Original Meaning
The “Why” Question (74:1–3)
AMONG THE MOST POWERFUL CRIES of the Old Testament laments are the often-repeated questions “why?” (lamah) and “how long?” (ad mah). That both of these questions appear in Psalm 74 (see vv. 1, 9–11) reflects the darkness, insecurity, doubt, and uncertainty God’s people felt during the period of the exile. That which was most important to them, both in terms of national identity and the practice of their faith, had been removed and destroyed. At that time it genuinely seemed that Yahweh had turned his back on his people, and the communal psalms of lament found in Book 3 of the Psalter indicate that reciting such psalms—the people together offering their honest prayers of complaint—was a means of coping with this incomprehensible disaster (see also Pss 78, 80, 83, and, perhaps most powerfully, 89). They asked the hard questions because they knew that ignoring them would never lead to a resolution of their present tragic situation.
O God, why have you rejected us forever? Note once again the forceful directness of the psalmist. This tone is a familiar one throughout the book of Psalms but one that is often alien to us. The poet refused to accept that the current circumstances of the people of God could be attributed to the vagaries of international politics in that day. It may well have been the Babylonian armies who ransacked the temple, but the psalmist was well aware that ultimately God was in control. To ask “why have you rejected us forever” could indicate the doubts that arose among the people of God with the lengthy passage of time in exile. Seventy years is a long time by anyone’s standards, but it appears that the Judeans in Babylon only became aware of Jeremiah’s prophecy regarding the length of the exile toward the end of their period in captivity (Dan 9:1–2). There are also indications from the prophetic texts around the time of the exile that the people feared the seventy years had passed, yet they remained in captivity (Zech 1:12).2
So the psalmist’s prayer may reflect his (and the people’s) fears over the passage of time without any change in their circumstances. But the question may also be a reference to the totality of destruction that confronted the people in the fall of Jerusalem. Although the word
netsah (translated “forever” in the NIV) normally refers to duration and the passage of time, it can also refer to extent; hence, Eaton translates this verse, “Why, O God, have you so utterly rejected us?”3
Either way, this opening verse reflects the desolate feeling of abandonment experienced by the exiled people.
Why does your anger smolder against the sheep of your pasture? The pain of God’s rejection of his people is accentuated by their recollection of their own identity as a flock under the care of Yahweh. The metaphor of the shepherd speaks of provision, protection, and guidance (cf. Ps 80:1). By stark contrast, however, the people presently experience rejection (Ps 74:1a) and divine anger. In the ancient Near East, one of the main responsibilities of the shepherd would be to protect the flock from its natural enemies (e.g., wolves, bears, lions). It was patently obvious to the psalmist that in this particular area of shepherding responsibility, Yahweh had chosen not to meet the duty of care expected by his “flock.” At the same time, the poet knew that their plight was not the result of divine inability. It was God’s active punishment that had led them into exile rather than the relative power of the Babylonian armies. The imagery of God’s anger “smoldering” paints a picture that speaks both of the destructive power God used in rebuking his people and also of the hiddenness of God’s way (see Ps 80:4).4
The cry of Psalm 74:1 is an emotive expression of confusion and despair. The people see a hopeless future and find it difficult to come to terms with their God’s continued anger with them.
Remember the nation you purchased long ago. As is so often the way in the Psalms, despair leads to prayer. The plaintive cry “why?” turns to appeal that this same God should “remember” and return (vv. 2–3). The language of verse 2 is reminiscent of the events of the exodus from Egypt. The exodus is often described in terms of Yahweh’s “remembering” his covenant and his people and, based on that remembrance, working purposefully for their liberation from captivity (e.g., see Exod 2:24; 6:5). In fact, God’s “remembering” his people becomes something of a shorthand for his powerful answering of prayer in the Old Testament (e.g., 1 Sam 1:11–20). So the psalmist’s call to “remember” is actually an appeal that God would hear and respond to the prayers that follow in Psalm 74. The reminder that they are also his people from “long ago” is designed to call to mind the long track record between Yahweh and his people. The implication is that there are responsibilities that accompany such long-standing ties.5
The association with the liberating work of the exodus is accentuated by the way the psalmist describes the covenant community. He refers to them as a people who were “purchased long ago” and as a people whom “you redeemed.” The combination of “purchased” (qanita) and “redeemed” (ga’alta) resonates with the language of the Song of Moses (Exod 15:13, 16, 17), a poem that celebrates the salvific work of Yahweh in bringing his people out of captivity. It is not accidental that the psalmist chooses this terminology to remind God of his relationship with his people. Yahweh has brought Israel out of foreign captivity with great signs of his power once before, and the psalmist’s call to remember is a prayer that he will do so again. What is more, Psalm 74:2 actually refers to “your congregation [‘adateka] that you purchased of old” (author’s translation.) In the release of the exodus, Yahweh did not just create for himself a people but actually formed a worshiping community. The prayer of the psalmist is grounded in the fact that they are now a worshiping community robbed of their place of worship. The poet’s additional plea that God should remember “Mount Zion, where you dwelt,” as well as remembering his people, is a request that Yahweh would resolve this tension for his worshiping community who can no longer worship as ordained because of the circumstances of the exile.
Turn your steps towards these everlasting ruins. This unusual phrase seems to be an invitation to the absent God to return to his former dwelling in order to inspect the ruins. Of course, the irony of verses 1–3 is that Yahweh’s anger burns against his flock and not against his/their enemy! The enemies of Judah have become the instruments of Yahweh in the outworking of his purposes for his people. This concept would be almost beyond comprehension for the psalmist and God’s community. The temple was so associated with the name and presence of Yahweh that the thought of his withdrawal from it and the subsequent destruction of the temple were almost beyond belief for the Old Testament people of God.6
But the poet is all too aware that God has not only allowed these events to occur but was also proactive in bringing them about. We should not imagine that the psalmist was unaware of the causes of the Babylonian exile. Much as in the book of Lamentations, the fact that the exile resulted from the people’s constant failure to respond to God’s correction is assumed in Ps 74 rather than explicitly discussed. The point of the psalmist’s prayer is not to debate the appropriateness of God’s punishment. It is rather to plead for mercy in the face of continued suffering and confusion. The language of “purchase” and “redemption” is associated with God’s grace in the exodus. These words conjure up memories of God’s past liberation of his people based solely in his covenant love. So, Psalm 74 is a plea for the renewal of this unmerited grace rather than a deliberation over the equities or inequities of the events that resulted in the exile.
Bridging Contexts
TEMPLE AND HOLY SPACE. One of the challenges in reading Psalm 74 is determining how we should respond to the temple theology and the ideas of “holy space” that we see in such psalms. Jerusalem was seen as the “city of God” (Ps 46:4), and the most holy place within the temple was, in a sense, seen as the place where God’s presence dwelt on earth (1 Kgs 8:22–66). Of course, the Israelites were fully aware that God could not be contained by any building (1 Kgs 8:27); however, they also believed that there was a special sense in which God did make himself present in the temple (2 Chr 7:1). So it is completely understandable that the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple were cataclysmic events for the psalmist and the Old Testament community of faith. For the proper worship of God, pilgrimage festivals had been ordained, and they had to be held in the central sanctuary (Deut 16); sacrifices for the forgiveness of sin could only take place in the temple (2 Chr 2:1–6); and it was a place where God’s people could meet with him in a special sense (Ps 48).
The concept of holy space has been entirely transformed by the coming of Christ. The New Testament describes the recontextualization of the concept of the temple by Jesus and the New Testament writers. The Old Testament concepts of temple and holy space were inextricably linked with a physical site in Jerusalem. Going to an actual place was an essential part of the Old Testament worship schema, but Jesus transformed ideas of the divine presence on earth through the incarnation. In Christ, God literally comes to dwell on earth with humanity. He is present in the midst of his people in a way that was previously unimaginable. Since the coming of Christ to dwell among humanity, the notion of temple has been transformed. Now, rather than referring to a physical place to which believers must make a pilgrimage, the concept of temple has been spiritualized.
The idea of temple has two connotations in the Christian era. First, Jesus likens himself (his own body) to the temple in John 2:19–22. In doing so, he is pointing to the ultimate act of sacrifice that he was about to accomplish on the cross, thus vitiating the need for the sacrificial work of the temple. Speaking of these verses Gary Burge comments, “Jesus is predicting his death and resurrection, which will create a new covenant with God and make the services of the Jerusalem temple obsolete.”25
Jesus goes even further in his conversation with the Samaritan woman in John 4. Part of the discussion centers on this question of locus—that is, where does true worship take place? The Samaritans believed that Mount Gerizim, at the foot of which Abraham had first built an altar to the Lord upon entry into the land (Gen 12:7), was a holy site where people could meet with God in a special way (John 4:19–20). Jesus makes it clear that the Samaritans were wrong in their belief (v. 22), but he goes on to make a fascinating comment that transforms the whole question of holy space. Verses 21–24 read:
“Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. . . . a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”
So the Messiah points to a time after his death when the need for a specific holy place is removed and to the fact that those who truly worship God will worship him in a spiritual manner. These words would have been shocking for both the Jewish and Samaritan communities of faith! In the coming of Christ, the very nature of religious practice is revolutionized. God, at that time, had quite literally come to dwell on earth, so a special place for a meeting with him becomes redundant. Since that time, God dwells spiritually on the earth with his people through his Holy Spirit, so the concept of sanctuary or holy space is magnified to encompass the whole earth, at least wherever his people are present. The need for sacrifice is removed in Christ, and the need for a place of intermediary representation is also removed by his association with humanity and his constant intercession in our behalf (Heb 4:14–16; 7:23–28).
Second, Paul makes it clear that the “dwelling place” of God on earth is now to be found in his church. Even in the Old Testament period everyone acknowledged that God could not be contained within one geographic space—he is always present everywhere. The same is true in the Christian era. In one sense God is present absolutely everywhere, but the place where he dwells in a special sense is now in the midst of his people wherever they gather. First Corinthians 3:16–17 describes the church universal, and by implication particular congregations of God’s people, as the new temple, where it is possible to meet with God in a heightened sense. “Just as Jewish and pagan temples were believed to be the dwelling place of God (or the gods), so also the Christian fellowship is the special place of the Spirit’s presence.”26
We see in the Christian era, therefore, the transformation of the idea of temple and holy space. Aspects of this Old Testament theology are consummated in Christ, and other aspects are expanded by the spiritualizing work of Christ. That believers can meet with God anywhere and worship him fully was true under the old covenant (1 Kgs 8:27–30), but it is all the more true because of the completed sacrificial work of Jesus.27
Also, the place where God’s presence dwells “especially” on the earth is in the midst of his people. In a very real sense, wherever people gather to worship God, he is present, and the opportunity to meet with him intensifies.28
Alternative worldviews. It is interesting to note that the psalmist adopts the terminology of a worldview that is not his own in order to make a particular theological point. Verses 13–14 speak of Yahweh in terms of Canaanite creation mythologies by describing him as the High God who overcomes the forces of chaos personified by the sea and sea monsters. Why is it that the poet chooses to adopt the concepts and language of a religious worldview that the covenant community would hold to be false? Is the psalmist actually saying that God did, in fact, create the world in this way? Psalm 74 does not run counter to the creation narratives of Genesis 1–2; rather, it adopts language and imagery that would have been common currency to the readers of the day in order to make a particular theological point that was relevant to the psalmist’s purpose in writing the poem. The Old Testament community of faith felt under such pressure from the “chaos” of current events that they wanted to remind themselves (and God) in their liturgy that he is the one who overcame all “chaos” in the act of creation and, therefore, is the one who is able to overcome all chaos in their present circumstance.29
There are some overlaps with the imagery of the ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies in the Genesis 1–2 creation accounts—so many, in fact, that some scholars have considered these connections to be examples of Chaoskampf in the Old Testament creation account. Having said so, it is now generally acknowledged that the Old Testament’s connections with “chaos ideologies” regarding the formation of the universe are much more understated than the ancient Near Eastern equivalents. We do see that initially the created order was tohu wabohu (“formless and empty”) and “darkness was over the surface of the deep” (Gen 1:2). This picture does present the idea of God’s overcoming the unformed chaos by his command, but it is far removed from the rebellious forces of chaos personified as sea gods or sea monsters in the creation myths of Israel’s neighbors. Equally, Genesis 1:21 points to God’s creation of the “great creatures of the sea”—again, imagery that bears some similarity to the alternative creation accounts—but, as before, the similarities are fairly superficial. The sea monsters do not compete with God in some sort of cosmic battle; rather, they are created by him and therefore entirely under his control. In fact, these similarities of language and imagery, but differences of content and ideology, illustrate the fact that the Genesis 1–2 creation account probably serves as a polemic against the alternative cosmogonies of the ancient world. The imagery of the Old Testament’s creation narrative cannot really be described as Chaoskampf because there is no obvious sign of struggle (Kampf). In the mind of the Old Testament writers, there was no conflict in creation because there is no power comparable to that of Yahweh’s creative word.30
The psalmist adopts a similar approach in Psalm 74. He makes use of imagery that would be familiar to his hearers in order to make a particular point without implying that the alternative creation account has any authoritative status or factual accuracy. The sea monsters and dragons would be understood by his readers as shorthand for forces of chaos. The Hebrews in exile (and even in the postexilic period) would see their own lives as being shrouded in such chaos. The image of the Creator God who overcomes chaos, therefore, is one that would speak powerfully to them. Liturgically, these verses would be an encouragement to the exilic community. In prayer, these words serve as a reminder to God of his foundational character, thus voicing the expectation of the people that he will work in accordance with his nature.31
Psalm 74 in the New Testament. While we find no direct citations from or allusions to Psalm 74, clearly the whole concept of the temple as holy space is one that undergoes quite a transformation in the New Testament (see the above discussion, pp. 90–93).
Contemporary Significance
SEEING THE WORLD THEOLOGICALLY. We saw in our study of Psalm 73 that the way in which we view and respond to life is often shaped by our perspectives on it. The poet who wrote Psalm 74 had a relentlessly theological perspective on life.32
Together with the author of the book of Lamentations, the psalmist looks beyond the outward circumstances of life to see God’s hand at work in the events that he and his fellows were experiencing. It would have been very easy for the psalmist to focus on the destructive power of the armies of Babylon or the political weakness of Judah in his day, but instead he realizes that the events experienced in the exile had a theological root rather than a geopolitical one.
Jesus himself serves as an example of this type of thinking. In John 19:10–11 Pilate thinks that he has authority and control in his confrontation with Jesus, but even in the most trying of circumstances the Messiah sees things from the perspective of theological reality rather than political reality. “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above” (v. 11a). Jesus was fully aware of the spiritual reality at work behind the current, traumatic events of his own life. He saw beyond the physical and consciously viewed things theologically.
Do we do the same in our own day and reality? As we read the newspapers and watch 24-hour news channels, do we look beyond the tangible scheme of things and ask how God is at work in the events of our time and our nations? It may be hard for us to discern just how God’s hand is at work in the (often traumatic) events of our own experience, so—as with Psalm 74—this practice is one best worked out communally in our congregations of faith. Challenging as it may be, however, we should practice such discernment. We should ask God to reveal to us how and where he is at work in our own situations and, also, ask what role he would have us play as his people in this generation.
Remembering the character of God. Another important line of application to be drawn from Psalm 74 is the psalmist’s insistent belief that the God to whom he prays works in human history. The poet points to the great works of God in the creation of the universe and reminds himself that his prayer is directed to this Creator God who has worked in the creation of human history and who still works in human history today. We must ask ourselves whether or not our prayers actually reflect the fact that we pray to the one who made everything we see around us. Our intercession is directed to a God of incomparable power, so our prayers should be marked by faith of a similar magnitude. I fear that often our prayers do not reflect the fact that “our God is a great, big God.”33
Rather, it seems to me that, were a stranger who had no idea about Christianity to listen to our prayers, he would think that we actually believe in a God of limited power—a God who is able to provide “journeying mercies” and “bless” all sorts of people and events, certainly, but perhaps not the Creator of all things who is able radically to transform the world in which we live. The author of Psalm 74 clearly believed in such a God, and his prayer echoed his belief. Our prayer should echo our belief in the God who “crushed the heads of Leviathan” and who “established the sun and moon.”
God’s anger and today’s church. We should not think that God’s anger against his covenant people is something that is limited to the Old Testament and the people of the wilderness experience or the exile. The story of the exile in Babylon makes it clear that he will use the means necessary to enable us to walk well with him. Sometimes our stubbornness and unwillingness to submit will mean that God will use measures that are difficult or unpleasant for us in order to help and enable us to receive the blessing that results from walking in his ways. We should not deceive ourselves into believing that God no longer works in this way today! Peter makes it clear that the Christian church is every bit as liable to God’s corrective redirection as was Israel in the Old Testament. First Peter 4:17 makes it plain that sometimes judgment begins with the family of God, so the church today needs to be aware of the multitude of means God uses to bring about his will and our obedience to his purposes in the world.
Original Meaning
Destruction and Doubt (74:4–9)
YOUR FOES ROARED IN THE PLACE WHERE YOU MET WITH US. Here we see another aspect of lament that is somewhat strange to us. Essentially, the psalmist is declaring to Yahweh things that he already knows. The psalmist makes this presentation as though God were unaware of the events that had occurred! He is telling God about all the unbelievably horrible things that happened in the temple because, surely, if God were aware of them he would do something to rectify the situation. Of course, the poet does not really believe that the Creator is unaware, but from his perspective he cannot comprehend why God allowed these things to happen, and his recapitulation of these destructive acts is designed to stir into action the God who previously met with his people in that now desolate temple. From the perspective of the psalmist and the community of faith, it is as though Yahweh were unaware of the true significance of the events that had taken place and needed to be awakened to their significance through prayer.7
This stanza points to the great offence perpetrated by Judah’s enemies in their assault on the temple. They roared like animals in a place designed for worship; they set up their military standards in the temple (most likely, emblems that proclaimed their victory over God’s people and the victory of their god over Yahweh);8
they destroyed all the wooden paneling in the temple like woodsmen chopping down a forest; and, ultimately, they burned the edifice to the ground. The visible symbol of God’s presence on earth had been destroyed . . . yet he had done nothing in response! The psalmist’s account of this destruction reflects his amazement. There is a real sense in which even the retelling of these events would have been absolutely staggering for the poet and the people. According to the Zion theology of the Psalter, the very stability of the world order is founded on the immovability of Yahweh’s temple in Jerusalem.9
Yet the sanctuary, the symbol of an immanent God, has been removed, and the people are faced with nothing but silence in response.10
We are given no signs from God. This statement could be another reference to the exodus, thus completing the psalmist’s description of the people’s present calamity. God’s liberating work on behalf of his people by freeing them from slavery in Egypt was accompanied by his “miraculous signs” (otot [Exod 10:1–2]), and now the exiled community of faith awaits liberation from Babylon, yet no miraculous signs are worked in their behalf. “Why so?” is the psalmist’s confused plea.11
The lack of “signs,” however, may also refer to the silence of God in response to the fall of Jerusalem. The same word is also used of prophetic oracles in the Old Testament (e.g., see Isa 38:7; Jer 44:29), and it is possible that the poet completes his lament by saying, “We have suffered so much, yet you remain silent!” There are no prophetic signs providing hope for the future. What is more, there are no prophets left declaring the will of God, and the people have no idea for how long this state of affairs will continue (v.9).12
“The people’s isolation reaches critical proportions. Even communication with God, which was accomplished by means of the prophetic oracles, has been severed (v. 9; see Lam 2:9, ‘her prophets obtain no vision from the Lord’). The complaint reflects God’s silence.”13
The suffering of a worshiping people who cannot worship is compounded by their belief in an immanent God who refuses to speak to them.
Bridging Contexts
TEMPLE AND HOLY SPACE. One of the challenges in reading Psalm 74 is determining how we should respond to the temple theology and the ideas of “holy space” that we see in such psalms. Jerusalem was seen as the “city of God” (Ps 46:4), and the most holy place within the temple was, in a sense, seen as the place where God’s presence dwelt on earth (1 Kgs 8:22–66). Of course, the Israelites were fully aware that God could not be contained by any building (1 Kgs 8:27); however, they also believed that there was a special sense in which God did make himself present in the temple (2 Chr 7:1). So it is completely understandable that the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple were cataclysmic events for the psalmist and the Old Testament community of faith. For the proper worship of God, pilgrimage festivals had been ordained, and they had to be held in the central sanctuary (Deut 16); sacrifices for the forgiveness of sin could only take place in the temple (2 Chr 2:1–6); and it was a place where God’s people could meet with him in a special sense (Ps 48).
The concept of holy space has been entirely transformed by the coming of Christ. The New Testament describes the recontextualization of the concept of the temple by Jesus and the New Testament writers. The Old Testament concepts of temple and holy space were inextricably linked with a physical site in Jerusalem. Going to an actual place was an essential part of the Old Testament worship schema, but Jesus transformed ideas of the divine presence on earth through the incarnation. In Christ, God literally comes to dwell on earth with humanity. He is present in the midst of his people in a way that was previously unimaginable. Since the coming of Christ to dwell among humanity, the notion of temple has been transformed. Now, rather than referring to a physical place to which believers must make a pilgrimage, the concept of temple has been spiritualized.
The idea of temple has two connotations in the Christian era. First, Jesus likens himself (his own body) to the temple in John 2:19–22. In doing so, he is pointing to the ultimate act of sacrifice that he was about to accomplish on the cross, thus vitiating the need for the sacrificial work of the temple. Speaking of these verses Gary Burge comments, “Jesus is predicting his death and resurrection, which will create a new covenant with God and make the services of the Jerusalem temple obsolete.”25
Jesus goes even further in his conversation with the Samaritan woman in John 4. Part of the discussion centers on this question of locus—that is, where does true worship take place? The Samaritans believed that Mount Gerizim, at the foot of which Abraham had first built an altar to the Lord upon entry into the land (Gen 12:7), was a holy site where people could meet with God in a special way (John 4:19–20). Jesus makes it clear that the Samaritans were wrong in their belief (v. 22), but he goes on to make a fascinating comment that transforms the whole question of holy space. Verses 21–24 read:
“Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. . . . a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”
So the Messiah points to a time after his death when the need for a specific holy place is removed and to the fact that those who truly worship God will worship him in a spiritual manner. These words would have been shocking for both the Jewish and Samaritan communities of faith! In the coming of Christ, the very nature of religious practice is revolutionized. God, at that time, had quite literally come to dwell on earth, so a special place for a meeting with him becomes redundant. Since that time, God dwells spiritually on the earth with his people through his Holy Spirit, so the concept of sanctuary or holy space is magnified to encompass the whole earth, at least wherever his people are present. The need for sacrifice is removed in Christ, and the need for a place of intermediary representation is also removed by his association with humanity and his constant intercession in our behalf (Heb 4:14–16; 7:23–28).
Second, Paul makes it clear that the “dwelling place” of God on earth is now to be found in his church. Even in the Old Testament period everyone acknowledged that God could not be contained within one geographic space—he is always present everywhere. The same is true in the Christian era. In one sense God is present absolutely everywhere, but the place where he dwells in a special sense is now in the midst of his people wherever they gather. First Corinthians 3:16–17 describes the church universal, and by implication particular congregations of God’s people, as the new temple, where it is possible to meet with God in a heightened sense. “Just as Jewish and pagan temples were believed to be the dwelling place of God (or the gods), so also the Christian fellowship is the special place of the Spirit’s presence.”26
We see in the Christian era, therefore, the transformation of the idea of temple and holy space. Aspects of this Old Testament theology are consummated in Christ, and other aspects are expanded by the spiritualizing work of Christ. That believers can meet with God anywhere and worship him fully was true under the old covenant (1 Kgs 8:27–30), but it is all the more true because of the completed sacrificial work of Jesus.27
Also, the place where God’s presence dwells “especially” on the earth is in the midst of his people. In a very real sense, wherever people gather to worship God, he is present, and the opportunity to meet with him intensifies.28
Alternative worldviews. It is interesting to note that the psalmist adopts the terminology of a worldview that is not his own in order to make a particular theological point. Verses 13–14 speak of Yahweh in terms of Canaanite creation mythologies by describing him as the High God who overcomes the forces of chaos personified by the sea and sea monsters. Why is it that the poet chooses to adopt the concepts and language of a religious worldview that the covenant community would hold to be false? Is the psalmist actually saying that God did, in fact, create the world in this way? Psalm 74 does not run counter to the creation narratives of Genesis 1–2; rather, it adopts language and imagery that would have been common currency to the readers of the day in order to make a particular theological point that was relevant to the psalmist’s purpose in writing the poem. The Old Testament community of faith felt under such pressure from the “chaos” of current events that they wanted to remind themselves (and God) in their liturgy that he is the one who overcame all “chaos” in the act of creation and, therefore, is the one who is able to overcome all chaos in their present circumstance.29
There are some overlaps with the imagery of the ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies in the Genesis 1–2 creation accounts—so many, in fact, that some scholars have considered these connections to be examples of Chaoskampf in the Old Testament creation account. Having said so, it is now generally acknowledged that the Old Testament’s connections with “chaos ideologies” regarding the formation of the universe are much more understated than the ancient Near Eastern equivalents. We do see that initially the created order was tohu wabohu (“formless and empty”) and “darkness was over the surface of the deep” (Gen 1:2). This picture does present the idea of God’s overcoming the unformed chaos by his command, but it is far removed from the rebellious forces of chaos personified as sea gods or sea monsters in the creation myths of Israel’s neighbors. Equally, Genesis 1:21 points to God’s creation of the “great creatures of the sea”—again, imagery that bears some similarity to the alternative creation accounts—but, as before, the similarities are fairly superficial. The sea monsters do not compete with God in some sort of cosmic battle; rather, they are created by him and therefore entirely under his control. In fact, these similarities of language and imagery, but differences of content and ideology, illustrate the fact that the Genesis 1–2 creation account probably serves as a polemic against the alternative cosmogonies of the ancient world. The imagery of the Old Testament’s creation narrative cannot really be described as Chaoskampf because there is no obvious sign of struggle (Kampf). In the mind of the Old Testament writers, there was no conflict in creation because there is no power comparable to that of Yahweh’s creative word.30
The psalmist adopts a similar approach in Psalm 74. He makes use of imagery that would be familiar to his hearers in order to make a particular point without implying that the alternative creation account has any authoritative status or factual accuracy. The sea monsters and dragons would be understood by his readers as shorthand for forces of chaos. The Hebrews in exile (and even in the postexilic period) would see their own lives as being shrouded in such chaos. The image of the Creator God who overcomes chaos, therefore, is one that would speak powerfully to them. Liturgically, these verses would be an encouragement to the exilic community. In prayer, these words serve as a reminder to God of his foundational character, thus voicing the expectation of the people that he will work in accordance with his nature.31
Psalm 74 in the New Testament. While we find no direct citations from or allusions to Psalm 74, clearly the whole concept of the temple as holy space is one that undergoes quite a transformation in the New Testament (see the above discussion, pp. 90–93).
Contemporary Significance
SEEING THE WORLD THEOLOGICALLY. We saw in our study of Psalm 73 that the way in which we view and respond to life is often shaped by our perspectives on it. The poet who wrote Psalm 74 had a relentlessly theological perspective on life.32
Together with the author of the book of Lamentations, the psalmist looks beyond the outward circumstances of life to see God’s hand at work in the events that he and his fellows were experiencing. It would have been very easy for the psalmist to focus on the destructive power of the armies of Babylon or the political weakness of Judah in his day, but instead he realizes that the events experienced in the exile had a theological root rather than a geopolitical one.
Jesus himself serves as an example of this type of thinking. In John 19:10–11 Pilate thinks that he has authority and control in his confrontation with Jesus, but even in the most trying of circumstances the Messiah sees things from the perspective of theological reality rather than political reality. “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above” (v. 11a). Jesus was fully aware of the spiritual reality at work behind the current, traumatic events of his own life. He saw beyond the physical and consciously viewed things theologically.
Do we do the same in our own day and reality? As we read the newspapers and watch 24-hour news channels, do we look beyond the tangible scheme of things and ask how God is at work in the events of our time and our nations? It may be hard for us to discern just how God’s hand is at work in the (often traumatic) events of our own experience, so—as with Psalm 74—this practice is one best worked out communally in our congregations of faith. Challenging as it may be, however, we should practice such discernment. We should ask God to reveal to us how and where he is at work in our own situations and, also, ask what role he would have us play as his people in this generation.
Remembering the character of God. Another important line of application to be drawn from Psalm 74 is the psalmist’s insistent belief that the God to whom he prays works in human history. The poet points to the great works of God in the creation of the universe and reminds himself that his prayer is directed to this Creator God who has worked in the creation of human history and who still works in human history today. We must ask ourselves whether or not our prayers actually reflect the fact that we pray to the one who made everything we see around us. Our intercession is directed to a God of incomparable power, so our prayers should be marked by faith of a similar magnitude. I fear that often our prayers do not reflect the fact that “our God is a great, big God.”33
Rather, it seems to me that, were a stranger who had no idea about Christianity to listen to our prayers, he would think that we actually believe in a God of limited power—a God who is able to provide “journeying mercies” and “bless” all sorts of people and events, certainly, but perhaps not the Creator of all things who is able radically to transform the world in which we live. The author of Psalm 74 clearly believed in such a God, and his prayer echoed his belief. Our prayer should echo our belief in the God who “crushed the heads of Leviathan” and who “established the sun and moon.”
God’s anger and today’s church. We should not think that God’s anger against his covenant people is something that is limited to the Old Testament and the people of the wilderness experience or the exile. The story of the exile in Babylon makes it clear that he will use the means necessary to enable us to walk well with him. Sometimes our stubbornness and unwillingness to submit will mean that God will use measures that are difficult or unpleasant for us in order to help and enable us to receive the blessing that results from walking in his ways. We should not deceive ourselves into believing that God no longer works in this way today! Peter makes it clear that the Christian church is every bit as liable to God’s corrective redirection as was Israel in the Old Testament. First Peter 4:17 makes it plain that sometimes judgment begins with the family of God, so the church today needs to be aware of the multitude of means God uses to bring about his will and our obedience to his purposes in the world.
Original Meaning
How Long? (74:10–11)
HOW LONG WILL THE ENEMY MOCK YOU, GOD? Since no one in the congregation of God’s people knows the duration of their suffering, the psalmist is forced to fire this question at God. Again, his complaint is voiced as though Yahweh were unaware of all that was going on in those days. In asking “How long?” the psalmist is also saying, “Do you not realize that you are being mocked by nations that worship other gods?” There is an obvious pathos in the prayer of verses 10–11 inasmuch as the psalmist is aware of the true nature of Yahweh, the Creator and Sustainer of the whole universe (vv. 12–17), yet daily he must hear the mocking voice of the Babylonians who would treat Yahweh as a weak and insignificant provincial deity. The poet offers his prayer because he knows that Yahweh is powerful to respond. He is jealous for God’s name—yet God himself does not seem to be so. The psalmist’s confusion is palpable, and it is made worse by the open-ended chronology of this situation. For how much longer must they wait?
Why do you hold back your hand, your right hand? Yahweh’s inactivity is a complete mystery to the poet. The writer is fully aware that God is capable of acting. He knows that the Creator is more than powerful enough to free them from captivity in exile and is able to hush the mocking of their captors by his powerful right hand. Knowing that Yahweh is capable of acting makes his inactivity all the more inexplicable from the psalmist’s perspective. The image of Yahweh as hiding his hand in the folds of his garment is the exact opposite of his activity in the exodus (Exod 15:6). His right hand “shattered the enemy” to free the people from Egyptian bondage, but now God refuses to stretch out his hand to end their Babylonian captivity. This creedal awareness of what God had done in the formation of his worshiping community rubs salt into the wounds of their present experience. If God did harder things in the past on behalf of a previous generation, why will he not act now in behalf of this present generation? It is a question that is genuinely burdensome to the psalmist, hence the angst of his psalm of lament. Surely Yahweh should prove his true character and powerful being to these insolent enemies, should he not?14
Bridging Contexts
TEMPLE AND HOLY SPACE. One of the challenges in reading Psalm 74 is determining how we should respond to the temple theology and the ideas of “holy space” that we see in such psalms. Jerusalem was seen as the “city of God” (Ps 46:4), and the most holy place within the temple was, in a sense, seen as the place where God’s presence dwelt on earth (1 Kgs 8:22–66). Of course, the Israelites were fully aware that God could not be contained by any building (1 Kgs 8:27); however, they also believed that there was a special sense in which God did make himself present in the temple (2 Chr 7:1). So it is completely understandable that the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple were cataclysmic events for the psalmist and the Old Testament community of faith. For the proper worship of God, pilgrimage festivals had been ordained, and they had to be held in the central sanctuary (Deut 16); sacrifices for the forgiveness of sin could only take place in the temple (2 Chr 2:1–6); and it was a place where God’s people could meet with him in a special sense (Ps 48).
The concept of holy space has been entirely transformed by the coming of Christ. The New Testament describes the recontextualization of the concept of the temple by Jesus and the New Testament writers. The Old Testament concepts of temple and holy space were inextricably linked with a physical site in Jerusalem. Going to an actual place was an essential part of the Old Testament worship schema, but Jesus transformed ideas of the divine presence on earth through the incarnation. In Christ, God literally comes to dwell on earth with humanity. He is present in the midst of his people in a way that was previously unimaginable. Since the coming of Christ to dwell among humanity, the notion of temple has been transformed. Now, rather than referring to a physical place to which believers must make a pilgrimage, the concept of temple has been spiritualized.
The idea of temple has two connotations in the Christian era. First, Jesus likens himself (his own body) to the temple in John 2:19–22. In doing so, he is pointing to the ultimate act of sacrifice that he was about to accomplish on the cross, thus vitiating the need for the sacrificial work of the temple. Speaking of these verses Gary Burge comments, “Jesus is predicting his death and resurrection, which will create a new covenant with God and make the services of the Jerusalem temple obsolete.”25
Jesus goes even further in his conversation with the Samaritan woman in John 4. Part of the discussion centers on this question of locus—that is, where does true worship take place? The Samaritans believed that Mount Gerizim, at the foot of which Abraham had first built an altar to the Lord upon entry into the land (Gen 12:7), was a holy site where people could meet with God in a special way (John 4:19–20). Jesus makes it clear that the Samaritans were wrong in their belief (v. 22), but he goes on to make a fascinating comment that transforms the whole question of holy space. Verses 21–24 read:
“Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. . . . a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”
So the Messiah points to a time after his death when the need for a specific holy place is removed and to the fact that those who truly worship God will worship him in a spiritual manner. These words would have been shocking for both the Jewish and Samaritan communities of faith! In the coming of Christ, the very nature of religious practice is revolutionized. God, at that time, had quite literally come to dwell on earth, so a special place for a meeting with him becomes redundant. Since that time, God dwells spiritually on the earth with his people through his Holy Spirit, so the concept of sanctuary or holy space is magnified to encompass the whole earth, at least wherever his people are present. The need for sacrifice is removed in Christ, and the need for a place of intermediary representation is also removed by his association with humanity and his constant intercession in our behalf (Heb 4:14–16; 7:23–28).
Second, Paul makes it clear that the “dwelling place” of God on earth is now to be found in his church. Even in the Old Testament period everyone acknowledged that God could not be contained within one geographic space—he is always present everywhere. The same is true in the Christian era. In one sense God is present absolutely everywhere, but the place where he dwells in a special sense is now in the midst of his people wherever they gather. First Corinthians 3:16–17 describes the church universal, and by implication particular congregations of God’s people, as the new temple, where it is possible to meet with God in a heightened sense. “Just as Jewish and pagan temples were believed to be the dwelling place of God (or the gods), so also the Christian fellowship is the special place of the Spirit’s presence.”26
We see in the Christian era, therefore, the transformation of the idea of temple and holy space. Aspects of this Old Testament theology are consummated in Christ, and other aspects are expanded by the spiritualizing work of Christ. That believers can meet with God anywhere and worship him fully was true under the old covenant (1 Kgs 8:27–30), but it is all the more true because of the completed sacrificial work of Jesus.27
Also, the place where God’s presence dwells “especially” on the earth is in the midst of his people. In a very real sense, wherever people gather to worship God, he is present, and the opportunity to meet with him intensifies.28
Alternative worldviews. It is interesting to note that the psalmist adopts the terminology of a worldview that is not his own in order to make a particular theological point. Verses 13–14 speak of Yahweh in terms of Canaanite creation mythologies by describing him as the High God who overcomes the forces of chaos personified by the sea and sea monsters. Why is it that the poet chooses to adopt the concepts and language of a religious worldview that the covenant community would hold to be false? Is the psalmist actually saying that God did, in fact, create the world in this way? Psalm 74 does not run counter to the creation narratives of Genesis 1–2; rather, it adopts language and imagery that would have been common currency to the readers of the day in order to make a particular theological point that was relevant to the psalmist’s purpose in writing the poem. The Old Testament community of faith felt under such pressure from the “chaos” of current events that they wanted to remind themselves (and God) in their liturgy that he is the one who overcame all “chaos” in the act of creation and, therefore, is the one who is able to overcome all chaos in their present circumstance.29
There are some overlaps with the imagery of the ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies in the Genesis 1–2 creation accounts—so many, in fact, that some scholars have considered these connections to be examples of Chaoskampf in the Old Testament creation account. Having said so, it is now generally acknowledged that the Old Testament’s connections with “chaos ideologies” regarding the formation of the universe are much more understated than the ancient Near Eastern equivalents. We do see that initially the created order was tohu wabohu (“formless and empty”) and “darkness was over the surface of the deep” (Gen 1:2). This picture does present the idea of God’s overcoming the unformed chaos by his command, but it is far removed from the rebellious forces of chaos personified as sea gods or sea monsters in the creation myths of Israel’s neighbors. Equally, Genesis 1:21 points to God’s creation of the “great creatures of the sea”—again, imagery that bears some similarity to the alternative creation accounts—but, as before, the similarities are fairly superficial. The sea monsters do not compete with God in some sort of cosmic battle; rather, they are created by him and therefore entirely under his control. In fact, these similarities of language and imagery, but differences of content and ideology, illustrate the fact that the Genesis 1–2 creation account probably serves as a polemic against the alternative cosmogonies of the ancient world. The imagery of the Old Testament’s creation narrative cannot really be described as Chaoskampf because there is no obvious sign of struggle (Kampf). In the mind of the Old Testament writers, there was no conflict in creation because there is no power comparable to that of Yahweh’s creative word.30
The psalmist adopts a similar approach in Psalm 74. He makes use of imagery that would be familiar to his hearers in order to make a particular point without implying that the alternative creation account has any authoritative status or factual accuracy. The sea monsters and dragons would be understood by his readers as shorthand for forces of chaos. The Hebrews in exile (and even in the postexilic period) would see their own lives as being shrouded in such chaos. The image of the Creator God who overcomes chaos, therefore, is one that would speak powerfully to them. Liturgically, these verses would be an encouragement to the exilic community. In prayer, these words serve as a reminder to God of his foundational character, thus voicing the expectation of the people that he will work in accordance with his nature.31
Psalm 74 in the New Testament. While we find no direct citations from or allusions to Psalm 74, clearly the whole concept of the temple as holy space is one that undergoes quite a transformation in the New Testament (see the above discussion, pp. 90–93).
Contemporary Significance
SEEING THE WORLD THEOLOGICALLY. We saw in our study of Psalm 73 that the way in which we view and respond to life is often shaped by our perspectives on it. The poet who wrote Psalm 74 had a relentlessly theological perspective on life.32
Together with the author of the book of Lamentations, the psalmist looks beyond the outward circumstances of life to see God’s hand at work in the events that he and his fellows were experiencing. It would have been very easy for the psalmist to focus on the destructive power of the armies of Babylon or the political weakness of Judah in his day, but instead he realizes that the events experienced in the exile had a theological root rather than a geopolitical one.
Jesus himself serves as an example of this type of thinking. In John 19:10–11 Pilate thinks that he has authority and control in his confrontation with Jesus, but even in the most trying of circumstances the Messiah sees things from the perspective of theological reality rather than political reality. “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above” (v. 11a). Jesus was fully aware of the spiritual reality at work behind the current, traumatic events of his own life. He saw beyond the physical and consciously viewed things theologically.
Do we do the same in our own day and reality? As we read the newspapers and watch 24-hour news channels, do we look beyond the tangible scheme of things and ask how God is at work in the events of our time and our nations? It may be hard for us to discern just how God’s hand is at work in the (often traumatic) events of our own experience, so—as with Psalm 74—this practice is one best worked out communally in our congregations of faith. Challenging as it may be, however, we should practice such discernment. We should ask God to reveal to us how and where he is at work in our own situations and, also, ask what role he would have us play as his people in this generation.
Remembering the character of God. Another important line of application to be drawn from Psalm 74 is the psalmist’s insistent belief that the God to whom he prays works in human history. The poet points to the great works of God in the creation of the universe and reminds himself that his prayer is directed to this Creator God who has worked in the creation of human history and who still works in human history today. We must ask ourselves whether or not our prayers actually reflect the fact that we pray to the one who made everything we see around us. Our intercession is directed to a God of incomparable power, so our prayers should be marked by faith of a similar magnitude. I fear that often our prayers do not reflect the fact that “our God is a great, big God.”33
Rather, it seems to me that, were a stranger who had no idea about Christianity to listen to our prayers, he would think that we actually believe in a God of limited power—a God who is able to provide “journeying mercies” and “bless” all sorts of people and events, certainly, but perhaps not the Creator of all things who is able radically to transform the world in which we live. The author of Psalm 74 clearly believed in such a God, and his prayer echoed his belief. Our prayer should echo our belief in the God who “crushed the heads of Leviathan” and who “established the sun and moon.”
God’s anger and today’s church. We should not think that God’s anger against his covenant people is something that is limited to the Old Testament and the people of the wilderness experience or the exile. The story of the exile in Babylon makes it clear that he will use the means necessary to enable us to walk well with him. Sometimes our stubbornness and unwillingness to submit will mean that God will use measures that are difficult or unpleasant for us in order to help and enable us to receive the blessing that results from walking in his ways. We should not deceive ourselves into believing that God no longer works in this way today! Peter makes it clear that the Christian church is every bit as liable to God’s corrective redirection as was Israel in the Old Testament. First Peter 4:17 makes it plain that sometimes judgment begins with the family of God, so the church today needs to be aware of the multitude of means God uses to bring about his will and our obedience to his purposes in the world.
Original Meaning
The Power of the Creator God (74:12–21)
BUT GOD IS MY KING FROM LONG AGO. A remarkable confession of faith, given the psalmist’s present circumstances, follows the lament of verses 1–11. We are privy to the psalmist’s reminding himself and the community of the ultimate truth about their God, regardless of the indications to the contrary in their current experience. Whatever anyone else may say, Yahweh has been and remains king over his people. In these verses we see movement from lament to a hymnic profession of faith that emphasizes the awesome power of God in a series of statements addressed directly to him. The psalmist speaks publicly to God about what he is like as a reminder to all those who would listen. First, he reminds himself of Yahweh’s sovereign rule throughout many generations. Yahweh has been king from “long ago” and, mysterious though they may be, the people’s present circumstances cannot change the reality of Yahweh’s identity as king. “The God to whom the prayer is made is identified and evoked in the confession (v. 12) and its hymnic exposition (vv. 13–17).”15
Second, the people are reminded of the associated benefits of having Yahweh as their king. He is, after all, the one who “brings salvation on the earth” (v. 12b). More literally, the Hebrew describes God as “the worker of salvations in the midst of the earth.” The way in which the phrase is formed (using a participle to describe God, the “doer” or “worker”) shows that this characteristic is something foundational to Yahweh’s identity, and the fact that he works “salvations” (plural) points to a God who is not reluctant to intervene—in fact, he does so frequently for the benefit of his people and humankind in general. There is something profoundly important about these recollections. The psalmist speaks of Yahweh’s intrinsic character, which cannot change even if the community’s present circumstances are difficult to understand.
It was you who split open the sea by your power. In verses 13–17 the psalmist speaks about the awesome power of God as creator. The creation of the universe is undoubtedly the most awesome display of power imaginable, far outweighing any of the destructive displays of power that humankind has been able to muster. The creative authority of God remains an unchangeable fact throughout all human history. Although God may be staying his hand at present, the poet knows that he prays to the God who made everything—therefore, he knows that he prays to a God of unbelievable power and authority. To make this point forcefully and visually, the psalmist adopts the language of other ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies (creation mythologies). The nations that surrounded Israel all had their own accounts of the creation of the universe, and most of these myths describe creation in terms of a conflict between the gods. Many of these cosmogonies saw the creation of the earth and humankind as some sort of by-product of a cosmic battle between the high god of their religion and the forces of chaos. In these mythologies, the forces of chaos were most commonly represented by some sort of personification of the sea, and it is this imagery that the psalmist draws upon to make his point about the awesome power of the God to whom he prays.16
So the graphic presentation of Yahweh as the one who broke open “the heads of the monster in the waters,” “crushed the heads of Leviathan,” and displays his control over the sea, springs, streams, and flowing rivers (vv. 13–16) is designed to illustrate his power over chaos. Both the sea monsters and the waters themselves would have been understood as forces of chaos by the original hearers of this psalm. So Psalm 74 presents Israel’s God as victorious in the struggle with chaos (Chaoskampf), as defeating—metaphorically speaking—all the chaotic powers that stood against him. It was not that the psalmist actually believed this was the process by which God created the universe, but he uses this well-known imagery as a means of illustrating the greatness of God’s creative power and, at the same time, his control over disorder. Quite simply, the psalmist points the reader’s attention to the fact that God is the Creator who has more power than we can ever imagine. The NIV captures well the poet’s emphatic use of the pronoun “you” (seven times) in verses 13–17. “It was you who” accomplished all these amazing feats in creating the universe and overcoming chaos. This prayer to God is a proclamation of the ultimate nature of his power, probably as a reminder both to the psalmist himself and to the exiled people of God.17
The worshiping community in exile must listen to an ideology that presents Yahweh as a weak and defeated god from a remote and insignificant province. “Not true!” declares the psalmist—“This is the God who created the world, who controls the seas and the seasons, who fixed the boundaries of the earth and set the sun and the moon in place!” This prayer declares God to be all-powerful and reminds his people that, whatever the reason for Yahweh’s apparent inactivity at this time, their experience in the exile is not caused by a lack of divine power. This creational proclamation is important as it reminds the hearers that the God to whom they pray is a potent God capable of overcoming chaos. Yahweh has proven himself powerful in the exodus and, before that, in creation. In reminding God of his past activity, the people hope to draw his favor upon their present chaotic reality.18
Bridging Contexts
TEMPLE AND HOLY SPACE. One of the challenges in reading Psalm 74 is determining how we should respond to the temple theology and the ideas of “holy space” that we see in such psalms. Jerusalem was seen as the “city of God” (Ps 46:4), and the most holy place within the temple was, in a sense, seen as the place where God’s presence dwelt on earth (1 Kgs 8:22–66). Of course, the Israelites were fully aware that God could not be contained by any building (1 Kgs 8:27); however, they also believed that there was a special sense in which God did make himself present in the temple (2 Chr 7:1). So it is completely understandable that the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple were cataclysmic events for the psalmist and the Old Testament community of faith. For the proper worship of God, pilgrimage festivals had been ordained, and they had to be held in the central sanctuary (Deut 16); sacrifices for the forgiveness of sin could only take place in the temple (2 Chr 2:1–6); and it was a place where God’s people could meet with him in a special sense (Ps 48).
The concept of holy space has been entirely transformed by the coming of Christ. The New Testament describes the recontextualization of the concept of the temple by Jesus and the New Testament writers. The Old Testament concepts of temple and holy space were inextricably linked with a physical site in Jerusalem. Going to an actual place was an essential part of the Old Testament worship schema, but Jesus transformed ideas of the divine presence on earth through the incarnation. In Christ, God literally comes to dwell on earth with humanity. He is present in the midst of his people in a way that was previously unimaginable. Since the coming of Christ to dwell among humanity, the notion of temple has been transformed. Now, rather than referring to a physical place to which believers must make a pilgrimage, the concept of temple has been spiritualized.
The idea of temple has two connotations in the Christian era. First, Jesus likens himself (his own body) to the temple in John 2:19–22. In doing so, he is pointing to the ultimate act of sacrifice that he was about to accomplish on the cross, thus vitiating the need for the sacrificial work of the temple. Speaking of these verses Gary Burge comments, “Jesus is predicting his death and resurrection, which will create a new covenant with God and make the services of the Jerusalem temple obsolete.”25
Jesus goes even further in his conversation with the Samaritan woman in John 4. Part of the discussion centers on this question of locus—that is, where does true worship take place? The Samaritans believed that Mount Gerizim, at the foot of which Abraham had first built an altar to the Lord upon entry into the land (Gen 12:7), was a holy site where people could meet with God in a special way (John 4:19–20). Jesus makes it clear that the Samaritans were wrong in their belief (v. 22), but he goes on to make a fascinating comment that transforms the whole question of holy space. Verses 21–24 read:
“Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. . . . a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”
So the Messiah points to a time after his death when the need for a specific holy place is removed and to the fact that those who truly worship God will worship him in a spiritual manner. These words would have been shocking for both the Jewish and Samaritan communities of faith! In the coming of Christ, the very nature of religious practice is revolutionized. God, at that time, had quite literally come to dwell on earth, so a special place for a meeting with him becomes redundant. Since that time, God dwells spiritually on the earth with his people through his Holy Spirit, so the concept of sanctuary or holy space is magnified to encompass the whole earth, at least wherever his people are present. The need for sacrifice is removed in Christ, and the need for a place of intermediary representation is also removed by his association with humanity and his constant intercession in our behalf (Heb 4:14–16; 7:23–28).
Second, Paul makes it clear that the “dwelling place” of God on earth is now to be found in his church. Even in the Old Testament period everyone acknowledged that God could not be contained within one geographic space—he is always present everywhere. The same is true in the Christian era. In one sense God is present absolutely everywhere, but the place where he dwells in a special sense is now in the midst of his people wherever they gather. First Corinthians 3:16–17 describes the church universal, and by implication particular congregations of God’s people, as the new temple, where it is possible to meet with God in a heightened sense. “Just as Jewish and pagan temples were believed to be the dwelling place of God (or the gods), so also the Christian fellowship is the special place of the Spirit’s presence.”26
We see in the Christian era, therefore, the transformation of the idea of temple and holy space. Aspects of this Old Testament theology are consummated in Christ, and other aspects are expanded by the spiritualizing work of Christ. That believers can meet with God anywhere and worship him fully was true under the old covenant (1 Kgs 8:27–30), but it is all the more true because of the completed sacrificial work of Jesus.27
Also, the place where God’s presence dwells “especially” on the earth is in the midst of his people. In a very real sense, wherever people gather to worship God, he is present, and the opportunity to meet with him intensifies.28
Alternative worldviews. It is interesting to note that the psalmist adopts the terminology of a worldview that is not his own in order to make a particular theological point. Verses 13–14 speak of Yahweh in terms of Canaanite creation mythologies by describing him as the High God who overcomes the forces of chaos personified by the sea and sea monsters. Why is it that the poet chooses to adopt the concepts and language of a religious worldview that the covenant community would hold to be false? Is the psalmist actually saying that God did, in fact, create the world in this way? Psalm 74 does not run counter to the creation narratives of Genesis 1–2; rather, it adopts language and imagery that would have been common currency to the readers of the day in order to make a particular theological point that was relevant to the psalmist’s purpose in writing the poem. The Old Testament community of faith felt under such pressure from the “chaos” of current events that they wanted to remind themselves (and God) in their liturgy that he is the one who overcame all “chaos” in the act of creation and, therefore, is the one who is able to overcome all chaos in their present circumstance.29
There are some overlaps with the imagery of the ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies in the Genesis 1–2 creation accounts—so many, in fact, that some scholars have considered these connections to be examples of Chaoskampf in the Old Testament creation account. Having said so, it is now generally acknowledged that the Old Testament’s connections with “chaos ideologies” regarding the formation of the universe are much more understated than the ancient Near Eastern equivalents. We do see that initially the created order was tohu wabohu (“formless and empty”) and “darkness was over the surface of the deep” (Gen 1:2). This picture does present the idea of God’s overcoming the unformed chaos by his command, but it is far removed from the rebellious forces of chaos personified as sea gods or sea monsters in the creation myths of Israel’s neighbors. Equally, Genesis 1:21 points to God’s creation of the “great creatures of the sea”—again, imagery that bears some similarity to the alternative creation accounts—but, as before, the similarities are fairly superficial. The sea monsters do not compete with God in some sort of cosmic battle; rather, they are created by him and therefore entirely under his control. In fact, these similarities of language and imagery, but differences of content and ideology, illustrate the fact that the Genesis 1–2 creation account probably serves as a polemic against the alternative cosmogonies of the ancient world. The imagery of the Old Testament’s creation narrative cannot really be described as Chaoskampf because there is no obvious sign of struggle (Kampf). In the mind of the Old Testament writers, there was no conflict in creation because there is no power comparable to that of Yahweh’s creative word.30
The psalmist adopts a similar approach in Psalm 74. He makes use of imagery that would be familiar to his hearers in order to make a particular point without implying that the alternative creation account has any authoritative status or factual accuracy. The sea monsters and dragons would be understood by his readers as shorthand for forces of chaos. The Hebrews in exile (and even in the postexilic period) would see their own lives as being shrouded in such chaos. The image of the Creator God who overcomes chaos, therefore, is one that would speak powerfully to them. Liturgically, these verses would be an encouragement to the exilic community. In prayer, these words serve as a reminder to God of his foundational character, thus voicing the expectation of the people that he will work in accordance with his nature.31
Psalm 74 in the New Testament. While we find no direct citations from or allusions to Psalm 74, clearly the whole concept of the temple as holy space is one that undergoes quite a transformation in the New Testament (see the above discussion, pp. 90–93).
Contemporary Significance
SEEING THE WORLD THEOLOGICALLY. We saw in our study of Psalm 73 that the way in which we view and respond to life is often shaped by our perspectives on it. The poet who wrote Psalm 74 had a relentlessly theological perspective on life.32
Together with the author of the book of Lamentations, the psalmist looks beyond the outward circumstances of life to see God’s hand at work in the events that he and his fellows were experiencing. It would have been very easy for the psalmist to focus on the destructive power of the armies of Babylon or the political weakness of Judah in his day, but instead he realizes that the events experienced in the exile had a theological root rather than a geopolitical one.
Jesus himself serves as an example of this type of thinking. In John 19:10–11 Pilate thinks that he has authority and control in his confrontation with Jesus, but even in the most trying of circumstances the Messiah sees things from the perspective of theological reality rather than political reality. “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above” (v. 11a). Jesus was fully aware of the spiritual reality at work behind the current, traumatic events of his own life. He saw beyond the physical and consciously viewed things theologically.
Do we do the same in our own day and reality? As we read the newspapers and watch 24-hour news channels, do we look beyond the tangible scheme of things and ask how God is at work in the events of our time and our nations? It may be hard for us to discern just how God’s hand is at work in the (often traumatic) events of our own experience, so—as with Psalm 74—this practice is one best worked out communally in our congregations of faith. Challenging as it may be, however, we should practice such discernment. We should ask God to reveal to us how and where he is at work in our own situations and, also, ask what role he would have us play as his people in this generation.
Remembering the character of God. Another important line of application to be drawn from Psalm 74 is the psalmist’s insistent belief that the God to whom he prays works in human history. The poet points to the great works of God in the creation of the universe and reminds himself that his prayer is directed to this Creator God who has worked in the creation of human history and who still works in human history today. We must ask ourselves whether or not our prayers actually reflect the fact that we pray to the one who made everything we see around us. Our intercession is directed to a God of incomparable power, so our prayers should be marked by faith of a similar magnitude. I fear that often our prayers do not reflect the fact that “our God is a great, big God.”33
Rather, it seems to me that, were a stranger who had no idea about Christianity to listen to our prayers, he would think that we actually believe in a God of limited power—a God who is able to provide “journeying mercies” and “bless” all sorts of people and events, certainly, but perhaps not the Creator of all things who is able radically to transform the world in which we live. The author of Psalm 74 clearly believed in such a God, and his prayer echoed his belief. Our prayer should echo our belief in the God who “crushed the heads of Leviathan” and who “established the sun and moon.”
God’s anger and today’s church. We should not think that God’s anger against his covenant people is something that is limited to the Old Testament and the people of the wilderness experience or the exile. The story of the exile in Babylon makes it clear that he will use the means necessary to enable us to walk well with him. Sometimes our stubbornness and unwillingness to submit will mean that God will use measures that are difficult or unpleasant for us in order to help and enable us to receive the blessing that results from walking in his ways. We should not deceive ourselves into believing that God no longer works in this way today! Peter makes it clear that the Christian church is every bit as liable to God’s corrective redirection as was Israel in the Old Testament. First Peter 4:17 makes it plain that sometimes judgment begins with the family of God, so the church today needs to be aware of the multitude of means God uses to bring about his will and our obedience to his purposes in the world.
Original Meaning
The Power of the Creator God (74:12–21)
BUT GOD IS MY KING FROM LONG AGO. A remarkable confession of faith, given the psalmist’s present circumstances, follows the lament of verses 1–11. We are privy to the psalmist’s reminding himself and the community of the ultimate truth about their God, regardless of the indications to the contrary in their current experience. Whatever anyone else may say, Yahweh has been and remains king over his people. In these verses we see movement from lament to a hymnic profession of faith that emphasizes the awesome power of God in a series of statements addressed directly to him. The psalmist speaks publicly to God about what he is like as a reminder to all those who would listen. First, he reminds himself of Yahweh’s sovereign rule throughout many generations. Yahweh has been king from “long ago” and, mysterious though they may be, the people’s present circumstances cannot change the reality of Yahweh’s identity as king. “The God to whom the prayer is made is identified and evoked in the confession (v. 12) and its hymnic exposition (vv. 13–17).”15
Second, the people are reminded of the associated benefits of having Yahweh as their king. He is, after all, the one who “brings salvation on the earth” (v. 12b). More literally, the Hebrew describes God as “the worker of salvations in the midst of the earth.” The way in which the phrase is formed (using a participle to describe God, the “doer” or “worker”) shows that this characteristic is something foundational to Yahweh’s identity, and the fact that he works “salvations” (plural) points to a God who is not reluctant to intervene—in fact, he does so frequently for the benefit of his people and humankind in general. There is something profoundly important about these recollections. The psalmist speaks of Yahweh’s intrinsic character, which cannot change even if the community’s present circumstances are difficult to understand.
It was you who split open the sea by your power. In verses 13–17 the psalmist speaks about the awesome power of God as creator. The creation of the universe is undoubtedly the most awesome display of power imaginable, far outweighing any of the destructive displays of power that humankind has been able to muster. The creative authority of God remains an unchangeable fact throughout all human history. Although God may be staying his hand at present, the poet knows that he prays to the God who made everything—therefore, he knows that he prays to a God of unbelievable power and authority. To make this point forcefully and visually, the psalmist adopts the language of other ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies (creation mythologies). The nations that surrounded Israel all had their own accounts of the creation of the universe, and most of these myths describe creation in terms of a conflict between the gods. Many of these cosmogonies saw the creation of the earth and humankind as some sort of by-product of a cosmic battle between the high god of their religion and the forces of chaos. In these mythologies, the forces of chaos were most commonly represented by some sort of personification of the sea, and it is this imagery that the psalmist draws upon to make his point about the awesome power of the God to whom he prays.16
So the graphic presentation of Yahweh as the one who broke open “the heads of the monster in the waters,” “crushed the heads of Leviathan,” and displays his control over the sea, springs, streams, and flowing rivers (vv. 13–16) is designed to illustrate his power over chaos. Both the sea monsters and the waters themselves would have been understood as forces of chaos by the original hearers of this psalm. So Psalm 74 presents Israel’s God as victorious in the struggle with chaos (Chaoskampf), as defeating—metaphorically speaking—all the chaotic powers that stood against him. It was not that the psalmist actually believed this was the process by which God created the universe, but he uses this well-known imagery as a means of illustrating the greatness of God’s creative power and, at the same time, his control over disorder. Quite simply, the psalmist points the reader’s attention to the fact that God is the Creator who has more power than we can ever imagine. The NIV captures well the poet’s emphatic use of the pronoun “you” (seven times) in verses 13–17. “It was you who” accomplished all these amazing feats in creating the universe and overcoming chaos. This prayer to God is a proclamation of the ultimate nature of his power, probably as a reminder both to the psalmist himself and to the exiled people of God.17
The worshiping community in exile must listen to an ideology that presents Yahweh as a weak and defeated god from a remote and insignificant province. “Not true!” declares the psalmist—“This is the God who created the world, who controls the seas and the seasons, who fixed the boundaries of the earth and set the sun and the moon in place!” This prayer declares God to be all-powerful and reminds his people that, whatever the reason for Yahweh’s apparent inactivity at this time, their experience in the exile is not caused by a lack of divine power. This creational proclamation is important as it reminds the hearers that the God to whom they pray is a potent God capable of overcoming chaos. Yahweh has proven himself powerful in the exodus and, before that, in creation. In reminding God of his past activity, the people hope to draw his favor upon their present chaotic reality.18
Bridging Contexts
TEMPLE AND HOLY SPACE. One of the challenges in reading Psalm 74 is determining how we should respond to the temple theology and the ideas of “holy space” that we see in such psalms. Jerusalem was seen as the “city of God” (Ps 46:4), and the most holy place within the temple was, in a sense, seen as the place where God’s presence dwelt on earth (1 Kgs 8:22–66). Of course, the Israelites were fully aware that God could not be contained by any building (1 Kgs 8:27); however, they also believed that there was a special sense in which God did make himself present in the temple (2 Chr 7:1). So it is completely understandable that the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple were cataclysmic events for the psalmist and the Old Testament community of faith. For the proper worship of God, pilgrimage festivals had been ordained, and they had to be held in the central sanctuary (Deut 16); sacrifices for the forgiveness of sin could only take place in the temple (2 Chr 2:1–6); and it was a place where God’s people could meet with him in a special sense (Ps 48).
The concept of holy space has been entirely transformed by the coming of Christ. The New Testament describes the recontextualization of the concept of the temple by Jesus and the New Testament writers. The Old Testament concepts of temple and holy space were inextricably linked with a physical site in Jerusalem. Going to an actual place was an essential part of the Old Testament worship schema, but Jesus transformed ideas of the divine presence on earth through the incarnation. In Christ, God literally comes to dwell on earth with humanity. He is present in the midst of his people in a way that was previously unimaginable. Since the coming of Christ to dwell among humanity, the notion of temple has been transformed. Now, rather than referring to a physical place to which believers must make a pilgrimage, the concept of temple has been spiritualized.
The idea of temple has two connotations in the Christian era. First, Jesus likens himself (his own body) to the temple in John 2:19–22. In doing so, he is pointing to the ultimate act of sacrifice that he was about to accomplish on the cross, thus vitiating the need for the sacrificial work of the temple. Speaking of these verses Gary Burge comments, “Jesus is predicting his death and resurrection, which will create a new covenant with God and make the services of the Jerusalem temple obsolete.”25
Jesus goes even further in his conversation with the Samaritan woman in John 4. Part of the discussion centers on this question of locus—that is, where does true worship take place? The Samaritans believed that Mount Gerizim, at the foot of which Abraham had first built an altar to the Lord upon entry into the land (Gen 12:7), was a holy site where people could meet with God in a special way (John 4:19–20). Jesus makes it clear that the Samaritans were wrong in their belief (v. 22), but he goes on to make a fascinating comment that transforms the whole question of holy space. Verses 21–24 read:
“Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. . . . a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.”
So the Messiah points to a time after his death when the need for a specific holy place is removed and to the fact that those who truly worship God will worship him in a spiritual manner. These words would have been shocking for both the Jewish and Samaritan communities of faith! In the coming of Christ, the very nature of religious practice is revolutionized. God, at that time, had quite literally come to dwell on earth, so a special place for a meeting with him becomes redundant. Since that time, God dwells spiritually on the earth with his people through his Holy Spirit, so the concept of sanctuary or holy space is magnified to encompass the whole earth, at least wherever his people are present. The need for sacrifice is removed in Christ, and the need for a place of intermediary representation is also removed by his association with humanity and his constant intercession in our behalf (Heb 4:14–16; 7:23–28).
Second, Paul makes it clear that the “dwelling place” of God on earth is now to be found in his church. Even in the Old Testament period everyone acknowledged that God could not be contained within one geographic space—he is always present everywhere. The same is true in the Christian era. In one sense God is present absolutely everywhere, but the place where he dwells in a special sense is now in the midst of his people wherever they gather. First Corinthians 3:16–17 describes the church universal, and by implication particular congregations of God’s people, as the new temple, where it is possible to meet with God in a heightened sense. “Just as Jewish and pagan temples were believed to be the dwelling place of God (or the gods), so also the Christian fellowship is the special place of the Spirit’s presence.”26
We see in the Christian era, therefore, the transformation of the idea of temple and holy space. Aspects of this Old Testament theology are consummated in Christ, and other aspects are expanded by the spiritualizing work of Christ. That believers can meet with God anywhere and worship him fully was true under the old covenant (1 Kgs 8:27–30), but it is all the more true because of the completed sacrificial work of Jesus.27
Also, the place where God’s presence dwells “especially” on the earth is in the midst of his people. In a very real sense, wherever people gather to worship God, he is present, and the opportunity to meet with him intensifies.28
Alternative worldviews. It is interesting to note that the psalmist adopts the terminology of a worldview that is not his own in order to make a particular theological point. Verses 13–14 speak of Yahweh in terms of Canaanite creation mythologies by describing him as the High God who overcomes the forces of chaos personified by the sea and sea monsters. Why is it that the poet chooses to adopt the concepts and language of a religious worldview that the covenant community would hold to be false? Is the psalmist actually saying that God did, in fact, create the world in this way? Psalm 74 does not run counter to the creation narratives of Genesis 1–2; rather, it adopts language and imagery that would have been common currency to the readers of the day in order to make a particular theological point that was relevant to the psalmist’s purpose in writing the poem. The Old Testament community of faith felt under such pressure from the “chaos” of current events that they wanted to remind themselves (and God) in their liturgy that he is the one who overcame all “chaos” in the act of creation and, therefore, is the one who is able to overcome all chaos in their present circumstance.29
There are some overlaps with the imagery of the ancient Near Eastern cosmogonies in the Genesis 1–2 creation accounts—so many, in fact, that some scholars have considered these connections to be examples of Chaoskampf in the Old Testament creation account. Having said so, it is now generally acknowledged that the Old Testament’s connections with “chaos ideologies” regarding the formation of the universe are much more understated than the ancient Near Eastern equivalents. We do see that initially the created order was tohu wabohu (“formless and empty”) and “darkness was over the surface of the deep” (Gen 1:2). This picture does present the idea of God’s overcoming the unformed chaos by his command, but it is far removed from the rebellious forces of chaos personified as sea gods or sea monsters in the creation myths of Israel’s neighbors. Equally, Genesis 1:21 points to God’s creation of the “great creatures of the sea”—again, imagery that bears some similarity to the alternative creation accounts—but, as before, the similarities are fairly superficial. The sea monsters do not compete with God in some sort of cosmic battle; rather, they are created by him and therefore entirely under his control. In fact, these similarities of language and imagery, but differences of content and ideology, illustrate the fact that the Genesis 1–2 creation account probably serves as a polemic against the alternative cosmogonies of the ancient world. The imagery of the Old Testament’s creation narrative cannot really be described as Chaoskampf because there is no obvious sign of struggle (Kampf). In the mind of the Old Testament writers, there was no conflict in creation because there is no power comparable to that of Yahweh’s creative word.30
The psalmist adopts a similar approach in Psalm 74. He makes use of imagery that would be familiar to his hearers in order to make a particular point without implying that the alternative creation account has any authoritative status or factual accuracy. The sea monsters and dragons would be understood by his readers as shorthand for forces of chaos. The Hebrews in exile (and even in the postexilic period) would see their own lives as being shrouded in such chaos. The image of the Creator God who overcomes chaos, therefore, is one that would speak powerfully to them. Liturgically, these verses would be an encouragement to the exilic community. In prayer, these words serve as a reminder to God of his foundational character, thus voicing the expectation of the people that he will work in accordance with his nature.31
Psalm 74 in the New Testament. While we find no direct citations from or allusions to Psalm 74, clearly the whole concept of the temple as holy space is one that undergoes quite a transformation in the New Testament (see the above discussion, pp. 90–93).
Contemporary Significance
SEEING THE WORLD THEOLOGICALLY. We saw in our study of Psalm 73 that the way in which we view and respond to life is often shaped by our perspectives on it. The poet who wrote Psalm 74 had a relentlessly theological perspective on life.32
Together with the author of the book of Lamentations, the psalmist looks beyond the outward circumstances of life to see God’s hand at work in the events that he and his fellows were experiencing. It would have been very easy for the psalmist to focus on the destructive power of the armies of Babylon or the political weakness of Judah in his day, but instead he realizes that the events experienced in the exile had a theological root rather than a geopolitical one.
Jesus himself serves as an example of this type of thinking. In John 19:10–11 Pilate thinks that he has authority and control in his confrontation with Jesus, but even in the most trying of circumstances the Messiah sees things from the perspective of theological reality rather than political reality. “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above” (v. 11a). Jesus was fully aware of the spiritual reality at work behind the current, traumatic events of his own life. He saw beyond the physical and consciously viewed things theologically.
Do we do the same in our own day and reality? As we read the newspapers and watch 24-hour news channels, do we look beyond the tangible scheme of things and ask how God is at work in the events of our time and our nations? It may be hard for us to discern just how God’s hand is at work in the (often traumatic) events of our own experience, so—as with Psalm 74—this practice is one best worked out communally in our congregations of faith. Challenging as it may be, however, we should practice such discernment. We should ask God to reveal to us how and where he is at work in our own situations and, also, ask what role he would have us play as his people in this generation.
Remembering the character of God. Another important line of application to be drawn from Psalm 74 is the psalmist’s insistent belief that the God to whom he prays works in human history. The poet points to the great works of God in the creation of the universe and reminds himself that his prayer is directed to this Creator God who has worked in the creation of human history and who still works in human history today. We must ask ourselves whether or not our prayers actually reflect the fact that we pray to the one who made everything we see around us. Our intercession is directed to a God of incomparable power, so our prayers should be marked by faith of a similar magnitude. I fear that often our prayers do not reflect the fact that “our God is a great, big God.”33
Rather, it seems to me that, were a stranger who had no idea about Christianity to listen to our prayers, he would think that we actually believe in a God of limited power—a God who is able to provide “journeying mercies” and “bless” all sorts of people and events, certainly, but perhaps not the Creator of all things who is able radically to transform the world in which we live. The author of Psalm 74 clearly believed in such a God, and his prayer echoed his belief. Our prayer should echo our belief in the God who “crushed the heads of Leviathan” and who “established the sun and moon.”
God’s anger and today’s church. We should not think that God’s anger against his covenant people is something that is limited to the Old Testament and the people of the wilderness experience or the exile. The story of the exile in Babylon makes it clear that he will use the means necessary to enable us to walk well with him. Sometimes our stubbornness and unwillingness to submit will mean that God will use measures that are difficult or unpleasant for us in order to help and enable us to receive the blessing that results from walking in his ways. We should not deceive ourselves into believing that God no longer works in this way today! Peter makes it clear that the Christian church is every bit as liable to God’s corrective redirection as was Israel in the Old Testament. First Peter 4:17 makes it plain that sometimes judgment begins with the family of God, so the church today needs to be aware of the multitude of means God uses to bring about his will and our obedience to his purposes in the world.
