Original Meaning
Praise the God Who Cares for His People (147:1–6)
FOLLOWING THE INITIAL CALL to praise God (v. 1a), in verse 1b the psalmist provides an initial justification (or what Goldingay terms “an interim rationale”) for doing so prior to offering a more comprehensive rationale in verses 2–6.
Praise the LORD. The psalm opens with an exhortation to “Praise the LORD” (halelu yah) in verse 1a, an exhortation that repeats at the close of the psalm in verse 20c. The two together create an inclusio around the entire psalm, as is characteristic of all the psalms in the Final Hallel. The rationale provided in verse 1b/c contains two parallel lines that are identically structured. Each line includes a particle ki (“for” or “because”) followed by an adjective, an infinitive, and an object. The NIV understands the particle ki as having an asserverative function, i.e., the particle serves to emphasize the claim found in the clause it modifies (i.e., “How good”). While this understanding is certainly defensible, one could also understand the particle to serve a causal function with the meaning “because.” The comments in verses 1b–c provide the rationale; they explain why the people should “Praise the LORD.”
The LORD builds up Jerusalem. Verses 2–3 introduce two images, those of builder and shepherd. In verse 2a Yahweh “builds up” the city. The references to the reconstruction of the city have led Hans-Joachim Kraus, among others, to suggest that Psalm 147 originated after the completion of the city walls during the time of Nehemiah (Neh 12:27).3
The verb “to build” (banah) appears as a participle, thus suggesting the ongoing work of reconstruction and restoration. The reference to strengthening the gate (Ps 147:13a) further supports Kraus’ claim. While dating the psalms with any precision remains a tenuous task, at minimum one can conclude that Psalm 147, as presently arranged, likely reflects the social, historical, and theological crises associated with the events of the fifth century.
In addition to his ongoing work of building up the city, Yahweh is to be praised for gathering up the exiles of Israel. The Hebrew does not use the traditional word for “exiles” but instead the word nidhe, a niphal participle from the verbal root ndh, meaning “scattered.” In Ezekiel 34:12–13 Yahweh promises that like a shepherd he will gather his scattered flock, and in verse 16 the same root (ndh) appears in reference to the scattered sheep. The two texts (Ps 147 and Ezek 34) provide a striking image of Yahweh as the Great Shepherd of his people.
He heals the brokenhearted. The Great Shepherd does more than simply bring back the scattered—he also heals the brokenhearted and the wounded. Similar language occurs in Ezekiel 34:16 and Isaiah 61:2, and in both texts the images refer to the people of Israel who have endured much as a result of the exile and its aftermath. The language in Psalm 147:2–3, which is similar to other postexilic writings, suggests the community perceived that the exile had not yet ended, or at a minimum that the effects of the exile still cast a long shadow on the community.
He determines the number of the stars. The psalmist appears to make a rather abrupt shift in verses 4–5 by moving from the language of deliverance to that of creation. The poet declares that Yahweh determines the number of the stars and then names them—a clear reference to the confession in Isaiah 40:26 (Yahweh “brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name”). The act of naming the stars indicates Yahweh’s dominion over them and once more highlights his sovereign power over all the elements of creation.
Great is our LORD and mighty in power. Psalm 147:4 illustrates Yahweh’s power through an image rooted in creation; verse 5, however, celebrates his power through explicit confession. The confession in verse 5 echoes the confession made earlier in Psalm 145:3. To declare Yahweh as “great” is to do far more than make a subjective assessment about the nature of God. In the ancient Near East, the label “great” was applied to deities in combination with their role as kings (for examples, see comments on Ps 145). This connection between the label “great” and kingship can also be found in other texts in the Psalter (e.g., Ps 95:3). Thus, the Divine King, Yahweh, is “great” and stands over all creation (Ps 147:4). The magnitude of his power in these arenas of creation justifies Israel’s hope (vv. 2–3) for his salvific work within their own community.
The LORD sustains the humble. The psalmist employs the same form of the verb used in Psalm 146:9, “to sustain” (the polel form of ‘wd I). The verb means more precisely “to help up” or “to support,” a nuance that better aligns with the image of the brokenhearted and wounded in Psalm 147:2. The noun “humble” often has a “religious” connotation, hence the NIV’s translation; yet the word belongs to the larger word field associated with the poor and can refer to those suffering under social, economic, and political duress as well.4
The latter seems to fit better the context of the psalm. Rather than being “sustained,” those who have been scattered need to be lifted up. This image stands in contrast to the fate of the wicked in verse 6b, whom Yahweh “casts . . . to the ground.”
Bridging Contexts
HUMAN POWER DOES NOT IMPRESS GOD. The second strophe concludes with a comment related to human power (vv. 10–11). The psalmist confesses that Yahweh is the one who names the stars (v. 4) and overseas the phenomena of creation (vv. 8–9, 15–18); he is the one who stands over all creation as the Divine King. Given his status as all-powerful, one might assume that Yahweh seeks followers who exhibit a similar characteristic and, in some way, reflect that type of dominant power. Yet Yahweh explicitly rejects power for power’s sake. The “strength of the horse” and the legs of the mighty do little to impress Yahweh. To the contrary, Yahweh has chosen the humble and poor (v. 6), the brokenhearted and wounded. He has chosen those who fear him and place their hope in him, not themselves.
God’s choice of the humble and poor is not limited to the Old Testament. In Matthew 11 Jesus explains to the disciples that God has hidden things from the “wise and learned” and instead revealed them to the “little children.” In referring to the “little children,” Jesus uses the Greek word nēpios, which often refers to infants (Matt 11:25). In the ancient GrecoRoman world, infants were considered expendable and of little worth, while the most valued people were the wise and the learned—those with power. Jesus declares that God did not choose the wise and learned to accomplish his work in the world but instead chose those of seemingly little worth, yet in that choice the nature of God is revealed.
Paul also knew something of this counter-cultural surprise. In his first letter to the church at Corinth he declared, “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Cor 1:18). Later in that same chapter (vv. 26–28a) Paul says to the church,
Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world.
Although not a formal “hymn of praise,” Paul’s words echo such a sentiment. God is to be praised because his logic runs counter to that of the world. God in his power chose that which is weak to proclaim Christ crucified, “a stumbling block” to some, but testimony of the very power and wisdom of God (vv. 23–24).
God’s power in the world. Psalm 147 weaves together three prominent themes in Israel’s theological confession: God’s power in creation, God’s power in deliverance, and God’s power through his word. Other psalms give considerable attention to God’s work in creation (e.g., Pss 19; 104), and others still to his power to deliver in Israel’s history (e.g., Pss 107; 135–36); frequently, these two themes are wedded. God delivers because he is the “Maker of heaven and earth,” and because he stands over all creation as its maker, he intervenes in history to deliver his people. To these two themes Psalm 147 adds a third—Yahweh’s word.
In the postexilic period Israel likely pondered God’s presence in the world and, much more, his governance of the same. The events of the exile and the subsequent restoration likely called into question much of what Israel had confessed regarding God’s sovereignty over the world. In response, the postexilic community sought to reaffirm the power of God by declaring him the “the God of heaven” (cf. Ps 115), the one who stands over all creation. Yet in doing so they also ran the risk of declaring Yahweh an absentee potentate who was only marginally, if at all, interactive with his creation and his people. Psalm 147 silences this concern by declaring that God remains intimately involved in the world via his word. God’s word orders all creation (vv. 8–9, 15–18), but even more, his word shapes his people (vv. 19–20).
These three themes—God’s power in creation, God’s power in deliverance, and God’s power through his word—find their counterpart in the New Testament. In the prologue to the Gospel of John, creation, deliverance, and the word are intermingled anew, thereby declaring God’s power and, even more, reinforcing God’s redemptive activity both in the world and in its behalf. In his classic work Evangelical Theology: An Introduction, Karl Barth writes of God,
He exists neither next to man nor merely above him, but rather with him, by him, and most important of all, for him. He is man’s God not only as Lord, but also has father, brother, friend and this relationship implies neither diminution nor in any way a denial, but instead confirmation and display of his divine essence. “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and humble spirit . . .” (Isa 57:15). This he does in the history of his deeds. A God who confronted man simply as exalted, distant and strange, that is, a divinity without humanity, could only be the God of dysangelion, of “bad news,” instead of “good news.”10
The Gospel of John explains that “in the beginning was the Word” and that, through the Word, “all things were made” (John 1:3). But the Word did not remain “exalted, distant and strange”; instead, “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (v. 14). This is the God of euangelion, the God of good news.
Contemporary Significance
IN COMMENTING ON THE Final Hallel (Pss 146–50), Eugene Peterson declares that these psalms “put all the acts of God’s salvation and deliverance, his creation and providence on display and festoon them with hallelujah garlands.”11
Psalm 147 invites us to pause and think deeply on these matters—God’s salvation, his deliverance, his creation, and his providence. Because these labels capture so well the warp and woof of God’s ways in and with the world, nearly the entire biblical story falls under one or more of these headings. And this observation is no less true of Psalm 147, even as the psalmist narrows the parameters of his reflection by pausing to consider God’s warp and woof in the light of the postexilic experience. The psalmist declares God’s power by detailing moments and places in time when and where that power has been or is being manifested, whether at creation (v. 4), in creation (vv. 8–9), or among God’s people (vv. 2–3). Yet God’s exhibitions of power are far more than a divine “flexing of the muscles” meant to cause his creation to cower in fear; to the contrary, these acts are a form of euangelion, of good news. God’s power always leans toward the restoring, sustaining, and shaping of his creation.
The psalm was likely written and, likelier still, to have been read in a time when restoration seemed all but impossible, yet the psalmist confesses that nothing is impossible with God (Jer 32:27; Luke 1:37). Jerusalem was being rebuilt, the city gate being strengthened, and the land returning to its fecundity. And the exiles who returned, those who were brokenhearted and wounded—they too would experience the restorative work of God in their lives; through his power he would bind them up and sustain them. Yet this restorative work of God among his people is always heard alongside God’s sustaining work in creation. God provides the rain that waters the earth that feeds the animals, and God guides the meteorological events in nature, yet all without fanfare and with little notice. James Mays suggests that these confessions of God’s care for his people and the world appear to create an “indiscriminate montage,” but in fact, together, they are much more.12
Although they seem only tangentially related, they are in reality inextricably linked. The God who cares for creation is the same God who binds up the wounded and rebuilds the city. And the God who faithfully sends his word (Ps 147:15b) so that nature might fulfill its God-appointed task is the God who sends his word so that his people might also fulfill their role as God’s covenantal partner: “He has done this for no other nation” (v. 20a).
The God who sends his word to order and sustain creation is the God who continues to come to us in his word, and in the Word, so that we too might be ordered and sustained by the very power of God that is at work in the world. Because he continues to come to us, because he continues to sustain us, and because he continues to shape us, we are invited to praise the Lord.
Original Meaning
Praise the God Who Sustains the World (147:7–11)
SIMILAR TO FIRST STROPHE, the second strophe opens with a call for the community to praise Yahweh with both voice and lyre. In particular, the community is invited to sing in a spirit of thanksgiving (todah). The remaining verses in the strophe identify the things for which they have reason to give thanks.
He supplies the earth. The first strophe alluded to Yahweh’s kingship by employing several images; this theme is continued in the second strophe with an emphasis on Yahweh as the “beneficent world king.”5
Verses 8–9 allude to the imagery found in Psalm 104:13–14, that of Yahweh’s providing food for his creation—a theme that receives extended treatment in Psalm 104. The sequence of events is quite logically constructed: Yahweh establishes the clouds, which produce the rain, which nourishes the earth and thereby produces the grass, which provides the food for the cattle and ravens. The reference to ravens seems unusual, particularly given that ravens are identified elsewhere in the Old Testament as unclean and consequently of little worth (Lev 11:15; Deut 14:14). Hossfeld and Zenger, following the work of Siegfried Risse, suggest that perhaps the ravens functioned “as an outstanding example of YHWH’s generous and compassionate care.”6
Even as God cares for the unclean and lowly raven, Yahweh will lift up the poor of his people and provide for them.
His delight is not in the legs of the warrior. As similarly in strophe 1, the imagery in strophe 2 switches unexpectedly. The psalmist shifts from picturing the Divine Provider (vv. 8–9) to picturing the Divine Protector (vv. 10–11). In the previous psalm (Ps 146) the poet referred specifically to human leaders with power (i.e., “princes”), but in Psalm 147 the language is more opaque in referring only to horses and the legs of warriors.7
Although such images of warring steeds and armored foot soldiers can be found in Assyrian reliefs, the Persians were also well known for their use of horsemen and footsoldiers to quell uprisings and expand their territorial holdings.8
At one point Artaxerxes II employed 20,000 horses with riders and another 100,000 footsoldiers of Persian nationality, along with tens of thousands of Greek mercenaries, in an effort to put down a potential threat. With the language in Psalm 147:10 the psalmist conjurs up impressive, if not terrorizing, images of imperial war machines that would have been familiar to those living in Jerusalem and the surrounding area during this period under Persian rule.
Despite the impressive power associated with such military might, the psalmist confesses that Israel’s God takes no delight in such matters. Yahweh the “Great” God (v. 5) does not choose his people based on their demonstrable power but instead on their willingness to trust in his. He delights not in those who masquerade as powerful but in those who know well where true power lies—he delights in those who “fear him” and hope in his “unfailing love” (hesed).
Bridging Contexts
HUMAN POWER DOES NOT IMPRESS GOD. The second strophe concludes with a comment related to human power (vv. 10–11). The psalmist confesses that Yahweh is the one who names the stars (v. 4) and overseas the phenomena of creation (vv. 8–9, 15–18); he is the one who stands over all creation as the Divine King. Given his status as all-powerful, one might assume that Yahweh seeks followers who exhibit a similar characteristic and, in some way, reflect that type of dominant power. Yet Yahweh explicitly rejects power for power’s sake. The “strength of the horse” and the legs of the mighty do little to impress Yahweh. To the contrary, Yahweh has chosen the humble and poor (v. 6), the brokenhearted and wounded. He has chosen those who fear him and place their hope in him, not themselves.
God’s choice of the humble and poor is not limited to the Old Testament. In Matthew 11 Jesus explains to the disciples that God has hidden things from the “wise and learned” and instead revealed them to the “little children.” In referring to the “little children,” Jesus uses the Greek word nēpios, which often refers to infants (Matt 11:25). In the ancient GrecoRoman world, infants were considered expendable and of little worth, while the most valued people were the wise and the learned—those with power. Jesus declares that God did not choose the wise and learned to accomplish his work in the world but instead chose those of seemingly little worth, yet in that choice the nature of God is revealed.
Paul also knew something of this counter-cultural surprise. In his first letter to the church at Corinth he declared, “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Cor 1:18). Later in that same chapter (vv. 26–28a) Paul says to the church,
Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world.
Although not a formal “hymn of praise,” Paul’s words echo such a sentiment. God is to be praised because his logic runs counter to that of the world. God in his power chose that which is weak to proclaim Christ crucified, “a stumbling block” to some, but testimony of the very power and wisdom of God (vv. 23–24).
God’s power in the world. Psalm 147 weaves together three prominent themes in Israel’s theological confession: God’s power in creation, God’s power in deliverance, and God’s power through his word. Other psalms give considerable attention to God’s work in creation (e.g., Pss 19; 104), and others still to his power to deliver in Israel’s history (e.g., Pss 107; 135–36); frequently, these two themes are wedded. God delivers because he is the “Maker of heaven and earth,” and because he stands over all creation as its maker, he intervenes in history to deliver his people. To these two themes Psalm 147 adds a third—Yahweh’s word.
In the postexilic period Israel likely pondered God’s presence in the world and, much more, his governance of the same. The events of the exile and the subsequent restoration likely called into question much of what Israel had confessed regarding God’s sovereignty over the world. In response, the postexilic community sought to reaffirm the power of God by declaring him the “the God of heaven” (cf. Ps 115), the one who stands over all creation. Yet in doing so they also ran the risk of declaring Yahweh an absentee potentate who was only marginally, if at all, interactive with his creation and his people. Psalm 147 silences this concern by declaring that God remains intimately involved in the world via his word. God’s word orders all creation (vv. 8–9, 15–18), but even more, his word shapes his people (vv. 19–20).
These three themes—God’s power in creation, God’s power in deliverance, and God’s power through his word—find their counterpart in the New Testament. In the prologue to the Gospel of John, creation, deliverance, and the word are intermingled anew, thereby declaring God’s power and, even more, reinforcing God’s redemptive activity both in the world and in its behalf. In his classic work Evangelical Theology: An Introduction, Karl Barth writes of God,
He exists neither next to man nor merely above him, but rather with him, by him, and most important of all, for him. He is man’s God not only as Lord, but also has father, brother, friend and this relationship implies neither diminution nor in any way a denial, but instead confirmation and display of his divine essence. “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and humble spirit . . .” (Isa 57:15). This he does in the history of his deeds. A God who confronted man simply as exalted, distant and strange, that is, a divinity without humanity, could only be the God of dysangelion, of “bad news,” instead of “good news.”10
The Gospel of John explains that “in the beginning was the Word” and that, through the Word, “all things were made” (John 1:3). But the Word did not remain “exalted, distant and strange”; instead, “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (v. 14). This is the God of euangelion, the God of good news.
Contemporary Significance
IN COMMENTING ON THE Final Hallel (Pss 146–50), Eugene Peterson declares that these psalms “put all the acts of God’s salvation and deliverance, his creation and providence on display and festoon them with hallelujah garlands.”11
Psalm 147 invites us to pause and think deeply on these matters—God’s salvation, his deliverance, his creation, and his providence. Because these labels capture so well the warp and woof of God’s ways in and with the world, nearly the entire biblical story falls under one or more of these headings. And this observation is no less true of Psalm 147, even as the psalmist narrows the parameters of his reflection by pausing to consider God’s warp and woof in the light of the postexilic experience. The psalmist declares God’s power by detailing moments and places in time when and where that power has been or is being manifested, whether at creation (v. 4), in creation (vv. 8–9), or among God’s people (vv. 2–3). Yet God’s exhibitions of power are far more than a divine “flexing of the muscles” meant to cause his creation to cower in fear; to the contrary, these acts are a form of euangelion, of good news. God’s power always leans toward the restoring, sustaining, and shaping of his creation.
The psalm was likely written and, likelier still, to have been read in a time when restoration seemed all but impossible, yet the psalmist confesses that nothing is impossible with God (Jer 32:27; Luke 1:37). Jerusalem was being rebuilt, the city gate being strengthened, and the land returning to its fecundity. And the exiles who returned, those who were brokenhearted and wounded—they too would experience the restorative work of God in their lives; through his power he would bind them up and sustain them. Yet this restorative work of God among his people is always heard alongside God’s sustaining work in creation. God provides the rain that waters the earth that feeds the animals, and God guides the meteorological events in nature, yet all without fanfare and with little notice. James Mays suggests that these confessions of God’s care for his people and the world appear to create an “indiscriminate montage,” but in fact, together, they are much more.12
Although they seem only tangentially related, they are in reality inextricably linked. The God who cares for creation is the same God who binds up the wounded and rebuilds the city. And the God who faithfully sends his word (Ps 147:15b) so that nature might fulfill its God-appointed task is the God who sends his word so that his people might also fulfill their role as God’s covenantal partner: “He has done this for no other nation” (v. 20a).
The God who sends his word to order and sustain creation is the God who continues to come to us in his word, and in the Word, so that we too might be ordered and sustained by the very power of God that is at work in the world. Because he continues to come to us, because he continues to sustain us, and because he continues to shape us, we are invited to praise the Lord.
Original Meaning
Praise the God Who Gives His Word (147:12–20)
IN SIMILAR FASHION TO THE TWO previous strophes, the final strophe opens with a call for the community to praise Yahweh, followed by a lengthy justification for this call. Unlike the two previous strophes, this strophe is directed at Jerusalem and Zion (v. 12), thus explaining the rationale offered in verses 13–14 (see below). The remainder of the strophe focuses on the “word” of God.
He strengthens the bars of your gates. In verses 13–14 the psalmist identifies four ways in which Yahweh demonstrates his concern for Jerusalem: strengthening the city’s defenses (“gates”); blessing its citizens; establishing peace in the land; and providing ample food. At their most basic level these actions suggest that the distress and anguish associated with the exile is coming to a close, that Yahweh is working to restore his city and bless his people. At another level, however, the language of these verses recalls the poetic language and imagery found in Isaiah 54. There Yahweh promises that Zion would once more become a place where his people would gather (v. 7), but even more, it would be a city rebuilt “with precious stones” (v. 12c) and “sparkling jewels” (v. 12b). Zion would become a place marked by peace (v. 13b) and fully protected by Yahweh (v. 14). In Psalm 147 the psalmist comments on the events of his day, including the gradual restoration of Jerusalem, but he understands those events in light of what God had promised earlier in Isaiah 54. While the language in Psalm 147:13–14 celebrates restoration as a gift from God, it also serves as a reminder of God’s faithfulness to his earlier word.
His word runs swiftly. Just as the restoration of Jerusalem revealed the power of God’s word, so too do the meteorological phenomena observed by all people. The psalmist likely had in mind Psalm 33, another psalm that celebrates the creative power of God’s word. By his “word” (dabar) the heavens and the “starry host” were made; he spoke and “it came to be” (v. 6). Only this God, the one who stands above the heavens as the Divine King, can speak a world into being. In Psalm 147:15–18 the psalmist refers to God’s word three times. God sends his “command” (’imrah) to the earth, where his “word” (dabar) runs swiftly. The same term, “word” (dabar), appears once more in verse 18a: “he sends his word [dabar] and melts them.” A final reference to God’s “word” appears in the second line of verse 18: “he stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow.” Rendered more literally, verse 18b reads, “he blows his breath [ruah], the waters flow.” In Psalm 33:6 the psalmist declares that the starry host was made by the “breath [ruah] of his mouth,” so suggesting that as God spoke, creation came into being (cf. Gen 1). Although the psalmist omits from Psalm 147:18b the reference to “his mouth,” the use of the word ruah in that line points back to Psalm 33 and was likely intended as a double entrendre. The frozen precipitation melts due to the winds that blow over them, but even those “winds” must be correctly understood as the breath (ruah) that blows from the mouth of God as he speaks. Snow, frost, and hail serve as visual and vivid reminders that God’s rule remains active and present in the world.
He has revealed his word. The final two lines of Psalm 147 shift the focus from the role of God’s word in ordering the world (vv. 15–18) to the role of God’s word in governing his people (vv. 19–20). In addition to “word” (dabar), the psalmist also refers to the “laws” (hoq) and “decrees” (mishpatim) in this section; all three terms function as synonyms for torah in Psalm 119 (cf. Ps 119:5–8, 9). Although they were scattered exiles (Ps 147:2b) who were wounded, broken, and poor (vv. 3, 6), their world is not disordered. To the contrary, the psalmist reminds them, God has given his “word” (dabar) to Israel, and it is that word which will order their lives. Even as God’s word orders the meteorological phenomena around them, so God’s “laws” (hoq) and “decrees” (mishpatim) structure their world. More than simply reminding Israel of her covenantal obligations, God’s “word” (dabar) reminds them of the one with whom they are in covenant, namely, the Divine King.9
Bridging Contexts
HUMAN POWER DOES NOT IMPRESS GOD. The second strophe concludes with a comment related to human power (vv. 10–11). The psalmist confesses that Yahweh is the one who names the stars (v. 4) and overseas the phenomena of creation (vv. 8–9, 15–18); he is the one who stands over all creation as the Divine King. Given his status as all-powerful, one might assume that Yahweh seeks followers who exhibit a similar characteristic and, in some way, reflect that type of dominant power. Yet Yahweh explicitly rejects power for power’s sake. The “strength of the horse” and the legs of the mighty do little to impress Yahweh. To the contrary, Yahweh has chosen the humble and poor (v. 6), the brokenhearted and wounded. He has chosen those who fear him and place their hope in him, not themselves.
God’s choice of the humble and poor is not limited to the Old Testament. In Matthew 11 Jesus explains to the disciples that God has hidden things from the “wise and learned” and instead revealed them to the “little children.” In referring to the “little children,” Jesus uses the Greek word nēpios, which often refers to infants (Matt 11:25). In the ancient GrecoRoman world, infants were considered expendable and of little worth, while the most valued people were the wise and the learned—those with power. Jesus declares that God did not choose the wise and learned to accomplish his work in the world but instead chose those of seemingly little worth, yet in that choice the nature of God is revealed.
Paul also knew something of this counter-cultural surprise. In his first letter to the church at Corinth he declared, “For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Cor 1:18). Later in that same chapter (vv. 26–28a) Paul says to the church,
Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world.
Although not a formal “hymn of praise,” Paul’s words echo such a sentiment. God is to be praised because his logic runs counter to that of the world. God in his power chose that which is weak to proclaim Christ crucified, “a stumbling block” to some, but testimony of the very power and wisdom of God (vv. 23–24).
God’s power in the world. Psalm 147 weaves together three prominent themes in Israel’s theological confession: God’s power in creation, God’s power in deliverance, and God’s power through his word. Other psalms give considerable attention to God’s work in creation (e.g., Pss 19; 104), and others still to his power to deliver in Israel’s history (e.g., Pss 107; 135–36); frequently, these two themes are wedded. God delivers because he is the “Maker of heaven and earth,” and because he stands over all creation as its maker, he intervenes in history to deliver his people. To these two themes Psalm 147 adds a third—Yahweh’s word.
In the postexilic period Israel likely pondered God’s presence in the world and, much more, his governance of the same. The events of the exile and the subsequent restoration likely called into question much of what Israel had confessed regarding God’s sovereignty over the world. In response, the postexilic community sought to reaffirm the power of God by declaring him the “the God of heaven” (cf. Ps 115), the one who stands over all creation. Yet in doing so they also ran the risk of declaring Yahweh an absentee potentate who was only marginally, if at all, interactive with his creation and his people. Psalm 147 silences this concern by declaring that God remains intimately involved in the world via his word. God’s word orders all creation (vv. 8–9, 15–18), but even more, his word shapes his people (vv. 19–20).
These three themes—God’s power in creation, God’s power in deliverance, and God’s power through his word—find their counterpart in the New Testament. In the prologue to the Gospel of John, creation, deliverance, and the word are intermingled anew, thereby declaring God’s power and, even more, reinforcing God’s redemptive activity both in the world and in its behalf. In his classic work Evangelical Theology: An Introduction, Karl Barth writes of God,
He exists neither next to man nor merely above him, but rather with him, by him, and most important of all, for him. He is man’s God not only as Lord, but also has father, brother, friend and this relationship implies neither diminution nor in any way a denial, but instead confirmation and display of his divine essence. “I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and humble spirit . . .” (Isa 57:15). This he does in the history of his deeds. A God who confronted man simply as exalted, distant and strange, that is, a divinity without humanity, could only be the God of dysangelion, of “bad news,” instead of “good news.”10
The Gospel of John explains that “in the beginning was the Word” and that, through the Word, “all things were made” (John 1:3). But the Word did not remain “exalted, distant and strange”; instead, “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (v. 14). This is the God of euangelion, the God of good news.
Contemporary Significance
IN COMMENTING ON THE Final Hallel (Pss 146–50), Eugene Peterson declares that these psalms “put all the acts of God’s salvation and deliverance, his creation and providence on display and festoon them with hallelujah garlands.”11
Psalm 147 invites us to pause and think deeply on these matters—God’s salvation, his deliverance, his creation, and his providence. Because these labels capture so well the warp and woof of God’s ways in and with the world, nearly the entire biblical story falls under one or more of these headings. And this observation is no less true of Psalm 147, even as the psalmist narrows the parameters of his reflection by pausing to consider God’s warp and woof in the light of the postexilic experience. The psalmist declares God’s power by detailing moments and places in time when and where that power has been or is being manifested, whether at creation (v. 4), in creation (vv. 8–9), or among God’s people (vv. 2–3). Yet God’s exhibitions of power are far more than a divine “flexing of the muscles” meant to cause his creation to cower in fear; to the contrary, these acts are a form of euangelion, of good news. God’s power always leans toward the restoring, sustaining, and shaping of his creation.
The psalm was likely written and, likelier still, to have been read in a time when restoration seemed all but impossible, yet the psalmist confesses that nothing is impossible with God (Jer 32:27; Luke 1:37). Jerusalem was being rebuilt, the city gate being strengthened, and the land returning to its fecundity. And the exiles who returned, those who were brokenhearted and wounded—they too would experience the restorative work of God in their lives; through his power he would bind them up and sustain them. Yet this restorative work of God among his people is always heard alongside God’s sustaining work in creation. God provides the rain that waters the earth that feeds the animals, and God guides the meteorological events in nature, yet all without fanfare and with little notice. James Mays suggests that these confessions of God’s care for his people and the world appear to create an “indiscriminate montage,” but in fact, together, they are much more.12
Although they seem only tangentially related, they are in reality inextricably linked. The God who cares for creation is the same God who binds up the wounded and rebuilds the city. And the God who faithfully sends his word (Ps 147:15b) so that nature might fulfill its God-appointed task is the God who sends his word so that his people might also fulfill their role as God’s covenantal partner: “He has done this for no other nation” (v. 20a).
The God who sends his word to order and sustain creation is the God who continues to come to us in his word, and in the Word, so that we too might be ordered and sustained by the very power of God that is at work in the world. Because he continues to come to us, because he continues to sustain us, and because he continues to shape us, we are invited to praise the Lord.
