthe, which can mean “confess” or “profess,” in the sense of praise. Thus, the opening verse in Psalm 118 calls the people to do more than simply have a thankful attitude; their giving thanks carries with it the sense of giving testimony about Yahweh’s goodness and steadfast love.
His love endures forever. Verses 2–4 contain a short litany in which the psalmist invites Israel, the house of Aaron, and those who fear God to make a confession: “his love endures forever.” On the identity of those groups, see the commentary on Psalm 115:9–11.
Bridging Contexts
THE DELIVERANCE OF THE LORD. As noted in the exegetical treatment above, the psalmist repeatedly alludes to Yahweh’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The Song of the Sea in Exodus 15 is a poetic remembrance of that deliverance and fertile soil for the poetic reflections of the later psalmist. The opening and closing lines of Psalm 118 refer to the hesed (“steadfast love”) of Yahweh, as does the repeated refrain in verses 2–4. In Exodus 15:13, it is because of God’s hesed that Israel will be guided into God’s presence, even as the psalmist is brought into God’s presence in Psalm 118:19–21. Both the Song of the Sea and Psalm 118 acknowledge the power of the nations, but both songs assuredly assert that even such nations can be overcome through the power of Israel’s God (Exod 15:14–15; Ps 118:10–12). In addition to the textual relationship evidenced in these references, the connection between the two poetic texts appears elsewhere in Psalm 118. In verse 14 the psalmist quotes directly from Exodus 15:2a, and later in Psalm 118 (v. 28) Exodus 15:2b is recalled. The repeated references to the right hand of the Lord in Psalm 118 recall similar language in the exodus event (cf. Exod 15:6, 12). The psalmist may have also been aware of the verses just prior to the Song of the Sea (Exod 14:30–31), given the shared vocabulary between those verses and Psalm 118.29
With the repeated references and allusions to Exodus 15, the writer of Psalm 118 does much more than simply use “cut-and-paste” language, imagery, and thought from a previous poetic text in Israel’s tradition; rather, the psalmist makes a critical theological move—one that speaks to the identity of God and the hope of his people. Psalm 118 is a song of thanksgiving. The bulk of the poem (vv. 5–18) focuses on God’s deliverance of the psalmist. This portion of the psalm illustrates above all God’s hesed, his faithful love for the people of God. God’s hesed, which was on display at the Red Sea (Exod 14–15), is likewise on display in the life of this psalmist. By the nature of the faithful love of God, his deliverance is not whimsical or arbitrary, but constant. The God who delivered the Israelites from the Egyptians is the same God who delivered the psalmist from the nations (Ps 118:10–12). Because of this kind of faithful love on God’s part, the psalmist confesses that it is better to take refuge in the Lord than in any human deliverer.
While the first half of Psalm 118 confesses that in the past God has proven his faithfulness as refuge and deliverer, the second half of the psalm suggests that such knowledge leads to hope. In verse 25 (as translated above), the community confesses the plea, “Please, O LORD, save us, we beg! Please, O LORD, make us prosper, we beg!” The people of God plead for deliverance not because this God is their last and only hope but because this God has proven faithful from generation to generation. Put otherwise, their hope is grounded in the witness of God’s consistent desire to deliver his people. The community in Psalm 118 turns to God (v. 18) because they know of his faithful acts in the past to deliver his people, and they trust that his faithful love will extend to them even now. In the New Testament Paul reminds those at Ephesus of this God who faithfully loves his people and seeks to deliver them: “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions” (Eph 2:4–5). The faithful love of God, seen throughout the pages of the Old Testament but made most manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, assures us that this God has loved us with a great love and continues to demonstrate that love as he makes us “alive with Christ.”
Psalm 118 in the New Testament. The New Testament writers made considerable use of the language and imagery of Psalm 118 as “a means of understanding and articulating the significance of Jesus.”30
Given that Psalm 118 celebrated the faithful love (hesed) of God to deliver his people, it is not surprising that the psalm was frequently cited in the New Testament. Among the uses of Psalm 118 in the New Testament, all four Gospels cite its verse 26 and declare that Jesus is the one “who comes in the name of the Lord” (Matt 21:9; Mark 11:9–10; Luke 19:38; John 12:13). In each instance the citation occurs in the context of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. As suggested above, the verse in its original context refers to the person who enters the temple precinct to worship God. Given that Psalm 118 is often labeled a royal psalm, some readers assume that the person mentioned in 118:26 is a king. In the passion narratives, the Gospel writers make a similar connection and declare that Jesus comes into Jerusalem as a king (e.g., Matt 21:5) and, consequently, is the long-awaited one “who comes in the name of the LORD.”31
In Mark, Matthew, and John, the announcement that Jesus comes in the name of the Lord is preceded by the shout, “Hosanna.” That word is also derived from Psalm 118 (v. 25), where the people pray, “Save us” (hoshi‘ah na). Although many interpreters suggest that the word “hosanna” had morphed in meaning and likely was used as a cry or exclamation of praise, it might be possible that the Gospel writers intended the word as a double entendre. Indeed, the crowds shouted in praise as Jesus, the Messiah-King, made his way into Jerusalem, but even in the exclamation itself they were declaring this king’s purpose.
In the parable of the tenants (Matt 21:33–46; Mark 12:1–12; Luke 20:9–19), Psalm 118:22–23 (“the stone the builders rejected”) functions as the interpretive key. Jesus weaves the story of a man who plants a vineyard and rents it to some farmers. The farmer sends a number of servants to the tenants, but each one is killed. In a final act the farmer sends his son, but he too meets with the same fate. Jesus refers to the fate of the son in the parable, and by extension his own fate, in the light of Psalm 118. Jesus is the stone the builders rejected—even as the tenants exercised their rejection—but the rejected stone will become the chief cornerstone. James Mays notes that Psalm 118 furnished “a scriptural warrant for taking the very rejection of Jesus as a moment of messianic disclosure.”32
Interestingly, after referring to the rejected stone Jesus cites Psalm 118:23, “the LORD has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes.” The purpose is clear. The New Testament writers wanted to affirm that the establishment of the crucified Lord as the cornerstone had nothing to do with the work of humans; rather “the LORD has done this.” And “this” was not a messianic plan gone awry—it was the very work of the living God.
Contemporary Significance
THANKSGIVING. Psalm 118 invites the reader to two acts of spiritual formation. The first is an act of praise comprised of recitation—the heart of thanksgiving. At times thanksgiving has been reduced simply to the act of saying “thank you.” As such, the expression is merely the final statement made in a series of exchanges between two or more parties. For example, you enter a store to make a purchase. The salesperson rings up the purchase and you slide your card through the card reader. The salesperson punches a few keys on the computer, hands you a receipt, and says “thank you.” He hands you your purchase and you reply “thank you” in return. Such exchanges are perfunctory; they are statements of common courtesy made with little thought and likely no real sense of gratitude.
The lengthy recitation in Psalm 118:5–18, however, poses a different model for thanksgiving. Had the psalmist sought brevity, he could simply have said, “I was in trouble. God delivered me. Thanks be to God.” But such a statement reduces what happened to a transaction, at best. Yet the psalmist opted to recount at length the depths of his trouble and the reality of his helplessness. In this section of the psalm such images are juxtaposed with God’s intervention in the psalmist’s life. Rather than simply offering a perfunctory “thank you” to God, we also might do well to describe the depths of our own trouble and the reality of our own helplessness. Perhaps we are too self-reliant and too ashamed of our inability to save ourselves, but when we confess the depths of our need, we are confronted above all with our need for God. As we make this recitation-turned-confession, we are also reminded of the greatness of God’s deliverance. It is in those moments that we may find ourselves overwhelmed with a sense of true thanksgiving.
God’s narrative. Our narrative. The reality of biblical illiteracy, both in our larger society and in our congregations, has been well documented. In a blog post for Christianity Today, Ed Stetzer labeled such illiteracy an “epidemic” and noted that only 45 percent of those who regularly attend church read the Bible more than once a week. More than 40 percent of the people attending read their Bible occasionally—maybe once or twice a month—while almost 1 in 5 churchgoers say they never read the Bible.33
This problem is more than simply an issue of information: Does a person know who King Hezekiah was or in which testament he appeared? The real issue is more than whether we know enough to win a game in Bible trivia; rather, at its root this issue concerns our own formation, or lack thereof. In Psalm 118 the psalmist links his own narrative with God’s narrative. As suggested above in Bridging Contexts, the poet makes extensive use of Exodus 14–15, a central story in God’s narrative with his people, and he understands his deliverance as an extension of that story. His narrative has been enfolded into the larger narrative of God’s work in the world, while no doubt informing and forming his own view of his deliverance and his Deliverer.
When we make thanksgiving solely about what God has done for me and me alone, we run the risk of skewing our view of the Deliverer and jettisoning any sense of God’s greater narrative in the world. But when we understand our stories of deliverance and our reasons for thanksgiving in the light of God’s ways with those who have gone before us, we are connected to a narrative—a narrative that gives us reason for thanksgiving in the present and hope for the future.
Perhaps we need to invite those in our congregations to consider how our narrative might be enfolding into God’s greater narrative. For example, perhaps we should consider the particular ways God has been at work in our lives to demonstrate his hesed, his faithful love, in the midst of the things that press in upon us and surround us. Are there biblical stories on which we might draw to assist us in telling our own story and thereby connect us to the long narrative of God’s redemptive work in the world? In connecting our narrative with God’s narrative, we might be compelled to say to those around us: “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever”—and truly mean it.
Original Meaning
Deliverance from Peril (118:5–18)
IN THE SECOND MAJOR SECTION OF THE PSALM, the poet shifts from a call to give thanks in verses 1–4 to recounting his past deliverance. This section provides the rationale for the call to give thanks found in the opening and closing sections of the psalm. The psalmist recounts how “all the nations” had surrounded him (v. 10), but Yahweh had brought him into a “spacious place”(v. 5) and delivered him. Within this section there are two interludes (vv. 8–9, 15–16); both play a critical role in the theology of the section. The first interlude makes use of language from the wisdom tradition, while the second one invokes imagery associated with the exodus.
Spacious Place. The psalmist explains that he was “hard pressed” (hammetsar). The word hammetsar comes from the root tsrr, which in the intransitive sense means “to be narrow” and in the transitive, “to tie up.” The nominative forms of the root suggest “narrowness, constriction, physical and/or mental claustrophobia,” idiomatically rendered quite often as “distress” in some translations (e.g., NRSV).7
The person feels a sense of distress from feeling hemmed in and constrained by circumstances beyond his or her control. The theme of narrowness, or of being constrained and confined, appears repeatedly in the psalm and serves as the dominant metaphorical image for the plight faced by the psalmist (cf. vv. 10–12).
A more literal understanding of the word hammetsar makes the parallel construction more apparent in the verse. The sense of confinement and constraint mentioned in verse 5a is placed in antithetical construction to God’s work of bringing the psalmist into an open place (merhab). Because of God’s work, the psalmist has moved from narrowness to wideness. Søren Holst argues that salvation and deliverance are frequently construed by terms related to wide open places. The dominant terms employed in this connection are verbal forms related to the root rhb and the nominal form merhab (as used in v. 5b). As Holst contends, these two conceptual metaphors, narrowness (hammetsar) and wideness (merhab), create an even larger “motif cluster” that he terms “narrowness-as-problem” and “wideness-as-solution.”8
Verse 5 contains both motifs, narrowness (“hard pressed,” NIV) and wideness (“spacious place”), signaling both the psalmist’s dilemma and God’s deliverance.
In verses 6–7 the psalmist acknowledges he is not alone when he experiences distress in the face of enemies and external threats. Both verses open with the phrase, “the LORD is with me” (vv. 6a, 7a). Because Yahweh is with the psalmist, he queries, “What can mere mortals do to me?” Whatever the enemies can do to confine and constrain the psalmist, he boldly asserts that because Yahweh is “with me” those contraints will be ripped asunder and the psalmist will be led to wide open places where he can look in triumph on his enemies (v. 7b).
Take refuge in the LORD. Verses 8 and 9 function as the first interlude in the psalm. These verses are identical in form and represent what is often referred to as a “better . . . than” saying. These sayings function as proverbial statements and, not surprisingly, appear most often in the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. Goldingay has suggested that the presence of such sayings in this psalm reinforces the didactic aspect of the poem in its entirety.9
In verses 6–7 the psalmist confessed that because Yahweh was with him “mere mortals” could not harm him. Verses 8–9 extend the theme of the impotence of human power, but with a different conclusion in view. Both verses consider in whom one should take refuge and trust in the midst of challenging times. In each instance, those who hear this psalm are called to take refuge in Yahweh rather than trusting in human beings (’adam; v. 8b). This theme is extended in verse 9b by encouraging the audience not to trust in princes. Whether the psalmist is referring to foreign rulers or perhaps leaders within his own community is not entirely clear, but either way the resulting conclusion remains the same: in the midst of crisis, true security can be found only in Yahweh. No human, not even a prince with considerable power, can provide the kind of security found in Yahweh.
All the nations surrounded me. In verses 10–12 the psalmist returns his thought to the plight from which he was delivered. While individual thanksgiving psalms typically rehearse the deliverance of the psalmist from a particular threat, this psalm broadens the nature of that threat by explaining that the nations were in fact the source of the threat (vv. 10–14).10
The frequent allusions to the book of Exodus (see below) confirm the significance of the nations in this psalm. The intertextual references to exodus recall the flight out of Egypt, an enemy nation that threatened the existence of the people of God. In referring to the nations explicitly in verses 10–14 and in alluding to the nations implicitly, the psalmist creates a “world political horizon” for the psalm. The psalmist seeks to recall moments when God has delivered his people out of the hands of foreign powers.11
McCann suggests that allusions to both
the exodus and deliverance from exile served as a basis for hope that future deliverance would also occur. This gives Ps 118 an open-endedness that would have made it particularly relevant to the post-exilic era, during which the aftermath of the exile persisted and the people continued to be dominated by the nations.12
Earlier in the psalm the poet had described his deliverance with the metaphor of being brought out into an open space (v. 5). In this section he describes his predicament with more precise imagery by explaining that “all the nations” had trapped or surrounded him. In the Persian period these groups would have likely included those peoples who put pressure on Jerusalem as the Hebrews sought to rebuild the city (cf. Neh 6). The nature of the threat is reinforced with the repetition of the verb sabab (“to surround”), which appears in all three verses of Psalm 118:10–12. In verse 12 the NIV translates sabab as “swarm,” which captures well the metaphorical image in the verse; but this translation also causes the reader of the English text to miss the repetition of the verb in each verse. The psalmist laments that he was surrounded by the nations (v. 10) and that the nations surrounded him on every side (v. 11). Their presence was comparable to that of swarming bees, which surround their victim (v. 12). The image of swarming bees as a metaphor for an attacking military force is not unique to Psalm 118—compare Deuteronomy 1:44 and Isaiah 7:18.13
The image of the lone psalmist surrounded by “all the nations” creates a rather bleak picture—one that certainly appears to hint at the psalmist’s demise. Yet the threefold repetition of the verb sabab (“to surround”) is matched by the thrice repeated declaration of the psalmist that “in the name of the LORD I cut them down” (Ps 118:10b, 11b, 12c). As Hans-Joachim Kraus suggested, the “name” (shem) not only refers to the “salvific presence of Yahweh” but in many ways also functions “like a weapon, a shield, that enfolds him who is surrounded by the rage of the enemy.”14
In Isaiah, the prophet references the power of the “name” similarly. He announces the coming judgment on Assyria by proclaiming, “See, the Name of the LORD comes from afar, with burning anger and dense clouds of smoke; his lips are full of wrath and his tongue is a consuming fire” (Isa 30:27).15
The psalmist contends that in the name of the Lord he “cut down” the nations. The verb used in each of the three phrases is mul, which is normally translated “to circumcise.” Mitchell Dahood suggested that the reference to circumcision in Psalm 118:10–12 implied a militaristic context similar to the one portrayed in 1 Samuel 18:25–27.16
In that context, David killed two hundred Philistines and removed their foreskins. For Dahood, the association of circumcision with a successful military campaign against the enemies fits the overall context of Psalm 118. Of the many neighboring enemies of Israel in the Hebrew Bible, the Philistines garnered the most attention as an “uncircumcised people,” thus leading Israel in many ways to equate uncircumcision with a barbarous people. More recently, however, a second root for mul has been suggested—one meaning “to fend off.”17
The second root accords well with the image of swarming bees in verse 12 and likely functions as a homonym with the other root form of mul meaning “circumcision.” The contextual meaning of the verb in Psalm 118 involves Israel’s having fended off the enemy, but secondarily (as a homonym) was meant to evoke an association with the object of Israel’s actions, the “uncircumcised.”
In verse 13 the psalmist depicts his plight using a different image. In the previous three verses he compared his plight to being surrounded or trapped; but in verse 13 the psalmist turns to another well-used image in the Psalter to depict the nature of his threat, namely, the image of being pushed down (cf. Pss 145:14; 146:8).18
The LORD is my strength. Psalm 118:14 quotes verbatim from Exodus 15:2 to invoke the Song of Moses, which celebrates Israel’s deliverance from Egypt (Exod 15). The direct quotation in Psalm 118:14 is followed up by the second interlude in the psalm (vv. 15–16). The first interlude (vv. 8–9) exhorted the congregation to trust in Yahweh, not human beings. In the second interlude the psalmist attributes his deliverance to Yahweh alone by affirming the power of God that was on display. The thrice-repeated reference to Yahweh’s right hand in Psalm 118:15c, 16a, and 16b echoes the threefold reference to Yahweh’s right hand in Exodus 15 (vv. 6a, 6b, 12).19
The right hand of God on display in the exodus has been revealed again in the life of the psalmist and, by extension, the life of the congregation.
The LORD has chastened me severely. The lengthy section in verses 5–18 closes with a theological assessment of the threat posed to the psalmist but matched by God’s deliverance. Hans-Joachim Kraus terms this a “theocentric understanding of suffering.”20
The psalmist understands his previous situation to be one of divine chastisement. The verb yassar can mean “to discipline” or “to chastise” and often has an educative connotation. The piel form of the verb (as seen in Ps 118) can also mean “to teach” or “to bring up” (Deut 8:4; Prov 31:1; Job 4:3). The use of the verb in Psalm 118 more nearly resembles the nuance expressed in the book of Jeremiah. According to Jeremiah, the Babylonian invasion was chastisement executed by Yahweh (Jer 2:30; 5:3; 30:11; 31:18), a view seen across the prophetic corpus and throughout the Deuteronomistic History as well. In Psalm 118:18b the psalmist confesses that divine chastisement was not the final word; Yahweh did not hand him over to death. (See also the claims made in verse 17.)
Bridging Contexts
THE DELIVERANCE OF THE LORD. As noted in the exegetical treatment above, the psalmist repeatedly alludes to Yahweh’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The Song of the Sea in Exodus 15 is a poetic remembrance of that deliverance and fertile soil for the poetic reflections of the later psalmist. The opening and closing lines of Psalm 118 refer to the hesed (“steadfast love”) of Yahweh, as does the repeated refrain in verses 2–4. In Exodus 15:13, it is because of God’s hesed that Israel will be guided into God’s presence, even as the psalmist is brought into God’s presence in Psalm 118:19–21. Both the Song of the Sea and Psalm 118 acknowledge the power of the nations, but both songs assuredly assert that even such nations can be overcome through the power of Israel’s God (Exod 15:14–15; Ps 118:10–12). In addition to the textual relationship evidenced in these references, the connection between the two poetic texts appears elsewhere in Psalm 118. In verse 14 the psalmist quotes directly from Exodus 15:2a, and later in Psalm 118 (v. 28) Exodus 15:2b is recalled. The repeated references to the right hand of the Lord in Psalm 118 recall similar language in the exodus event (cf. Exod 15:6, 12). The psalmist may have also been aware of the verses just prior to the Song of the Sea (Exod 14:30–31), given the shared vocabulary between those verses and Psalm 118.29
With the repeated references and allusions to Exodus 15, the writer of Psalm 118 does much more than simply use “cut-and-paste” language, imagery, and thought from a previous poetic text in Israel’s tradition; rather, the psalmist makes a critical theological move—one that speaks to the identity of God and the hope of his people. Psalm 118 is a song of thanksgiving. The bulk of the poem (vv. 5–18) focuses on God’s deliverance of the psalmist. This portion of the psalm illustrates above all God’s hesed, his faithful love for the people of God. God’s hesed, which was on display at the Red Sea (Exod 14–15), is likewise on display in the life of this psalmist. By the nature of the faithful love of God, his deliverance is not whimsical or arbitrary, but constant. The God who delivered the Israelites from the Egyptians is the same God who delivered the psalmist from the nations (Ps 118:10–12). Because of this kind of faithful love on God’s part, the psalmist confesses that it is better to take refuge in the Lord than in any human deliverer.
While the first half of Psalm 118 confesses that in the past God has proven his faithfulness as refuge and deliverer, the second half of the psalm suggests that such knowledge leads to hope. In verse 25 (as translated above), the community confesses the plea, “Please, O LORD, save us, we beg! Please, O LORD, make us prosper, we beg!” The people of God plead for deliverance not because this God is their last and only hope but because this God has proven faithful from generation to generation. Put otherwise, their hope is grounded in the witness of God’s consistent desire to deliver his people. The community in Psalm 118 turns to God (v. 18) because they know of his faithful acts in the past to deliver his people, and they trust that his faithful love will extend to them even now. In the New Testament Paul reminds those at Ephesus of this God who faithfully loves his people and seeks to deliver them: “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions” (Eph 2:4–5). The faithful love of God, seen throughout the pages of the Old Testament but made most manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, assures us that this God has loved us with a great love and continues to demonstrate that love as he makes us “alive with Christ.”
Psalm 118 in the New Testament. The New Testament writers made considerable use of the language and imagery of Psalm 118 as “a means of understanding and articulating the significance of Jesus.”30
Given that Psalm 118 celebrated the faithful love (hesed) of God to deliver his people, it is not surprising that the psalm was frequently cited in the New Testament. Among the uses of Psalm 118 in the New Testament, all four Gospels cite its verse 26 and declare that Jesus is the one “who comes in the name of the Lord” (Matt 21:9; Mark 11:9–10; Luke 19:38; John 12:13). In each instance the citation occurs in the context of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. As suggested above, the verse in its original context refers to the person who enters the temple precinct to worship God. Given that Psalm 118 is often labeled a royal psalm, some readers assume that the person mentioned in 118:26 is a king. In the passion narratives, the Gospel writers make a similar connection and declare that Jesus comes into Jerusalem as a king (e.g., Matt 21:5) and, consequently, is the long-awaited one “who comes in the name of the LORD.”31
In Mark, Matthew, and John, the announcement that Jesus comes in the name of the Lord is preceded by the shout, “Hosanna.” That word is also derived from Psalm 118 (v. 25), where the people pray, “Save us” (hoshi‘ah na). Although many interpreters suggest that the word “hosanna” had morphed in meaning and likely was used as a cry or exclamation of praise, it might be possible that the Gospel writers intended the word as a double entendre. Indeed, the crowds shouted in praise as Jesus, the Messiah-King, made his way into Jerusalem, but even in the exclamation itself they were declaring this king’s purpose.
In the parable of the tenants (Matt 21:33–46; Mark 12:1–12; Luke 20:9–19), Psalm 118:22–23 (“the stone the builders rejected”) functions as the interpretive key. Jesus weaves the story of a man who plants a vineyard and rents it to some farmers. The farmer sends a number of servants to the tenants, but each one is killed. In a final act the farmer sends his son, but he too meets with the same fate. Jesus refers to the fate of the son in the parable, and by extension his own fate, in the light of Psalm 118. Jesus is the stone the builders rejected—even as the tenants exercised their rejection—but the rejected stone will become the chief cornerstone. James Mays notes that Psalm 118 furnished “a scriptural warrant for taking the very rejection of Jesus as a moment of messianic disclosure.”32
Interestingly, after referring to the rejected stone Jesus cites Psalm 118:23, “the LORD has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes.” The purpose is clear. The New Testament writers wanted to affirm that the establishment of the crucified Lord as the cornerstone had nothing to do with the work of humans; rather “the LORD has done this.” And “this” was not a messianic plan gone awry—it was the very work of the living God.
Contemporary Significance
THANKSGIVING. Psalm 118 invites the reader to two acts of spiritual formation. The first is an act of praise comprised of recitation—the heart of thanksgiving. At times thanksgiving has been reduced simply to the act of saying “thank you.” As such, the expression is merely the final statement made in a series of exchanges between two or more parties. For example, you enter a store to make a purchase. The salesperson rings up the purchase and you slide your card through the card reader. The salesperson punches a few keys on the computer, hands you a receipt, and says “thank you.” He hands you your purchase and you reply “thank you” in return. Such exchanges are perfunctory; they are statements of common courtesy made with little thought and likely no real sense of gratitude.
The lengthy recitation in Psalm 118:5–18, however, poses a different model for thanksgiving. Had the psalmist sought brevity, he could simply have said, “I was in trouble. God delivered me. Thanks be to God.” But such a statement reduces what happened to a transaction, at best. Yet the psalmist opted to recount at length the depths of his trouble and the reality of his helplessness. In this section of the psalm such images are juxtaposed with God’s intervention in the psalmist’s life. Rather than simply offering a perfunctory “thank you” to God, we also might do well to describe the depths of our own trouble and the reality of our own helplessness. Perhaps we are too self-reliant and too ashamed of our inability to save ourselves, but when we confess the depths of our need, we are confronted above all with our need for God. As we make this recitation-turned-confession, we are also reminded of the greatness of God’s deliverance. It is in those moments that we may find ourselves overwhelmed with a sense of true thanksgiving.
God’s narrative. Our narrative. The reality of biblical illiteracy, both in our larger society and in our congregations, has been well documented. In a blog post for Christianity Today, Ed Stetzer labeled such illiteracy an “epidemic” and noted that only 45 percent of those who regularly attend church read the Bible more than once a week. More than 40 percent of the people attending read their Bible occasionally—maybe once or twice a month—while almost 1 in 5 churchgoers say they never read the Bible.33
This problem is more than simply an issue of information: Does a person know who King Hezekiah was or in which testament he appeared? The real issue is more than whether we know enough to win a game in Bible trivia; rather, at its root this issue concerns our own formation, or lack thereof. In Psalm 118 the psalmist links his own narrative with God’s narrative. As suggested above in Bridging Contexts, the poet makes extensive use of Exodus 14–15, a central story in God’s narrative with his people, and he understands his deliverance as an extension of that story. His narrative has been enfolded into the larger narrative of God’s work in the world, while no doubt informing and forming his own view of his deliverance and his Deliverer.
When we make thanksgiving solely about what God has done for me and me alone, we run the risk of skewing our view of the Deliverer and jettisoning any sense of God’s greater narrative in the world. But when we understand our stories of deliverance and our reasons for thanksgiving in the light of God’s ways with those who have gone before us, we are connected to a narrative—a narrative that gives us reason for thanksgiving in the present and hope for the future.
Perhaps we need to invite those in our congregations to consider how our narrative might be enfolding into God’s greater narrative. For example, perhaps we should consider the particular ways God has been at work in our lives to demonstrate his hesed, his faithful love, in the midst of the things that press in upon us and surround us. Are there biblical stories on which we might draw to assist us in telling our own story and thereby connect us to the long narrative of God’s redemptive work in the world? In connecting our narrative with God’s narrative, we might be compelled to say to those around us: “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever”—and truly mean it.
Original Meaning
Thanksgiving Celebration (118:19–28)
THE FINAL SECTION OF THE PSALM rehearses a thanksgiving or todah ceremony that would have probably taken place near or within the temple precinct. The participants in this liturgy likely included the individual psalmist (vv. 19, 21, 28), the temple priests or ministers (vv. 20, 26–27), and the worshiping community (vv. 22–25).
Open for me the gates. With the imperative “open” in verse 19, the psalmist shifts from his lengthy recitation of deliverance in verses 5–18 and begins a new section in the psalm. The precise nature of the exchange between the psalmist (vv. 19, 21) and the temple ministers (v. 20) remains elusive, but at a minimum there seems to be an inquiry concerning the individual’s legitimate right to participate in cultic worship. Psalm 15 contains another entrance liturgy focused on the petitioner’s right to enter the temple. That psalm opens with a question, followed by a response (vv. 1–2b):
LORD, who may dwell in your sacred tent?
Who may live on your holy mountain?
The one whose walk is blameless,
who does what is righteous . . .
The remainder of Psalm 15 describes the actions of one whose way is blameless and righteous. But in Psalm 118 the focus has shifted slightly. Here the psalmist desires to enter the “gates of the righteous” so that he might offer his thanksgiving praise and todah sacrifice (v. 19). In response to the psalmist’s request to enter the gates of righteousness, the temple ministers remind him, “this is the gate of the LORD through which the righteous may enter.” So, in what sense is “righteousness” being understood in Psalm 118:19? In the Old Testament, distress often implied a sense of distance and separation from God and sometimes was even interpreted as divine punishment.21
The psalms of lament frequently record sentiments of anguish at the apparent distance of God in the midst of such circumstances, for such distance could be interpreted as a breach in the relationship. In Psalm 118, however, the psalmist has already recounted his plight and even confessed that the Lord had chastened him—but not to the point of death. For the psalmist, his rescue by Yahweh has changed everything. As Hossfeld and Zenger explain,
Rescue from the crisis meant restoration of the disturbed relationship with God and so was celebrated in the todah sacrifice as a demonstration of Yahweh’s righteousness (in technical theological language: justification): the person who had been rescued enters as a righteous person . . . in order to give thanks to his divine savior.22
Without drawing too fine a distinction, one might say that, whereas Psalm 15 spoke about the righteous actions of the person seeking entrance into the temple, Psalm 118 appears to be addressing whether the person has been made righteous (i.e., placed in right relationship) with Yahweh. This understanding explains the response of the psalmist to the statement by the temple ministers. They remind him that the gate he seeks to enter is the gate of the Lord, through which those made righteous may enter.
The stone the builders rejected. In response to the psalmist’s declaration that Yahweh has heard him and saved him, the community speaks in verses 22–25. In verse 22 they assess the psalmist’s plight, both past and present, by citing what many assume was a proverbial saying: “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” Because Israelite houses and structures were composed of stone, the literal meaning of the proverb, as well as its metaphorical meaning, would have been obvious to the original audience. In the construction of homes, builders would have regularly thrown aside stones that appeared to be worthless or useless in construction; yet in this proverb it is precisely such a stone that becomes the cornerstone.23
The Hebrew ro’sh pinah can be translated literally as “head of the corner,” which explains the frequent translation “cornerstone,” as in the NIV. In Job 38:6 the phrase is associated with the foundation, thus leading some to translate the phrase as “foundation stone” (e.g., CEB). Hossfeld and Zenger, citing a similar phrase in Zechariah 4:7, propose the image more likely refers to a capstone that would have signaled the completion of a building.24
While the precise meaning of the particular phrase may be in debate, the meaning of the proverb is clear: someone who was once considered marginalized and of little value has now been placed back into the “structure,” the community of the righteous, by the Builder. The worshiping community “treats the saved one as a rehabilitated, important member.”25
The LORD has done this. The community provides further analysis of the situation in Psalm 118:23–24. They attribute the deliverance of the psalmist to Yahweh and none other, not even the psalmist himself. In verse 23a the community confesses, “the LORD has done this” (emphasis added)—a reference to God’s faithful act of deliverance and restoration. In addition to attributing these acts to Yahweh, the psalmist places this act of deliverance in the broader context of God’s salvific acts in history. In verse 23b the poet says, “it is marvelous [niplat] in our eyes.” The nominal form, pele’, and the participial form, nipla’ot, are frequently translated “wonder,” as seen in Exodus 15:11 and 34:10, respectively. The significant moments in Israel’s history in which God delivered his people are frequently termed the “wondrous works” of God. The community understands the victory over the foreign nations mentioned in Psalm 118:5–18, as well as the psalmist’s presence in the community (vv. 19–21), as “wondrous works” of Yahweh that stand in continuity with Israel’s deliverance at the Red Sea (Exod 15).
Psalm 118:24 extends the claim made in the prior verse. Traditionally, verse 24a has been rendered, “This is the day that the LORD has made.” The NIV, however, has rendered the Hebrew, “The LORD has done it this very day,” a translation that fits better contextually. The community is not celebrating the creation of that day but instead is celebrating the miraculous work that Yahweh “has done” (‘asah) on that day. Earlier in the psalm, the root ‘sh appears three times (vv. 15–17) as the psalmist recounts the deliverance brought about by the right hand of the Lord. In verse 24a the community is echoing the testimony of the psalmist by affirming that Yahweh indeed has acted on this day.
LORD, save us! In verses 22–24 the community celebrates the psalmist’s deliverance. In verse 25, however, the community turns to Yahweh and makes a communal request. The strongly worded petition in verse 25 is unexpected in a song of thanksgiving.26
Both lines in verse 25 open with the interjection ’anna’, which normally begins a request and adds a sense of pleading to it. Each line closes with another interjection, na’, and likewise reinforces the sense of pleading in the verse.27
Typically, English translations truncate the translation (as with the NIV) by leaving out the additional interjections. Rendered literally, the verse reads, “Please, O LORD, save us, we beg! Please, O LORD, make us prosper, we beg!” The structure of the verse signals the desperation of the community for Yahweh to act in their behalf even as he has done in behalf of the psalmist. This request suggests that the community remains in need of deliverance from some kind of crisis, but even more it signals their firm conviction that Yahweh remains the sole source of hope.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD. The priests or temple ministers appear to be speaking to those who will be coming into the temple precinct.28
Hebrew poetry does not always identify the various speakers in a psalm, so modern attempts to do so are tentative proposals at best. Because the speakers are “from the house of the LORD” and because they provide liturgical instruction in verse 27a, the suggestion that the priests are speaking in verses 26–27 appears plausible. The language of verse 26 recalls the language in verse 19. In that verse the psalmist explains that he will “enter” (bo’) the house of the Lord and give thanks. The same verb is used in verse 26, which declares that those who come or enter (bo’) the house of the Lord will be blessed. The community’s request that Yahweh save them amid turmoil (v. 25) is met with the promise “from the house of the LORD” that all who enter in the name of the Lord receive the blessing of God. That the “you” in verse 26b is actually a plural form perhaps implies the meaning that any of you who come in the name of the Lord will be blessed by God from the house of the Lord.
Despite whatever turmoil or threat that may be behind the plea in verse 25, the priests are confident the Lord will bless those who come to him (v. 26). This confidence is predicated on their confession in verse 27 that “The LORD is God.” Exodus 15 stands in the background of this psalm once more. In verse 11 of that text the question is asked, “Who among the gods is like you LORD?” The claim in Exodus 15 and the response in Psalm 118:27a is clear: Yahweh alone is God. Yahweh’s victory over the nations in Exodus 15 and his victory recorded in Psalm 118:5–18 reinforce the claim that Yahweh, our God, is God indeed.
You are my God, and I will praise you. Following the declaration by the priests in verse 27 that Yahweh is God, in verse 28 the psalmist speaks again in affirming not only that Yahweh is God but also that Yahweh is his God, that there is a relationship between Yahweh and the psalmist. The language in verse 28 follows closely the language in Exodus 15:2b by declaring the psalmist’s intent to praise or confess (yadah) God and magnify him.
Bridging Contexts
THE DELIVERANCE OF THE LORD. As noted in the exegetical treatment above, the psalmist repeatedly alludes to Yahweh’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The Song of the Sea in Exodus 15 is a poetic remembrance of that deliverance and fertile soil for the poetic reflections of the later psalmist. The opening and closing lines of Psalm 118 refer to the hesed (“steadfast love”) of Yahweh, as does the repeated refrain in verses 2–4. In Exodus 15:13, it is because of God’s hesed that Israel will be guided into God’s presence, even as the psalmist is brought into God’s presence in Psalm 118:19–21. Both the Song of the Sea and Psalm 118 acknowledge the power of the nations, but both songs assuredly assert that even such nations can be overcome through the power of Israel’s God (Exod 15:14–15; Ps 118:10–12). In addition to the textual relationship evidenced in these references, the connection between the two poetic texts appears elsewhere in Psalm 118. In verse 14 the psalmist quotes directly from Exodus 15:2a, and later in Psalm 118 (v. 28) Exodus 15:2b is recalled. The repeated references to the right hand of the Lord in Psalm 118 recall similar language in the exodus event (cf. Exod 15:6, 12). The psalmist may have also been aware of the verses just prior to the Song of the Sea (Exod 14:30–31), given the shared vocabulary between those verses and Psalm 118.29
With the repeated references and allusions to Exodus 15, the writer of Psalm 118 does much more than simply use “cut-and-paste” language, imagery, and thought from a previous poetic text in Israel’s tradition; rather, the psalmist makes a critical theological move—one that speaks to the identity of God and the hope of his people. Psalm 118 is a song of thanksgiving. The bulk of the poem (vv. 5–18) focuses on God’s deliverance of the psalmist. This portion of the psalm illustrates above all God’s hesed, his faithful love for the people of God. God’s hesed, which was on display at the Red Sea (Exod 14–15), is likewise on display in the life of this psalmist. By the nature of the faithful love of God, his deliverance is not whimsical or arbitrary, but constant. The God who delivered the Israelites from the Egyptians is the same God who delivered the psalmist from the nations (Ps 118:10–12). Because of this kind of faithful love on God’s part, the psalmist confesses that it is better to take refuge in the Lord than in any human deliverer.
While the first half of Psalm 118 confesses that in the past God has proven his faithfulness as refuge and deliverer, the second half of the psalm suggests that such knowledge leads to hope. In verse 25 (as translated above), the community confesses the plea, “Please, O LORD, save us, we beg! Please, O LORD, make us prosper, we beg!” The people of God plead for deliverance not because this God is their last and only hope but because this God has proven faithful from generation to generation. Put otherwise, their hope is grounded in the witness of God’s consistent desire to deliver his people. The community in Psalm 118 turns to God (v. 18) because they know of his faithful acts in the past to deliver his people, and they trust that his faithful love will extend to them even now. In the New Testament Paul reminds those at Ephesus of this God who faithfully loves his people and seeks to deliver them: “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions” (Eph 2:4–5). The faithful love of God, seen throughout the pages of the Old Testament but made most manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, assures us that this God has loved us with a great love and continues to demonstrate that love as he makes us “alive with Christ.”
Psalm 118 in the New Testament. The New Testament writers made considerable use of the language and imagery of Psalm 118 as “a means of understanding and articulating the significance of Jesus.”30
Given that Psalm 118 celebrated the faithful love (hesed) of God to deliver his people, it is not surprising that the psalm was frequently cited in the New Testament. Among the uses of Psalm 118 in the New Testament, all four Gospels cite its verse 26 and declare that Jesus is the one “who comes in the name of the Lord” (Matt 21:9; Mark 11:9–10; Luke 19:38; John 12:13). In each instance the citation occurs in the context of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. As suggested above, the verse in its original context refers to the person who enters the temple precinct to worship God. Given that Psalm 118 is often labeled a royal psalm, some readers assume that the person mentioned in 118:26 is a king. In the passion narratives, the Gospel writers make a similar connection and declare that Jesus comes into Jerusalem as a king (e.g., Matt 21:5) and, consequently, is the long-awaited one “who comes in the name of the LORD.”31
In Mark, Matthew, and John, the announcement that Jesus comes in the name of the Lord is preceded by the shout, “Hosanna.” That word is also derived from Psalm 118 (v. 25), where the people pray, “Save us” (hoshi‘ah na). Although many interpreters suggest that the word “hosanna” had morphed in meaning and likely was used as a cry or exclamation of praise, it might be possible that the Gospel writers intended the word as a double entendre. Indeed, the crowds shouted in praise as Jesus, the Messiah-King, made his way into Jerusalem, but even in the exclamation itself they were declaring this king’s purpose.
In the parable of the tenants (Matt 21:33–46; Mark 12:1–12; Luke 20:9–19), Psalm 118:22–23 (“the stone the builders rejected”) functions as the interpretive key. Jesus weaves the story of a man who plants a vineyard and rents it to some farmers. The farmer sends a number of servants to the tenants, but each one is killed. In a final act the farmer sends his son, but he too meets with the same fate. Jesus refers to the fate of the son in the parable, and by extension his own fate, in the light of Psalm 118. Jesus is the stone the builders rejected—even as the tenants exercised their rejection—but the rejected stone will become the chief cornerstone. James Mays notes that Psalm 118 furnished “a scriptural warrant for taking the very rejection of Jesus as a moment of messianic disclosure.”32
Interestingly, after referring to the rejected stone Jesus cites Psalm 118:23, “the LORD has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes.” The purpose is clear. The New Testament writers wanted to affirm that the establishment of the crucified Lord as the cornerstone had nothing to do with the work of humans; rather “the LORD has done this.” And “this” was not a messianic plan gone awry—it was the very work of the living God.
Contemporary Significance
THANKSGIVING. Psalm 118 invites the reader to two acts of spiritual formation. The first is an act of praise comprised of recitation—the heart of thanksgiving. At times thanksgiving has been reduced simply to the act of saying “thank you.” As such, the expression is merely the final statement made in a series of exchanges between two or more parties. For example, you enter a store to make a purchase. The salesperson rings up the purchase and you slide your card through the card reader. The salesperson punches a few keys on the computer, hands you a receipt, and says “thank you.” He hands you your purchase and you reply “thank you” in return. Such exchanges are perfunctory; they are statements of common courtesy made with little thought and likely no real sense of gratitude.
The lengthy recitation in Psalm 118:5–18, however, poses a different model for thanksgiving. Had the psalmist sought brevity, he could simply have said, “I was in trouble. God delivered me. Thanks be to God.” But such a statement reduces what happened to a transaction, at best. Yet the psalmist opted to recount at length the depths of his trouble and the reality of his helplessness. In this section of the psalm such images are juxtaposed with God’s intervention in the psalmist’s life. Rather than simply offering a perfunctory “thank you” to God, we also might do well to describe the depths of our own trouble and the reality of our own helplessness. Perhaps we are too self-reliant and too ashamed of our inability to save ourselves, but when we confess the depths of our need, we are confronted above all with our need for God. As we make this recitation-turned-confession, we are also reminded of the greatness of God’s deliverance. It is in those moments that we may find ourselves overwhelmed with a sense of true thanksgiving.
God’s narrative. Our narrative. The reality of biblical illiteracy, both in our larger society and in our congregations, has been well documented. In a blog post for Christianity Today, Ed Stetzer labeled such illiteracy an “epidemic” and noted that only 45 percent of those who regularly attend church read the Bible more than once a week. More than 40 percent of the people attending read their Bible occasionally—maybe once or twice a month—while almost 1 in 5 churchgoers say they never read the Bible.33
This problem is more than simply an issue of information: Does a person know who King Hezekiah was or in which testament he appeared? The real issue is more than whether we know enough to win a game in Bible trivia; rather, at its root this issue concerns our own formation, or lack thereof. In Psalm 118 the psalmist links his own narrative with God’s narrative. As suggested above in Bridging Contexts, the poet makes extensive use of Exodus 14–15, a central story in God’s narrative with his people, and he understands his deliverance as an extension of that story. His narrative has been enfolded into the larger narrative of God’s work in the world, while no doubt informing and forming his own view of his deliverance and his Deliverer.
When we make thanksgiving solely about what God has done for me and me alone, we run the risk of skewing our view of the Deliverer and jettisoning any sense of God’s greater narrative in the world. But when we understand our stories of deliverance and our reasons for thanksgiving in the light of God’s ways with those who have gone before us, we are connected to a narrative—a narrative that gives us reason for thanksgiving in the present and hope for the future.
Perhaps we need to invite those in our congregations to consider how our narrative might be enfolding into God’s greater narrative. For example, perhaps we should consider the particular ways God has been at work in our lives to demonstrate his hesed, his faithful love, in the midst of the things that press in upon us and surround us. Are there biblical stories on which we might draw to assist us in telling our own story and thereby connect us to the long narrative of God’s redemptive work in the world? In connecting our narrative with God’s narrative, we might be compelled to say to those around us: “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever”—and truly mean it.
Original Meaning
Concluding Verse (118:29)
THE PSALM CONCLUDES BY REPEATING the opening verse of the psalm. The psalm opens with this affirmation, but the deliverance recounted in verses 5–18 and the events of the thanksgiving celebration in verses 19–28 give reason anew for the call to give thanks.
Bridging Contexts
THE DELIVERANCE OF THE LORD. As noted in the exegetical treatment above, the psalmist repeatedly alludes to Yahweh’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The Song of the Sea in Exodus 15 is a poetic remembrance of that deliverance and fertile soil for the poetic reflections of the later psalmist. The opening and closing lines of Psalm 118 refer to the hesed (“steadfast love”) of Yahweh, as does the repeated refrain in verses 2–4. In Exodus 15:13, it is because of God’s hesed that Israel will be guided into God’s presence, even as the psalmist is brought into God’s presence in Psalm 118:19–21. Both the Song of the Sea and Psalm 118 acknowledge the power of the nations, but both songs assuredly assert that even such nations can be overcome through the power of Israel’s God (Exod 15:14–15; Ps 118:10–12). In addition to the textual relationship evidenced in these references, the connection between the two poetic texts appears elsewhere in Psalm 118. In verse 14 the psalmist quotes directly from Exodus 15:2a, and later in Psalm 118 (v. 28) Exodus 15:2b is recalled. The repeated references to the right hand of the Lord in Psalm 118 recall similar language in the exodus event (cf. Exod 15:6, 12). The psalmist may have also been aware of the verses just prior to the Song of the Sea (Exod 14:30–31), given the shared vocabulary between those verses and Psalm 118.29
With the repeated references and allusions to Exodus 15, the writer of Psalm 118 does much more than simply use “cut-and-paste” language, imagery, and thought from a previous poetic text in Israel’s tradition; rather, the psalmist makes a critical theological move—one that speaks to the identity of God and the hope of his people. Psalm 118 is a song of thanksgiving. The bulk of the poem (vv. 5–18) focuses on God’s deliverance of the psalmist. This portion of the psalm illustrates above all God’s hesed, his faithful love for the people of God. God’s hesed, which was on display at the Red Sea (Exod 14–15), is likewise on display in the life of this psalmist. By the nature of the faithful love of God, his deliverance is not whimsical or arbitrary, but constant. The God who delivered the Israelites from the Egyptians is the same God who delivered the psalmist from the nations (Ps 118:10–12). Because of this kind of faithful love on God’s part, the psalmist confesses that it is better to take refuge in the Lord than in any human deliverer.
While the first half of Psalm 118 confesses that in the past God has proven his faithfulness as refuge and deliverer, the second half of the psalm suggests that such knowledge leads to hope. In verse 25 (as translated above), the community confesses the plea, “Please, O LORD, save us, we beg! Please, O LORD, make us prosper, we beg!” The people of God plead for deliverance not because this God is their last and only hope but because this God has proven faithful from generation to generation. Put otherwise, their hope is grounded in the witness of God’s consistent desire to deliver his people. The community in Psalm 118 turns to God (v. 18) because they know of his faithful acts in the past to deliver his people, and they trust that his faithful love will extend to them even now. In the New Testament Paul reminds those at Ephesus of this God who faithfully loves his people and seeks to deliver them: “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions” (Eph 2:4–5). The faithful love of God, seen throughout the pages of the Old Testament but made most manifest in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, assures us that this God has loved us with a great love and continues to demonstrate that love as he makes us “alive with Christ.”
Psalm 118 in the New Testament. The New Testament writers made considerable use of the language and imagery of Psalm 118 as “a means of understanding and articulating the significance of Jesus.”30
Given that Psalm 118 celebrated the faithful love (hesed) of God to deliver his people, it is not surprising that the psalm was frequently cited in the New Testament. Among the uses of Psalm 118 in the New Testament, all four Gospels cite its verse 26 and declare that Jesus is the one “who comes in the name of the Lord” (Matt 21:9; Mark 11:9–10; Luke 19:38; John 12:13). In each instance the citation occurs in the context of Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. As suggested above, the verse in its original context refers to the person who enters the temple precinct to worship God. Given that Psalm 118 is often labeled a royal psalm, some readers assume that the person mentioned in 118:26 is a king. In the passion narratives, the Gospel writers make a similar connection and declare that Jesus comes into Jerusalem as a king (e.g., Matt 21:5) and, consequently, is the long-awaited one “who comes in the name of the LORD.”31
In Mark, Matthew, and John, the announcement that Jesus comes in the name of the Lord is preceded by the shout, “Hosanna.” That word is also derived from Psalm 118 (v. 25), where the people pray, “Save us” (hoshi‘ah na). Although many interpreters suggest that the word “hosanna” had morphed in meaning and likely was used as a cry or exclamation of praise, it might be possible that the Gospel writers intended the word as a double entendre. Indeed, the crowds shouted in praise as Jesus, the Messiah-King, made his way into Jerusalem, but even in the exclamation itself they were declaring this king’s purpose.
In the parable of the tenants (Matt 21:33–46; Mark 12:1–12; Luke 20:9–19), Psalm 118:22–23 (“the stone the builders rejected”) functions as the interpretive key. Jesus weaves the story of a man who plants a vineyard and rents it to some farmers. The farmer sends a number of servants to the tenants, but each one is killed. In a final act the farmer sends his son, but he too meets with the same fate. Jesus refers to the fate of the son in the parable, and by extension his own fate, in the light of Psalm 118. Jesus is the stone the builders rejected—even as the tenants exercised their rejection—but the rejected stone will become the chief cornerstone. James Mays notes that Psalm 118 furnished “a scriptural warrant for taking the very rejection of Jesus as a moment of messianic disclosure.”32
Interestingly, after referring to the rejected stone Jesus cites Psalm 118:23, “the LORD has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes.” The purpose is clear. The New Testament writers wanted to affirm that the establishment of the crucified Lord as the cornerstone had nothing to do with the work of humans; rather “the LORD has done this.” And “this” was not a messianic plan gone awry—it was the very work of the living God.
Contemporary Significance
THANKSGIVING. Psalm 118 invites the reader to two acts of spiritual formation. The first is an act of praise comprised of recitation—the heart of thanksgiving. At times thanksgiving has been reduced simply to the act of saying “thank you.” As such, the expression is merely the final statement made in a series of exchanges between two or more parties. For example, you enter a store to make a purchase. The salesperson rings up the purchase and you slide your card through the card reader. The salesperson punches a few keys on the computer, hands you a receipt, and says “thank you.” He hands you your purchase and you reply “thank you” in return. Such exchanges are perfunctory; they are statements of common courtesy made with little thought and likely no real sense of gratitude.
The lengthy recitation in Psalm 118:5–18, however, poses a different model for thanksgiving. Had the psalmist sought brevity, he could simply have said, “I was in trouble. God delivered me. Thanks be to God.” But such a statement reduces what happened to a transaction, at best. Yet the psalmist opted to recount at length the depths of his trouble and the reality of his helplessness. In this section of the psalm such images are juxtaposed with God’s intervention in the psalmist’s life. Rather than simply offering a perfunctory “thank you” to God, we also might do well to describe the depths of our own trouble and the reality of our own helplessness. Perhaps we are too self-reliant and too ashamed of our inability to save ourselves, but when we confess the depths of our need, we are confronted above all with our need for God. As we make this recitation-turned-confession, we are also reminded of the greatness of God’s deliverance. It is in those moments that we may find ourselves overwhelmed with a sense of true thanksgiving.
God’s narrative. Our narrative. The reality of biblical illiteracy, both in our larger society and in our congregations, has been well documented. In a blog post for Christianity Today, Ed Stetzer labeled such illiteracy an “epidemic” and noted that only 45 percent of those who regularly attend church read the Bible more than once a week. More than 40 percent of the people attending read their Bible occasionally—maybe once or twice a month—while almost 1 in 5 churchgoers say they never read the Bible.33
This problem is more than simply an issue of information: Does a person know who King Hezekiah was or in which testament he appeared? The real issue is more than whether we know enough to win a game in Bible trivia; rather, at its root this issue concerns our own formation, or lack thereof. In Psalm 118 the psalmist links his own narrative with God’s narrative. As suggested above in Bridging Contexts, the poet makes extensive use of Exodus 14–15, a central story in God’s narrative with his people, and he understands his deliverance as an extension of that story. His narrative has been enfolded into the larger narrative of God’s work in the world, while no doubt informing and forming his own view of his deliverance and his Deliverer.
When we make thanksgiving solely about what God has done for me and me alone, we run the risk of skewing our view of the Deliverer and jettisoning any sense of God’s greater narrative in the world. But when we understand our stories of deliverance and our reasons for thanksgiving in the light of God’s ways with those who have gone before us, we are connected to a narrative—a narrative that gives us reason for thanksgiving in the present and hope for the future.
Perhaps we need to invite those in our congregations to consider how our narrative might be enfolding into God’s greater narrative. For example, perhaps we should consider the particular ways God has been at work in our lives to demonstrate his hesed, his faithful love, in the midst of the things that press in upon us and surround us. Are there biblical stories on which we might draw to assist us in telling our own story and thereby connect us to the long narrative of God’s redemptive work in the world? In connecting our narrative with God’s narrative, we might be compelled to say to those around us: “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever”—and truly mean it.
(tsrr I),” NIDOTTE 3:853.
HALOT 1:555–6.