← Contents Psalm 92

Psalm 92

A psalm. A song. For the Sabbath day.

1 It is good to praise the LORD

and make music to your name, O Most High,

2 proclaiming your love in the morning

and your faithfulness at night,

3 to the music of the ten-stringed lyre

and the melody of the harp.

4 For you make me glad by your deeds, LORD;

I sing for joy at what your hands have done.

5 How great are your works, LORD,

how profound your thoughts!

6 Senseless people do not know,

fools do not understand,

7 that though the wicked spring up like grass

and all evildoers flourish,

they will be destroyed forever.

8 But you, LORD, are forever exalted.

9 For surely your enemies, LORD,

surely your enemies will perish;

all evildoers will be scattered.

10 You have exalted my horn like that of a wild ox;

fine oils have been poured on me.

11 My eyes have seen the defeat of my adversaries;

my ears have heard the rout of my wicked foes.

12 The righteous will flourish like a palm tree,

they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon;

13 planted in the house of the LORD,

they will flourish in the courts of our God.

14 They will still bear fruit in old age,

they will stay fresh and green,

15 proclaiming, “The LORD is upright;

he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.”

Original Meaning

The Title (92:0)

PSALM 92 IS DESCRIBED AS A PSALM “for the Sabbath day,” but there is no obvious link with the Sabbath in terms of the poem’s content. The title may simply reflect the composition’s use during Sabbath services at some point in its history. Psalm 92 is the only psalm with a Sabbath-related title—a surprising fact when one considers the Psalter’s association with Israel’s worship. Some commentators suggest that Psalm 92’s link with the Sabbath points to a sort of eternal, eschatological rest rather than to the Sabbath day.1 Given the poem’s overtones of final judgment and the blessing of the righteous in the presence of Yahweh, this suggestion is quite possibly the case.2

Bridging Contexts

LINKS BETWEEN PSALMS 90–92. It seems that Psalms 90–92 form a mini-collection within Book 4 of the Psalter, linked around the figure of Moses. Psalm 90 is the only composition in the Psalter to carry a specific heading associating it with Moses. Psalm 91 uses the language of Deuteronomy to describe the psalmist’s devotion to God (Ps 91:14; cf. Deut 7:7; 10:15, where the same language is used to describe God’s love for Israel) and Yahweh’s protection of his people under his wings (Ps 91:4; cf. Deut 32:11). Deuteronomy, of course, is dominated by the presence and voice of Moses. Psalm 92, as we have seen above, is a “Song of the Sabbath,” and the Sabbath is associated with the giving of the law, which was mediated by Moses (Exod 20; Deut 5). So, this mini-collection of poems harks back to the days of Moses.21 Why so?

The inclusion of a Mosaic collection at the start of Book 4 seems to have resulted from a deliberate decision by the Psalter’s editors in response to the crisis of Davidic kingship, the theme that ends Book 3. Psalm 89 concludes Book 3 (Pss 73–89) with a voice that cries out in despair over the loss of the Davidic line, and this final voice echoes the desperation of the people expressed earlier in Book 3 over the loss of the temple and the fall of Jerusalem (see comments on Pss 74 and 76 above). So, from the perspective of the Psalter as a whole, Book 3 is dominated by a voice of lament and concludes with a strong expression of loss and discomfit concerning the demise of the Davidic line in the events of the exile. The basic tenor of the preceding collection is a voice that asks, “How are we to survive without the temple, without Zion, and without a king in the line of David to rule us?”

Psalms 90–92 respond to that voice of loss by pointing the readers of the Psalter to a time when there was no temple, when Jerusalem was still a “pagan” town, and when the concept of kingship barely registered in the psyche of God’s people, yet everything was fine! The editors respond to the multiple crises of the exile, as presented in Book 3, by redirecting the reader’s thoughts to the period of Moses’s leadership of an embryonic Israel. When Moses was in charge, the concepts of temple, holy city, and human king were (broadly speaking) meaningless—yet God still ruled and was still able to bless his people! So, this collection of poems encourages readers to look beyond their despair, caused by the losses they had experienced, to a spiritual and historical reality in which God’s rule was undeniable despite the nonexistence of the physical trappings of that rule. The point seems quite clear: Yahweh reigned over Israel before there was a temple or a Zion or a David, so can he not still govern the affairs of his people now that these things no longer exist?

Pointing to Moses in Psalms 90–92 directs the readers to think of realities that predate their own existence and experience of God. Had the people come to focus their attention on the physical signs over and above the spiritual reality? Perhaps they had. So, the editors remind the people of a time when the reality of God’s rule was undeniable even though the signs were not present. Equally, however, there is movement within this collection as it transitions from petition (Ps 90) to promise (Ps 91) and, finally, to thanksgiving (Ps 92).

Psalm 90 begins as a lament over the susceptibility of humans to death and an expression of fear of an unpredictable divine wrath, culminating in the petition that Yahweh, in his steadfast love (hesed), might counter this wrath. This petition in Psalm 90 is answered in Psalm 91 with a twofold assent or promise. That this assent is not an empty word, but is fulfilled in the one who trusts in it, is then attested by the hymnic account of rescue in Psalm 92; in the process, individual formulations in Psalm 92 acquire additional dimensions of meaning in light of Psalms 90–91.22

In particular, there appears to be a thematic unity based on the idea of dwelling in the presence of God. The Mosaic Psalm 90 begins with the celebration of God as the “dwelling place” of generations of believers. Psalm 91 points to the protection afforded to those who take refuge in Yahweh—those who make the Most High their dwelling (v. 9). And, picking up on this same theme, Psalm 92 paints a picture of growth and fruitfulness for those who are “planted in the house of the LORD” (v. 13). The message of Psalms 90–92 is one that speaks of a faithful God who is a Rock and Refuge for his people. The rhetorical challenge of this collection of poems encourages the readers to place their trust in this God and to do so actively, with a real sense of hope and assurance. “Moses” speaks in Psalms 90–92 with a voice of certainty: “Place your trust in God because he is in control!”

Psalm 92 in the New Testament. There are no direct citations of Psalm 92 in the New Testament; however, “the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb” in Revelation 15:3–4 celebrates both the works of the Lord (cf. Ps 92:4) and the great justice of God (cf. Ps 92:15). Similarly, Revelation 16:5–7 focuses on the absolute justice of God in the exercise of judgment. In the book of Revelation there are, of course, strong echoes of the idea of eschatological justice found in Psalm 92. John’s Apocalypse also points to the ultimate justice of God despite the present injustices perpetrated by the wicked. Again, in the New Testament we see a scenario in which the oppressor may seem to hold the upper hand at various points of historical reality, but we also see that God’s undeniable justice will come to the fore in his time.

The idea of taking rest in Christ also echoes the overall theme of this Sabbath song. The famous verses of Matthew 11:28–29 point to Jesus as the Messiah who brings the Sabbath experience to his people. It is in relationship with him that his people find this peace, just as those who dwell in the house of Yahweh experience an edenic fruitfulness and idyll. Equally, Matthew 12:1–14 echoes this type of Sabbath experience as depicted in Psalm 92. The Sabbath is not about legalism and rule but about fullness and wholeness in relationship with God.

Contemporary Significance

FLEETING TYRANNY. For those of us in the Western world, tyranny is something that we normally experience from afar. Twenty-four hour news channels and the speed of the Internet give us almost instant access to eyewitness accounts of events happening thousands of miles and several time zones away. We are often faced with the unpleasant reality of seeing tyrants and dictators rise to authority at great cost to those dwelling in the lands where those rulers wield power. Such realities are all the more difficult for the many thousands of people who do not watch it from afar but experience it as their daily norm. It is one thing to hear and read about the killing fields of Cambodia or even to watch the news stories—it was quite another thing to experience the persecutions of Pol Pot.23 You can fill in the blanks today and every day. In the 1930s and 1940s it was Hitler in Germany. In the 1940s and 1950s it was Stalin in Russia. In the 1960s, Papa Doc Duvalier and the Tonton Macoutes ruled Haiti with an iron fist. In the 1970s, it was Idi Amin in Uganda and Pol Pot in Cambodia who wreaked havoc on their own peoples. In the late 1980s, the old communist dictatorships of Central and Eastern Europe began to crumble, but that did not prevent Slobodan Milošević from rising to power in Serbia and propagating his hateful ideology of ethnic cleansing in the Balkans in the early 1990s. The early years of the twenty-first century have been no better, and selective “regime change” by Western governments left countless other dictators in destructive power over their people—Kim Jong-un in North Korea, Bashar al-Assad in Syria, not to mention the Castros in Cuba or Lukashenko in Belarus or the apparently indeterminate power of ruling royal families throughout the Middle East. How is the person of faith to view such brutal regimes?

The answer as found in Psalm 92 is surprisingly simple on one level, yet incredibly challenging on another. The simple side of the problem of dictators is that, though they rule now with severe prejudice, justice and judgment are certain in God’s economy. They may inflict untold pain today and tomorrow or for some years to come, but ultimately their absolute demise and judgment at the hand of a righteous God is certain (vv. 6–8). Herein lies the “simple” side of seeing things from the divine perspective—all those who practice injustice shall face the judgment of a just God (vv. 9, 15). The more difficult side of this equation is “When?” Why should God’s judgment be “ultimate” and not “now”? Why are dictators left to reign for so long? Here is the imponderable question—but one that has to be asked. It is the “How long?” question of so many of the psalms of lament. The answer may not always satisfy us, but it is only right to ask the question. Injustice is always something that the church should lament, but it laments with a degree of hope because we rest in the sure knowledge that justice will be worked out—if not in our present experience, in God’s good time (see comments on Ps 75 above).

So, the message that Psalm 92 gives the reader is a perspective unattainable by “fools” (v. 6). God is forever exalted, whereas the wicked are forever destroyed (vv. 7–8).

Rejoicing in judgment? This perspective gives rise to a second question of practical application: Is it ever right to rejoice in judgment (and the associated suffering) of anyone, even the wicked? Clearly, the tone of thanksgiving in Ps 92 includes (or at least implies) giving thanks for judgment poured out on others. Can doing so ever be morally “right”? Does it not deny the New Testament’s teaching that we should “love [our] enemies and pray for those who persecute [us]” (Matt 5:44)? Superficially, this tone of thanksgiving at judgment may seem to be so very Old Testament, yet we are told that it is this same Jesus who “will judge the living and the dead” (2 Tim 4:1, emphasis added). Equally, Paul encourages us not to take vengeance for wrongs inflicted on us (Rom 12:18–21), yet he does so in the awareness that God will take such revenge. Is there a contradiction here?

As Christians longing to show compassion that reflects the grace we have received, we must never forget the innate sense of justice that God has instilled in his created order. Is it wrong to celebrate the demise of oppressive governments? Surely not, for the Bible makes it clear that Yahweh himself is the advocate pleading the case of the oppressed poor (Prov 22:22–23), and we should never ignore the advocacy of the Lord. In fact, Christians should be agents for change and advocates for the voiceless. While accepting that God will judge in accordance with his perfect timing, we should strive to make use of every means of influence we have to support those who suffer under cruel and vindictive rule. Every human being is imbued with inherent worth as one created in the image of God; therefore, Christians should be constantly active in defending the rights of the defenseless and speaking up for the voiceless.

So, is it wrong to give thanks for judgment worked out in history or eternity? No, because injustice should always grieve us, and the practice of justice should cause us to rejoice. C. Hassell Bullock comments: “Psalms give us a realistic view of the world. That is, they will not permit us to ignore the violence and evil of the world we live in.”24 Thanksgiving for divine judgment echoes of the indignation we should feel when injustice reigns on the earth. We pray “Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” and we rejoice when that kingdom does come little by little, more and more fully in our day.

1. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437; Schaefer, Psalms, 230.

2. Zenger points to an early Jewish tradition in the Mishnah that reads Ps 92 eschatologically: “The commentary in m. Tamid 7.4: ‘A psalm, a song for the future that is coming, for the day that is altogether a Sabbath of rest for eternal life.’ ” See Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437 n. 5.

3. The verb used here is zamar, from which is derived the Hebrew term for a “psalm” (mizmor). It is not absolutely clear whether this word refers to making music or singing praise, but either way something vibrant and noisy is in mind (see HALOT 2:273).

4. Again, it is not clear precisely which instruments are in view in verse 3, but there is a strong sense of musicality behind the psalmist’s declaration of praise. Zenger comments, “The types of lyre mentioned in v. 4 project the picture of a great orchestra, with v. 4b even indicating different performance techniques” (Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437).

5. Walton, ANE Thought, 105–12.

6. See Goldingay, Psalms 3, 55.

7. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

8. Broyles, Psalms, 365. Broyles points out that the Hebrew text “lacks the concessive though.”

9. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

10. The idea of scattering (v. 9) is often associated with judgment imagery in the Psalter (e.g., see Ps 1:4–5). The idea of scattering seems to correspond to notions of power and permanence. The wicked often abuse the power they hold and seem unshakable in their positions of social control. But from God’s perspective they are but chaff—lightweight, ephemeral, and passing—scattered by the slightest of winds.

11. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

12. Ibid.

13. There is a degree of complexity involved in reconstructing the verb here (see Th. Booij, “Psalm CXXXIX: Text, Syntax, Meaning,” VT LV.1 [2005]: 1–19), and if the root verb is balal, then the form is slightly awkward but not impossible (see Eaton, Psalms, 330).

14. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

15. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

16. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

17. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440.

18. “The righteous are like a stately and fertile tree, while the wicked are like short-lived grass” (Longman, Psalms, 334).

19. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440–41.

20. Ibid., 442.

21. Michael G. McKelvey, Moses, David and the High Kingship of Yahweh: A Canonical Study of Book IV of the Psalter, Gorgias Dissertations Biblical Studies 55 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2010), 281–96.

22. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 442.

23. See Don Cormack, Killing Fields, Living Fields: Faith in Cambodia (Fearn, UK: Christian Focus, 2009), for a moving account of those who experienced Pol Pot’s persecution yet refused to turn their backs on the God they loved.

24. Bullock, Encountering the Psalms, 246.

Original Meaning

The Joy of Praise (92:1–3)

IT IS GOOD TO PRAISE THE LORD. Psalm 92 begins with a fundamental statement of deep satisfaction: “It is good to praise/give thanks to the LORD!” There is a simplicity to the summary statement that begins the psalm. While he is aware of the complexities of life (as is evidenced by all the discussion of the prosperity of the wicked that follows), the poet begins with a bare statement of fact: it is a good thing to praise the living God! This goodness has been his experience of worship, and the joyful simplicity of that practice of praise shapes the opening thoughts of this poem.

And make music to your name, O Most High. The psalmist’s delight in praise is vocal, musical, and noisy! This praise is not quiet or understated—it is vibrant, colorful, and exuberant. So, his praise of the Lord is combined with “making music,”3 “proclamation,” and more music on the “ten-stringed lyre” and the “harp.”4

Proclaiming your love in the morning. Verse 2 provides the rationale for the poet’s assessment of praise as good. It is good to praise Yahweh because of Yahweh’s good character. Morning and night (a merism that implies “at all times”), God is steadfast in his love and faithfulness. For this reason it is good to praise God, because he is truly a God who is worthy to receive praise. In the ancient Near East it was common to praise gods for fear that they might turn nasty at any moment. Praise was offered because the gods could be capricious, and if their egos were not massaged they could turn against the people.5 But it is good to praise Israel’s God because he himself is good.

Bridging Contexts

LINKS BETWEEN PSALMS 90–92. It seems that Psalms 90–92 form a mini-collection within Book 4 of the Psalter, linked around the figure of Moses. Psalm 90 is the only composition in the Psalter to carry a specific heading associating it with Moses. Psalm 91 uses the language of Deuteronomy to describe the psalmist’s devotion to God (Ps 91:14; cf. Deut 7:7; 10:15, where the same language is used to describe God’s love for Israel) and Yahweh’s protection of his people under his wings (Ps 91:4; cf. Deut 32:11). Deuteronomy, of course, is dominated by the presence and voice of Moses. Psalm 92, as we have seen above, is a “Song of the Sabbath,” and the Sabbath is associated with the giving of the law, which was mediated by Moses (Exod 20; Deut 5). So, this mini-collection of poems harks back to the days of Moses.21 Why so?

The inclusion of a Mosaic collection at the start of Book 4 seems to have resulted from a deliberate decision by the Psalter’s editors in response to the crisis of Davidic kingship, the theme that ends Book 3. Psalm 89 concludes Book 3 (Pss 73–89) with a voice that cries out in despair over the loss of the Davidic line, and this final voice echoes the desperation of the people expressed earlier in Book 3 over the loss of the temple and the fall of Jerusalem (see comments on Pss 74 and 76 above). So, from the perspective of the Psalter as a whole, Book 3 is dominated by a voice of lament and concludes with a strong expression of loss and discomfit concerning the demise of the Davidic line in the events of the exile. The basic tenor of the preceding collection is a voice that asks, “How are we to survive without the temple, without Zion, and without a king in the line of David to rule us?”

Psalms 90–92 respond to that voice of loss by pointing the readers of the Psalter to a time when there was no temple, when Jerusalem was still a “pagan” town, and when the concept of kingship barely registered in the psyche of God’s people, yet everything was fine! The editors respond to the multiple crises of the exile, as presented in Book 3, by redirecting the reader’s thoughts to the period of Moses’s leadership of an embryonic Israel. When Moses was in charge, the concepts of temple, holy city, and human king were (broadly speaking) meaningless—yet God still ruled and was still able to bless his people! So, this collection of poems encourages readers to look beyond their despair, caused by the losses they had experienced, to a spiritual and historical reality in which God’s rule was undeniable despite the nonexistence of the physical trappings of that rule. The point seems quite clear: Yahweh reigned over Israel before there was a temple or a Zion or a David, so can he not still govern the affairs of his people now that these things no longer exist?

Pointing to Moses in Psalms 90–92 directs the readers to think of realities that predate their own existence and experience of God. Had the people come to focus their attention on the physical signs over and above the spiritual reality? Perhaps they had. So, the editors remind the people of a time when the reality of God’s rule was undeniable even though the signs were not present. Equally, however, there is movement within this collection as it transitions from petition (Ps 90) to promise (Ps 91) and, finally, to thanksgiving (Ps 92).

Psalm 90 begins as a lament over the susceptibility of humans to death and an expression of fear of an unpredictable divine wrath, culminating in the petition that Yahweh, in his steadfast love (hesed), might counter this wrath. This petition in Psalm 90 is answered in Psalm 91 with a twofold assent or promise. That this assent is not an empty word, but is fulfilled in the one who trusts in it, is then attested by the hymnic account of rescue in Psalm 92; in the process, individual formulations in Psalm 92 acquire additional dimensions of meaning in light of Psalms 90–91.22

In particular, there appears to be a thematic unity based on the idea of dwelling in the presence of God. The Mosaic Psalm 90 begins with the celebration of God as the “dwelling place” of generations of believers. Psalm 91 points to the protection afforded to those who take refuge in Yahweh—those who make the Most High their dwelling (v. 9). And, picking up on this same theme, Psalm 92 paints a picture of growth and fruitfulness for those who are “planted in the house of the LORD” (v. 13). The message of Psalms 90–92 is one that speaks of a faithful God who is a Rock and Refuge for his people. The rhetorical challenge of this collection of poems encourages the readers to place their trust in this God and to do so actively, with a real sense of hope and assurance. “Moses” speaks in Psalms 90–92 with a voice of certainty: “Place your trust in God because he is in control!”

Psalm 92 in the New Testament. There are no direct citations of Psalm 92 in the New Testament; however, “the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb” in Revelation 15:3–4 celebrates both the works of the Lord (cf. Ps 92:4) and the great justice of God (cf. Ps 92:15). Similarly, Revelation 16:5–7 focuses on the absolute justice of God in the exercise of judgment. In the book of Revelation there are, of course, strong echoes of the idea of eschatological justice found in Psalm 92. John’s Apocalypse also points to the ultimate justice of God despite the present injustices perpetrated by the wicked. Again, in the New Testament we see a scenario in which the oppressor may seem to hold the upper hand at various points of historical reality, but we also see that God’s undeniable justice will come to the fore in his time.

The idea of taking rest in Christ also echoes the overall theme of this Sabbath song. The famous verses of Matthew 11:28–29 point to Jesus as the Messiah who brings the Sabbath experience to his people. It is in relationship with him that his people find this peace, just as those who dwell in the house of Yahweh experience an edenic fruitfulness and idyll. Equally, Matthew 12:1–14 echoes this type of Sabbath experience as depicted in Psalm 92. The Sabbath is not about legalism and rule but about fullness and wholeness in relationship with God.

Contemporary Significance

FLEETING TYRANNY. For those of us in the Western world, tyranny is something that we normally experience from afar. Twenty-four hour news channels and the speed of the Internet give us almost instant access to eyewitness accounts of events happening thousands of miles and several time zones away. We are often faced with the unpleasant reality of seeing tyrants and dictators rise to authority at great cost to those dwelling in the lands where those rulers wield power. Such realities are all the more difficult for the many thousands of people who do not watch it from afar but experience it as their daily norm. It is one thing to hear and read about the killing fields of Cambodia or even to watch the news stories—it was quite another thing to experience the persecutions of Pol Pot.23 You can fill in the blanks today and every day. In the 1930s and 1940s it was Hitler in Germany. In the 1940s and 1950s it was Stalin in Russia. In the 1960s, Papa Doc Duvalier and the Tonton Macoutes ruled Haiti with an iron fist. In the 1970s, it was Idi Amin in Uganda and Pol Pot in Cambodia who wreaked havoc on their own peoples. In the late 1980s, the old communist dictatorships of Central and Eastern Europe began to crumble, but that did not prevent Slobodan Milošević from rising to power in Serbia and propagating his hateful ideology of ethnic cleansing in the Balkans in the early 1990s. The early years of the twenty-first century have been no better, and selective “regime change” by Western governments left countless other dictators in destructive power over their people—Kim Jong-un in North Korea, Bashar al-Assad in Syria, not to mention the Castros in Cuba or Lukashenko in Belarus or the apparently indeterminate power of ruling royal families throughout the Middle East. How is the person of faith to view such brutal regimes?

The answer as found in Psalm 92 is surprisingly simple on one level, yet incredibly challenging on another. The simple side of the problem of dictators is that, though they rule now with severe prejudice, justice and judgment are certain in God’s economy. They may inflict untold pain today and tomorrow or for some years to come, but ultimately their absolute demise and judgment at the hand of a righteous God is certain (vv. 6–8). Herein lies the “simple” side of seeing things from the divine perspective—all those who practice injustice shall face the judgment of a just God (vv. 9, 15). The more difficult side of this equation is “When?” Why should God’s judgment be “ultimate” and not “now”? Why are dictators left to reign for so long? Here is the imponderable question—but one that has to be asked. It is the “How long?” question of so many of the psalms of lament. The answer may not always satisfy us, but it is only right to ask the question. Injustice is always something that the church should lament, but it laments with a degree of hope because we rest in the sure knowledge that justice will be worked out—if not in our present experience, in God’s good time (see comments on Ps 75 above).

So, the message that Psalm 92 gives the reader is a perspective unattainable by “fools” (v. 6). God is forever exalted, whereas the wicked are forever destroyed (vv. 7–8).

Rejoicing in judgment? This perspective gives rise to a second question of practical application: Is it ever right to rejoice in judgment (and the associated suffering) of anyone, even the wicked? Clearly, the tone of thanksgiving in Ps 92 includes (or at least implies) giving thanks for judgment poured out on others. Can doing so ever be morally “right”? Does it not deny the New Testament’s teaching that we should “love [our] enemies and pray for those who persecute [us]” (Matt 5:44)? Superficially, this tone of thanksgiving at judgment may seem to be so very Old Testament, yet we are told that it is this same Jesus who “will judge the living and the dead” (2 Tim 4:1, emphasis added). Equally, Paul encourages us not to take vengeance for wrongs inflicted on us (Rom 12:18–21), yet he does so in the awareness that God will take such revenge. Is there a contradiction here?

As Christians longing to show compassion that reflects the grace we have received, we must never forget the innate sense of justice that God has instilled in his created order. Is it wrong to celebrate the demise of oppressive governments? Surely not, for the Bible makes it clear that Yahweh himself is the advocate pleading the case of the oppressed poor (Prov 22:22–23), and we should never ignore the advocacy of the Lord. In fact, Christians should be agents for change and advocates for the voiceless. While accepting that God will judge in accordance with his perfect timing, we should strive to make use of every means of influence we have to support those who suffer under cruel and vindictive rule. Every human being is imbued with inherent worth as one created in the image of God; therefore, Christians should be constantly active in defending the rights of the defenseless and speaking up for the voiceless.

So, is it wrong to give thanks for judgment worked out in history or eternity? No, because injustice should always grieve us, and the practice of justice should cause us to rejoice. C. Hassell Bullock comments: “Psalms give us a realistic view of the world. That is, they will not permit us to ignore the violence and evil of the world we live in.”24 Thanksgiving for divine judgment echoes of the indignation we should feel when injustice reigns on the earth. We pray “Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” and we rejoice when that kingdom does come little by little, more and more fully in our day.

1. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437; Schaefer, Psalms, 230.

2. Zenger points to an early Jewish tradition in the Mishnah that reads Ps 92 eschatologically: “The commentary in m. Tamid 7.4: ‘A psalm, a song for the future that is coming, for the day that is altogether a Sabbath of rest for eternal life.’ ” See Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437 n. 5.

3. The verb used here is zamar, from which is derived the Hebrew term for a “psalm” (mizmor). It is not absolutely clear whether this word refers to making music or singing praise, but either way something vibrant and noisy is in mind (see HALOT 2:273).

4. Again, it is not clear precisely which instruments are in view in verse 3, but there is a strong sense of musicality behind the psalmist’s declaration of praise. Zenger comments, “The types of lyre mentioned in v. 4 project the picture of a great orchestra, with v. 4b even indicating different performance techniques” (Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437).

5. Walton, ANE Thought, 105–12.

6. See Goldingay, Psalms 3, 55.

7. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

8. Broyles, Psalms, 365. Broyles points out that the Hebrew text “lacks the concessive though.”

9. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

10. The idea of scattering (v. 9) is often associated with judgment imagery in the Psalter (e.g., see Ps 1:4–5). The idea of scattering seems to correspond to notions of power and permanence. The wicked often abuse the power they hold and seem unshakable in their positions of social control. But from God’s perspective they are but chaff—lightweight, ephemeral, and passing—scattered by the slightest of winds.

11. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

12. Ibid.

13. There is a degree of complexity involved in reconstructing the verb here (see Th. Booij, “Psalm CXXXIX: Text, Syntax, Meaning,” VT LV.1 [2005]: 1–19), and if the root verb is balal, then the form is slightly awkward but not impossible (see Eaton, Psalms, 330).

14. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

15. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

16. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

17. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440.

18. “The righteous are like a stately and fertile tree, while the wicked are like short-lived grass” (Longman, Psalms, 334).

19. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440–41.

20. Ibid., 442.

21. Michael G. McKelvey, Moses, David and the High Kingship of Yahweh: A Canonical Study of Book IV of the Psalter, Gorgias Dissertations Biblical Studies 55 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2010), 281–96.

22. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 442.

23. See Don Cormack, Killing Fields, Living Fields: Faith in Cambodia (Fearn, UK: Christian Focus, 2009), for a moving account of those who experienced Pol Pot’s persecution yet refused to turn their backs on the God they loved.

24. Bullock, Encountering the Psalms, 246.

Original Meaning

Works, Thoughts and Judgment (92:4–8)

YOU MAKE ME GLAD BY YOUR DEEDS, LORD. The second stanza gives a more detailed rationale for the psalmist’s great willingness to praise. Just as it is good to praise God because of his character (v. 2), so also the works of the Lord give the psalmist reason to delight in worship. In the Old Testament, the idea of the Lord’s deeds or actions is associated with either (1) the mighty works of God (creation, the exodus, etc.) or (2) God’s saving work in the life of an individual. Given the personal declaration of praise in these verses, it is likely the latter that is in mind here. The positive experience of divine intervention has led the poet to this position of happiness. God has worked in his behalf, and he finds great gladness in this realization.

I sing for joy at what your hands have done. This recognition of God’s presence and personal help fills the speaker with a level of determination regardless of circumstances. The verb here may be read as either habitual or future action, that is, the poet generally sings for joy because of the works of God’s hands or he will sing for joy in the future because of his awareness of God’s help.6 Both options are grammatically possible, but, given the future focus of the following verses, verse 4b may well be read as a defiant declaration of a stable, future hope regardless of the prospect of difficult circumstances to come.

How great are your works, LORD, how profound your thoughts! Not only are the Lord’s works a great encouragement, so are his thoughts. The reference to the thoughts of Yahweh seems to apply specifically to the verses that follow, that is, to the divine perspective on reality that goes beyond the human perspective. Echoing the discussion found in Psalm 73, the poet ponders the difficult issue of the justice of God and the prosperity of the unjust. Some see the apparent well-being of the blatantly wicked oppressor as proof of a godless human reality. Psalm 92, however, summarizes the essence of the issue in a straightforward manner: God’s thoughts are higher than a human’s thoughts, and anyone who fails to realize this truth is nothing other than a fool (vv. 5–6).

Though the wicked spring up like grass . . . they will be destroyed forever. The author of Psalm 92 has none of the angst that is displayed in Psalm 73’s consideration of the same issue. No crisis of faith is implied in Psalm 92. The poet sees a spiritual reality that goes beyond the observable circumstances of the world around about him and has every confidence that God’s justice will be established unequivocally and for all time (v. 7). John Eaton comments, “The ‘works’ that give rise to the praise are now indicated a little more fully. They concern the judgment of the evildoers—judgment hidden, mysterious, sometimes apparently long delayed, but yet sure and inevitable.”7 The NIV’s rendering of this verse does not quite reflect the full force of the psalmist’s statement, which seems to imply a causal relationship between the prosperity of the wicked and their punishment to follow. The Hebrew text of verse 7 is perhaps better translated, “When the wicked spring up like grass and all the evil-doers flourish it is so that they might be destroyed forever.”8 This difference may seem relatively slight from a linguistic perspective, but the net effect is to present a strong image of Yahweh as just Judge. More than that, so embedded is Yahweh’s justice in his created order that it must inevitably come to the fore when injustice is perpetrated within that creation. The psalmist seems to suggest that the only possible purpose of the prosperity of the wicked is to establish once again the indisputable righteousness and the all-powerful judgment of Yahweh as King of the universe.

The imagery associated with time in this verse is also interesting. The wicked “spring up like grass,” an image that refers to the sudden flourishing of grasses and plant life after rains or heavy morning dew in the Middle East. But just as the sudden appearance of such grass is surprising, so equally the brevity of its existence is stark, as it is burned up by the strong, daytime, Palestinian sun.9 The poet’s point is unmistakable. In this imperfect world in which we live, those who reject God’s ways may indeed prosper, but they will do so only for a moment, whereas their punishment is long lasting.

But you, LORD, are exalted forever. Whatever exaltation oppressors may enjoy in this world, it is brief and ultimately empty. The Creator King, however, will always be praised (vv. 1–3) because of his justice (v. 7), because of his intervention into the real lives of human beings (vv. 4–5), and because of his good character (v. 2). In every generation there arise those who exalt themselves and demand the praise of their peers because of their great power or influence. But history teaches us that such tyrants, tycoons, and superstars are little more than blips on the radar of time. The eternal Creator, on the other hand, is praised forever because he is forever good and he is forever King.

Bridging Contexts

LINKS BETWEEN PSALMS 90–92. It seems that Psalms 90–92 form a mini-collection within Book 4 of the Psalter, linked around the figure of Moses. Psalm 90 is the only composition in the Psalter to carry a specific heading associating it with Moses. Psalm 91 uses the language of Deuteronomy to describe the psalmist’s devotion to God (Ps 91:14; cf. Deut 7:7; 10:15, where the same language is used to describe God’s love for Israel) and Yahweh’s protection of his people under his wings (Ps 91:4; cf. Deut 32:11). Deuteronomy, of course, is dominated by the presence and voice of Moses. Psalm 92, as we have seen above, is a “Song of the Sabbath,” and the Sabbath is associated with the giving of the law, which was mediated by Moses (Exod 20; Deut 5). So, this mini-collection of poems harks back to the days of Moses.21 Why so?

The inclusion of a Mosaic collection at the start of Book 4 seems to have resulted from a deliberate decision by the Psalter’s editors in response to the crisis of Davidic kingship, the theme that ends Book 3. Psalm 89 concludes Book 3 (Pss 73–89) with a voice that cries out in despair over the loss of the Davidic line, and this final voice echoes the desperation of the people expressed earlier in Book 3 over the loss of the temple and the fall of Jerusalem (see comments on Pss 74 and 76 above). So, from the perspective of the Psalter as a whole, Book 3 is dominated by a voice of lament and concludes with a strong expression of loss and discomfit concerning the demise of the Davidic line in the events of the exile. The basic tenor of the preceding collection is a voice that asks, “How are we to survive without the temple, without Zion, and without a king in the line of David to rule us?”

Psalms 90–92 respond to that voice of loss by pointing the readers of the Psalter to a time when there was no temple, when Jerusalem was still a “pagan” town, and when the concept of kingship barely registered in the psyche of God’s people, yet everything was fine! The editors respond to the multiple crises of the exile, as presented in Book 3, by redirecting the reader’s thoughts to the period of Moses’s leadership of an embryonic Israel. When Moses was in charge, the concepts of temple, holy city, and human king were (broadly speaking) meaningless—yet God still ruled and was still able to bless his people! So, this collection of poems encourages readers to look beyond their despair, caused by the losses they had experienced, to a spiritual and historical reality in which God’s rule was undeniable despite the nonexistence of the physical trappings of that rule. The point seems quite clear: Yahweh reigned over Israel before there was a temple or a Zion or a David, so can he not still govern the affairs of his people now that these things no longer exist?

Pointing to Moses in Psalms 90–92 directs the readers to think of realities that predate their own existence and experience of God. Had the people come to focus their attention on the physical signs over and above the spiritual reality? Perhaps they had. So, the editors remind the people of a time when the reality of God’s rule was undeniable even though the signs were not present. Equally, however, there is movement within this collection as it transitions from petition (Ps 90) to promise (Ps 91) and, finally, to thanksgiving (Ps 92).

Psalm 90 begins as a lament over the susceptibility of humans to death and an expression of fear of an unpredictable divine wrath, culminating in the petition that Yahweh, in his steadfast love (hesed), might counter this wrath. This petition in Psalm 90 is answered in Psalm 91 with a twofold assent or promise. That this assent is not an empty word, but is fulfilled in the one who trusts in it, is then attested by the hymnic account of rescue in Psalm 92; in the process, individual formulations in Psalm 92 acquire additional dimensions of meaning in light of Psalms 90–91.22

In particular, there appears to be a thematic unity based on the idea of dwelling in the presence of God. The Mosaic Psalm 90 begins with the celebration of God as the “dwelling place” of generations of believers. Psalm 91 points to the protection afforded to those who take refuge in Yahweh—those who make the Most High their dwelling (v. 9). And, picking up on this same theme, Psalm 92 paints a picture of growth and fruitfulness for those who are “planted in the house of the LORD” (v. 13). The message of Psalms 90–92 is one that speaks of a faithful God who is a Rock and Refuge for his people. The rhetorical challenge of this collection of poems encourages the readers to place their trust in this God and to do so actively, with a real sense of hope and assurance. “Moses” speaks in Psalms 90–92 with a voice of certainty: “Place your trust in God because he is in control!”

Psalm 92 in the New Testament. There are no direct citations of Psalm 92 in the New Testament; however, “the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb” in Revelation 15:3–4 celebrates both the works of the Lord (cf. Ps 92:4) and the great justice of God (cf. Ps 92:15). Similarly, Revelation 16:5–7 focuses on the absolute justice of God in the exercise of judgment. In the book of Revelation there are, of course, strong echoes of the idea of eschatological justice found in Psalm 92. John’s Apocalypse also points to the ultimate justice of God despite the present injustices perpetrated by the wicked. Again, in the New Testament we see a scenario in which the oppressor may seem to hold the upper hand at various points of historical reality, but we also see that God’s undeniable justice will come to the fore in his time.

The idea of taking rest in Christ also echoes the overall theme of this Sabbath song. The famous verses of Matthew 11:28–29 point to Jesus as the Messiah who brings the Sabbath experience to his people. It is in relationship with him that his people find this peace, just as those who dwell in the house of Yahweh experience an edenic fruitfulness and idyll. Equally, Matthew 12:1–14 echoes this type of Sabbath experience as depicted in Psalm 92. The Sabbath is not about legalism and rule but about fullness and wholeness in relationship with God.

Contemporary Significance

FLEETING TYRANNY. For those of us in the Western world, tyranny is something that we normally experience from afar. Twenty-four hour news channels and the speed of the Internet give us almost instant access to eyewitness accounts of events happening thousands of miles and several time zones away. We are often faced with the unpleasant reality of seeing tyrants and dictators rise to authority at great cost to those dwelling in the lands where those rulers wield power. Such realities are all the more difficult for the many thousands of people who do not watch it from afar but experience it as their daily norm. It is one thing to hear and read about the killing fields of Cambodia or even to watch the news stories—it was quite another thing to experience the persecutions of Pol Pot.23 You can fill in the blanks today and every day. In the 1930s and 1940s it was Hitler in Germany. In the 1940s and 1950s it was Stalin in Russia. In the 1960s, Papa Doc Duvalier and the Tonton Macoutes ruled Haiti with an iron fist. In the 1970s, it was Idi Amin in Uganda and Pol Pot in Cambodia who wreaked havoc on their own peoples. In the late 1980s, the old communist dictatorships of Central and Eastern Europe began to crumble, but that did not prevent Slobodan Milošević from rising to power in Serbia and propagating his hateful ideology of ethnic cleansing in the Balkans in the early 1990s. The early years of the twenty-first century have been no better, and selective “regime change” by Western governments left countless other dictators in destructive power over their people—Kim Jong-un in North Korea, Bashar al-Assad in Syria, not to mention the Castros in Cuba or Lukashenko in Belarus or the apparently indeterminate power of ruling royal families throughout the Middle East. How is the person of faith to view such brutal regimes?

The answer as found in Psalm 92 is surprisingly simple on one level, yet incredibly challenging on another. The simple side of the problem of dictators is that, though they rule now with severe prejudice, justice and judgment are certain in God’s economy. They may inflict untold pain today and tomorrow or for some years to come, but ultimately their absolute demise and judgment at the hand of a righteous God is certain (vv. 6–8). Herein lies the “simple” side of seeing things from the divine perspective—all those who practice injustice shall face the judgment of a just God (vv. 9, 15). The more difficult side of this equation is “When?” Why should God’s judgment be “ultimate” and not “now”? Why are dictators left to reign for so long? Here is the imponderable question—but one that has to be asked. It is the “How long?” question of so many of the psalms of lament. The answer may not always satisfy us, but it is only right to ask the question. Injustice is always something that the church should lament, but it laments with a degree of hope because we rest in the sure knowledge that justice will be worked out—if not in our present experience, in God’s good time (see comments on Ps 75 above).

So, the message that Psalm 92 gives the reader is a perspective unattainable by “fools” (v. 6). God is forever exalted, whereas the wicked are forever destroyed (vv. 7–8).

Rejoicing in judgment? This perspective gives rise to a second question of practical application: Is it ever right to rejoice in judgment (and the associated suffering) of anyone, even the wicked? Clearly, the tone of thanksgiving in Ps 92 includes (or at least implies) giving thanks for judgment poured out on others. Can doing so ever be morally “right”? Does it not deny the New Testament’s teaching that we should “love [our] enemies and pray for those who persecute [us]” (Matt 5:44)? Superficially, this tone of thanksgiving at judgment may seem to be so very Old Testament, yet we are told that it is this same Jesus who “will judge the living and the dead” (2 Tim 4:1, emphasis added). Equally, Paul encourages us not to take vengeance for wrongs inflicted on us (Rom 12:18–21), yet he does so in the awareness that God will take such revenge. Is there a contradiction here?

As Christians longing to show compassion that reflects the grace we have received, we must never forget the innate sense of justice that God has instilled in his created order. Is it wrong to celebrate the demise of oppressive governments? Surely not, for the Bible makes it clear that Yahweh himself is the advocate pleading the case of the oppressed poor (Prov 22:22–23), and we should never ignore the advocacy of the Lord. In fact, Christians should be agents for change and advocates for the voiceless. While accepting that God will judge in accordance with his perfect timing, we should strive to make use of every means of influence we have to support those who suffer under cruel and vindictive rule. Every human being is imbued with inherent worth as one created in the image of God; therefore, Christians should be constantly active in defending the rights of the defenseless and speaking up for the voiceless.

So, is it wrong to give thanks for judgment worked out in history or eternity? No, because injustice should always grieve us, and the practice of justice should cause us to rejoice. C. Hassell Bullock comments: “Psalms give us a realistic view of the world. That is, they will not permit us to ignore the violence and evil of the world we live in.”24 Thanksgiving for divine judgment echoes of the indignation we should feel when injustice reigns on the earth. We pray “Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” and we rejoice when that kingdom does come little by little, more and more fully in our day.

1. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437; Schaefer, Psalms, 230.

2. Zenger points to an early Jewish tradition in the Mishnah that reads Ps 92 eschatologically: “The commentary in m. Tamid 7.4: ‘A psalm, a song for the future that is coming, for the day that is altogether a Sabbath of rest for eternal life.’ ” See Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437 n. 5.

3. The verb used here is zamar, from which is derived the Hebrew term for a “psalm” (mizmor). It is not absolutely clear whether this word refers to making music or singing praise, but either way something vibrant and noisy is in mind (see HALOT 2:273).

4. Again, it is not clear precisely which instruments are in view in verse 3, but there is a strong sense of musicality behind the psalmist’s declaration of praise. Zenger comments, “The types of lyre mentioned in v. 4 project the picture of a great orchestra, with v. 4b even indicating different performance techniques” (Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437).

5. Walton, ANE Thought, 105–12.

6. See Goldingay, Psalms 3, 55.

7. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

8. Broyles, Psalms, 365. Broyles points out that the Hebrew text “lacks the concessive though.”

9. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

10. The idea of scattering (v. 9) is often associated with judgment imagery in the Psalter (e.g., see Ps 1:4–5). The idea of scattering seems to correspond to notions of power and permanence. The wicked often abuse the power they hold and seem unshakable in their positions of social control. But from God’s perspective they are but chaff—lightweight, ephemeral, and passing—scattered by the slightest of winds.

11. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

12. Ibid.

13. There is a degree of complexity involved in reconstructing the verb here (see Th. Booij, “Psalm CXXXIX: Text, Syntax, Meaning,” VT LV.1 [2005]: 1–19), and if the root verb is balal, then the form is slightly awkward but not impossible (see Eaton, Psalms, 330).

14. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

15. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

16. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

17. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440.

18. “The righteous are like a stately and fertile tree, while the wicked are like short-lived grass” (Longman, Psalms, 334).

19. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440–41.

20. Ibid., 442.

21. Michael G. McKelvey, Moses, David and the High Kingship of Yahweh: A Canonical Study of Book IV of the Psalter, Gorgias Dissertations Biblical Studies 55 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2010), 281–96.

22. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 442.

23. See Don Cormack, Killing Fields, Living Fields: Faith in Cambodia (Fearn, UK: Christian Focus, 2009), for a moving account of those who experienced Pol Pot’s persecution yet refused to turn their backs on the God they loved.

24. Bullock, Encountering the Psalms, 246.

Original Meaning

The Fall of the Lord’s Enemies (92:9–11)

FOR SURELY YOUR ENEMIES, LORD . . . WILL PERISH. Psalm 92 evidences the poet’s certainty of what the author of Psalm 73 comes to see only eventually. In Psalm 92 the poet is confident of the demise of the wicked and sure of their ultimate fate—things the author of Psalm 73 came to see only after an encounter with God in the place of worship (Ps 73:17). The unnamed author of Psalm 92 takes the long view on present circumstances and, based on his knowledge of God’s character, is confident that those who are unjust can never prosper in any ultimate sense under the rule and economy of a just God. The idea of the perishing of the wicked seems to be deliberately ambiguous. It may refer to the expectation that those who wield the sword will perish by the sword (as is so often evidenced in the machinations of kingship and succession in the books of Kings and Chronicles; e.g., see the fate of Zimri in 1 Kgs 16). But as seen in the previous stanza, Psalm 92 displays an absolute certainty that the wicked will inescapably face judgment at some point under the divine economy (cf. v. 7). The evildoers who appear to flourish (v. 7) will certainly meet their just deserts at some point in the future.10

You have exalted my horn like that of a wild ox. Just as the passing nature of injustice is emphasized in this strophe, so also the blessing and stability of the righteous comes to the fore as the concomitant effect of divine intervention in the events of this world. This idea becomes the focal point of the following strophe (vv. 12–15), but a foretaste of this theme is voiced in contrast to the ultimate demise of those who oppose Yahweh (v. 10; cf. vv. 9, 11). The metaphor of the horn in Old Testament poetic language can have several referents: strength (Ps 18:2), the strong one (often a reference to the king; e.g., Ps 89:17), or dignity/honor (Ps 112:9). Here the metaphor seems to apply to God-given strength that enables the psalmist to face up to the challenges of those who are hostile to God and his followers. The “wild ox” (re’em) is probably a reference to the auroch, a now-extinct wild bull common in the Syrian mountain region.11 In the ancient Near East the bull was often used to symbolize power and military victory (cf. Deut 33:17).

Fine oils have been poured on me. There is quite a contrast between the imagery of strength and victory in the bull (v. 10a) and the imagery of tranquil celebration in the pouring of oils (v. 10b). It is possible that the imagery in verse 10b is meant as a royal reference and that the anointing of the king is what the poet has in mind here.12 But the verb employed is probably balal (to moisten)13 rather than mashah, which is more typically used when the anointing of individuals to offices is in mind. The use of balal suggests an act of hospitality and refreshment—the pouring of oils on an honored guest.14 So the imagery combines to describe the strength and restoration of the believer at the hand of Yahweh. He intervenes in a hostile world to provide strength and to refresh his once-wearied people.15

My eyes have seen the defeat of my adversaries. Verse 11 is awkward inasmuch as there is no explicit mention of either the “defeat” or the “rout” noted in the NIV’s translation of this verse. Literally, the Hebrew reads, “My eye has seen my adversaries, those wicked ones rising up against me, my ears have heard.” There is no explicit notice of what it is that the poet has seen and heard regarding his enemies. This lack leads to a variety of approaches and translations among the commentators, but it is probably best to infer that what the psalmist “saw” was the defeat of his enemies and what he “heard” were the sounds associated with that defeat. Schaefer comments, “Just as the wicked thrive, their tragic and sudden end has been determined, and this is in sharp contrast to the righteous destined for God’s loving regard. The poet is an ear and eyewitness to this fact (v. 11).”16 Whatever was involved in the seeing and hearing by the poet, it is linked to the judgment brought about by God (v. 9). Interestingly, Yahweh’s enemies (v. 9) have become the psalmist’s enemies in verse 11. But we should probably not read too much into this development. Perhaps it simply implies that all enemies of Yahweh are necessarily enemies of those who side with Yahweh. Or perhaps verse 11 is a specific word of testimony that affirms the general principle—the poet has seen God’s judgment worked out in his own historical reality.

Bridging Contexts

LINKS BETWEEN PSALMS 90–92. It seems that Psalms 90–92 form a mini-collection within Book 4 of the Psalter, linked around the figure of Moses. Psalm 90 is the only composition in the Psalter to carry a specific heading associating it with Moses. Psalm 91 uses the language of Deuteronomy to describe the psalmist’s devotion to God (Ps 91:14; cf. Deut 7:7; 10:15, where the same language is used to describe God’s love for Israel) and Yahweh’s protection of his people under his wings (Ps 91:4; cf. Deut 32:11). Deuteronomy, of course, is dominated by the presence and voice of Moses. Psalm 92, as we have seen above, is a “Song of the Sabbath,” and the Sabbath is associated with the giving of the law, which was mediated by Moses (Exod 20; Deut 5). So, this mini-collection of poems harks back to the days of Moses.21 Why so?

The inclusion of a Mosaic collection at the start of Book 4 seems to have resulted from a deliberate decision by the Psalter’s editors in response to the crisis of Davidic kingship, the theme that ends Book 3. Psalm 89 concludes Book 3 (Pss 73–89) with a voice that cries out in despair over the loss of the Davidic line, and this final voice echoes the desperation of the people expressed earlier in Book 3 over the loss of the temple and the fall of Jerusalem (see comments on Pss 74 and 76 above). So, from the perspective of the Psalter as a whole, Book 3 is dominated by a voice of lament and concludes with a strong expression of loss and discomfit concerning the demise of the Davidic line in the events of the exile. The basic tenor of the preceding collection is a voice that asks, “How are we to survive without the temple, without Zion, and without a king in the line of David to rule us?”

Psalms 90–92 respond to that voice of loss by pointing the readers of the Psalter to a time when there was no temple, when Jerusalem was still a “pagan” town, and when the concept of kingship barely registered in the psyche of God’s people, yet everything was fine! The editors respond to the multiple crises of the exile, as presented in Book 3, by redirecting the reader’s thoughts to the period of Moses’s leadership of an embryonic Israel. When Moses was in charge, the concepts of temple, holy city, and human king were (broadly speaking) meaningless—yet God still ruled and was still able to bless his people! So, this collection of poems encourages readers to look beyond their despair, caused by the losses they had experienced, to a spiritual and historical reality in which God’s rule was undeniable despite the nonexistence of the physical trappings of that rule. The point seems quite clear: Yahweh reigned over Israel before there was a temple or a Zion or a David, so can he not still govern the affairs of his people now that these things no longer exist?

Pointing to Moses in Psalms 90–92 directs the readers to think of realities that predate their own existence and experience of God. Had the people come to focus their attention on the physical signs over and above the spiritual reality? Perhaps they had. So, the editors remind the people of a time when the reality of God’s rule was undeniable even though the signs were not present. Equally, however, there is movement within this collection as it transitions from petition (Ps 90) to promise (Ps 91) and, finally, to thanksgiving (Ps 92).

Psalm 90 begins as a lament over the susceptibility of humans to death and an expression of fear of an unpredictable divine wrath, culminating in the petition that Yahweh, in his steadfast love (hesed), might counter this wrath. This petition in Psalm 90 is answered in Psalm 91 with a twofold assent or promise. That this assent is not an empty word, but is fulfilled in the one who trusts in it, is then attested by the hymnic account of rescue in Psalm 92; in the process, individual formulations in Psalm 92 acquire additional dimensions of meaning in light of Psalms 90–91.22

In particular, there appears to be a thematic unity based on the idea of dwelling in the presence of God. The Mosaic Psalm 90 begins with the celebration of God as the “dwelling place” of generations of believers. Psalm 91 points to the protection afforded to those who take refuge in Yahweh—those who make the Most High their dwelling (v. 9). And, picking up on this same theme, Psalm 92 paints a picture of growth and fruitfulness for those who are “planted in the house of the LORD” (v. 13). The message of Psalms 90–92 is one that speaks of a faithful God who is a Rock and Refuge for his people. The rhetorical challenge of this collection of poems encourages the readers to place their trust in this God and to do so actively, with a real sense of hope and assurance. “Moses” speaks in Psalms 90–92 with a voice of certainty: “Place your trust in God because he is in control!”

Psalm 92 in the New Testament. There are no direct citations of Psalm 92 in the New Testament; however, “the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb” in Revelation 15:3–4 celebrates both the works of the Lord (cf. Ps 92:4) and the great justice of God (cf. Ps 92:15). Similarly, Revelation 16:5–7 focuses on the absolute justice of God in the exercise of judgment. In the book of Revelation there are, of course, strong echoes of the idea of eschatological justice found in Psalm 92. John’s Apocalypse also points to the ultimate justice of God despite the present injustices perpetrated by the wicked. Again, in the New Testament we see a scenario in which the oppressor may seem to hold the upper hand at various points of historical reality, but we also see that God’s undeniable justice will come to the fore in his time.

The idea of taking rest in Christ also echoes the overall theme of this Sabbath song. The famous verses of Matthew 11:28–29 point to Jesus as the Messiah who brings the Sabbath experience to his people. It is in relationship with him that his people find this peace, just as those who dwell in the house of Yahweh experience an edenic fruitfulness and idyll. Equally, Matthew 12:1–14 echoes this type of Sabbath experience as depicted in Psalm 92. The Sabbath is not about legalism and rule but about fullness and wholeness in relationship with God.

Contemporary Significance

FLEETING TYRANNY. For those of us in the Western world, tyranny is something that we normally experience from afar. Twenty-four hour news channels and the speed of the Internet give us almost instant access to eyewitness accounts of events happening thousands of miles and several time zones away. We are often faced with the unpleasant reality of seeing tyrants and dictators rise to authority at great cost to those dwelling in the lands where those rulers wield power. Such realities are all the more difficult for the many thousands of people who do not watch it from afar but experience it as their daily norm. It is one thing to hear and read about the killing fields of Cambodia or even to watch the news stories—it was quite another thing to experience the persecutions of Pol Pot.23 You can fill in the blanks today and every day. In the 1930s and 1940s it was Hitler in Germany. In the 1940s and 1950s it was Stalin in Russia. In the 1960s, Papa Doc Duvalier and the Tonton Macoutes ruled Haiti with an iron fist. In the 1970s, it was Idi Amin in Uganda and Pol Pot in Cambodia who wreaked havoc on their own peoples. In the late 1980s, the old communist dictatorships of Central and Eastern Europe began to crumble, but that did not prevent Slobodan Milošević from rising to power in Serbia and propagating his hateful ideology of ethnic cleansing in the Balkans in the early 1990s. The early years of the twenty-first century have been no better, and selective “regime change” by Western governments left countless other dictators in destructive power over their people—Kim Jong-un in North Korea, Bashar al-Assad in Syria, not to mention the Castros in Cuba or Lukashenko in Belarus or the apparently indeterminate power of ruling royal families throughout the Middle East. How is the person of faith to view such brutal regimes?

The answer as found in Psalm 92 is surprisingly simple on one level, yet incredibly challenging on another. The simple side of the problem of dictators is that, though they rule now with severe prejudice, justice and judgment are certain in God’s economy. They may inflict untold pain today and tomorrow or for some years to come, but ultimately their absolute demise and judgment at the hand of a righteous God is certain (vv. 6–8). Herein lies the “simple” side of seeing things from the divine perspective—all those who practice injustice shall face the judgment of a just God (vv. 9, 15). The more difficult side of this equation is “When?” Why should God’s judgment be “ultimate” and not “now”? Why are dictators left to reign for so long? Here is the imponderable question—but one that has to be asked. It is the “How long?” question of so many of the psalms of lament. The answer may not always satisfy us, but it is only right to ask the question. Injustice is always something that the church should lament, but it laments with a degree of hope because we rest in the sure knowledge that justice will be worked out—if not in our present experience, in God’s good time (see comments on Ps 75 above).

So, the message that Psalm 92 gives the reader is a perspective unattainable by “fools” (v. 6). God is forever exalted, whereas the wicked are forever destroyed (vv. 7–8).

Rejoicing in judgment? This perspective gives rise to a second question of practical application: Is it ever right to rejoice in judgment (and the associated suffering) of anyone, even the wicked? Clearly, the tone of thanksgiving in Ps 92 includes (or at least implies) giving thanks for judgment poured out on others. Can doing so ever be morally “right”? Does it not deny the New Testament’s teaching that we should “love [our] enemies and pray for those who persecute [us]” (Matt 5:44)? Superficially, this tone of thanksgiving at judgment may seem to be so very Old Testament, yet we are told that it is this same Jesus who “will judge the living and the dead” (2 Tim 4:1, emphasis added). Equally, Paul encourages us not to take vengeance for wrongs inflicted on us (Rom 12:18–21), yet he does so in the awareness that God will take such revenge. Is there a contradiction here?

As Christians longing to show compassion that reflects the grace we have received, we must never forget the innate sense of justice that God has instilled in his created order. Is it wrong to celebrate the demise of oppressive governments? Surely not, for the Bible makes it clear that Yahweh himself is the advocate pleading the case of the oppressed poor (Prov 22:22–23), and we should never ignore the advocacy of the Lord. In fact, Christians should be agents for change and advocates for the voiceless. While accepting that God will judge in accordance with his perfect timing, we should strive to make use of every means of influence we have to support those who suffer under cruel and vindictive rule. Every human being is imbued with inherent worth as one created in the image of God; therefore, Christians should be constantly active in defending the rights of the defenseless and speaking up for the voiceless.

So, is it wrong to give thanks for judgment worked out in history or eternity? No, because injustice should always grieve us, and the practice of justice should cause us to rejoice. C. Hassell Bullock comments: “Psalms give us a realistic view of the world. That is, they will not permit us to ignore the violence and evil of the world we live in.”24 Thanksgiving for divine judgment echoes of the indignation we should feel when injustice reigns on the earth. We pray “Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” and we rejoice when that kingdom does come little by little, more and more fully in our day.

1. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437; Schaefer, Psalms, 230.

2. Zenger points to an early Jewish tradition in the Mishnah that reads Ps 92 eschatologically: “The commentary in m. Tamid 7.4: ‘A psalm, a song for the future that is coming, for the day that is altogether a Sabbath of rest for eternal life.’ ” See Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437 n. 5.

3. The verb used here is zamar, from which is derived the Hebrew term for a “psalm” (mizmor). It is not absolutely clear whether this word refers to making music or singing praise, but either way something vibrant and noisy is in mind (see HALOT 2:273).

4. Again, it is not clear precisely which instruments are in view in verse 3, but there is a strong sense of musicality behind the psalmist’s declaration of praise. Zenger comments, “The types of lyre mentioned in v. 4 project the picture of a great orchestra, with v. 4b even indicating different performance techniques” (Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437).

5. Walton, ANE Thought, 105–12.

6. See Goldingay, Psalms 3, 55.

7. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

8. Broyles, Psalms, 365. Broyles points out that the Hebrew text “lacks the concessive though.”

9. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

10. The idea of scattering (v. 9) is often associated with judgment imagery in the Psalter (e.g., see Ps 1:4–5). The idea of scattering seems to correspond to notions of power and permanence. The wicked often abuse the power they hold and seem unshakable in their positions of social control. But from God’s perspective they are but chaff—lightweight, ephemeral, and passing—scattered by the slightest of winds.

11. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

12. Ibid.

13. There is a degree of complexity involved in reconstructing the verb here (see Th. Booij, “Psalm CXXXIX: Text, Syntax, Meaning,” VT LV.1 [2005]: 1–19), and if the root verb is balal, then the form is slightly awkward but not impossible (see Eaton, Psalms, 330).

14. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

15. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

16. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

17. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440.

18. “The righteous are like a stately and fertile tree, while the wicked are like short-lived grass” (Longman, Psalms, 334).

19. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440–41.

20. Ibid., 442.

21. Michael G. McKelvey, Moses, David and the High Kingship of Yahweh: A Canonical Study of Book IV of the Psalter, Gorgias Dissertations Biblical Studies 55 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2010), 281–96.

22. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 442.

23. See Don Cormack, Killing Fields, Living Fields: Faith in Cambodia (Fearn, UK: Christian Focus, 2009), for a moving account of those who experienced Pol Pot’s persecution yet refused to turn their backs on the God they loved.

24. Bullock, Encountering the Psalms, 246.

Original Meaning

The Righteous Flourish (92:12–15)

THE RIGHTEOUS WILL FLOURISH LIKE A PALM TREE . . . LIKE A CEDAR OF LEBANON. The contrasting imagery in the closing verses of Psalm 92 points to the growth, fruitfulness, and permanence of the people of God when they live life in his presence. Those rejecting Yahweh are like grass—they flourish quickly but soon wither (v. 7). The righteous, however, are like the palm tree and the cedar—both grow slowly but live long (v. 12). These arboreal similes communicate images of perpetual growth and fruitfulness. Zenger points out that the cedars of Lebanon, “even at the age of three thousand years, can still produce seed-bearing cones.”17 Picking up on the tree imagery of Psalm 1:3, the poet again draws the reader’s attention to the notion that human stability and personal growth are dependent on right relationship with the Creator.18

Planted in the house of the LORD , they will flourish. Continuing the same theme, the poet makes a strong association between the temple and the fruitful life. This association stems from the idea of the temple’s being a type of edenic, garden sanctuary—the locus of great fruitfulness (note the imagery associated with the temple in 1 Kgs 6).19 But with the passage of time the physical temple comes to be read also as a metaphorical image of divine presence. In remaining close to Yahweh the believer lives life under his blessing, protection, and providential care, thus allowing her to experience the fullness of human existence that springs only from communion with God.

They will still bear fruit in old age. Like the cedars of Lebanon, fruitfulness should never diminish with age. The type of fellowship with God implied in these verses leads to a lifestyle that remains constantly fertile. The believer is continually growing and bearing fruit—she never reaches a stage in which continued growth becomes optional.

Proclaiming, “The LORD is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.” The concluding voice of Psalm 92 is a voice of praise and assurance. Echoing the confidence of the opening verses (vv. 1–3), the poet declares Yahweh to be both morally dependable (“upright,” “there is no wickedness in him”) and his source of strength (“my Rock”). Verse 15 seems to be a deliberate echo of Moses’s song in Deuteronomy 32:4. The focus of both passages is on the ultimate and inescapable justice of God. This thought brings great hope to the poet because he knows that ultimately the wicked, who appear to prosper in the here and now, will not succeed. But equally, Yahweh’s justice is the guarantee of his support for those who desire to walk in his right paths. God’s reign is celebrated in Psalm 92. He is described as the “Most High” at the beginning of the psalm (v. 1). In the middle (v. 8) he is “forever exalted” (i.e., “on high forever”—another reign image). And finally, here at the end, he is the Rock “who renders unshakable both the cosmos and every individual righteous person.”20 God rules undeniably, and in this truth his followers find sure hope.

Bridging Contexts

LINKS BETWEEN PSALMS 90–92. It seems that Psalms 90–92 form a mini-collection within Book 4 of the Psalter, linked around the figure of Moses. Psalm 90 is the only composition in the Psalter to carry a specific heading associating it with Moses. Psalm 91 uses the language of Deuteronomy to describe the psalmist’s devotion to God (Ps 91:14; cf. Deut 7:7; 10:15, where the same language is used to describe God’s love for Israel) and Yahweh’s protection of his people under his wings (Ps 91:4; cf. Deut 32:11). Deuteronomy, of course, is dominated by the presence and voice of Moses. Psalm 92, as we have seen above, is a “Song of the Sabbath,” and the Sabbath is associated with the giving of the law, which was mediated by Moses (Exod 20; Deut 5). So, this mini-collection of poems harks back to the days of Moses.21 Why so?

The inclusion of a Mosaic collection at the start of Book 4 seems to have resulted from a deliberate decision by the Psalter’s editors in response to the crisis of Davidic kingship, the theme that ends Book 3. Psalm 89 concludes Book 3 (Pss 73–89) with a voice that cries out in despair over the loss of the Davidic line, and this final voice echoes the desperation of the people expressed earlier in Book 3 over the loss of the temple and the fall of Jerusalem (see comments on Pss 74 and 76 above). So, from the perspective of the Psalter as a whole, Book 3 is dominated by a voice of lament and concludes with a strong expression of loss and discomfit concerning the demise of the Davidic line in the events of the exile. The basic tenor of the preceding collection is a voice that asks, “How are we to survive without the temple, without Zion, and without a king in the line of David to rule us?”

Psalms 90–92 respond to that voice of loss by pointing the readers of the Psalter to a time when there was no temple, when Jerusalem was still a “pagan” town, and when the concept of kingship barely registered in the psyche of God’s people, yet everything was fine! The editors respond to the multiple crises of the exile, as presented in Book 3, by redirecting the reader’s thoughts to the period of Moses’s leadership of an embryonic Israel. When Moses was in charge, the concepts of temple, holy city, and human king were (broadly speaking) meaningless—yet God still ruled and was still able to bless his people! So, this collection of poems encourages readers to look beyond their despair, caused by the losses they had experienced, to a spiritual and historical reality in which God’s rule was undeniable despite the nonexistence of the physical trappings of that rule. The point seems quite clear: Yahweh reigned over Israel before there was a temple or a Zion or a David, so can he not still govern the affairs of his people now that these things no longer exist?

Pointing to Moses in Psalms 90–92 directs the readers to think of realities that predate their own existence and experience of God. Had the people come to focus their attention on the physical signs over and above the spiritual reality? Perhaps they had. So, the editors remind the people of a time when the reality of God’s rule was undeniable even though the signs were not present. Equally, however, there is movement within this collection as it transitions from petition (Ps 90) to promise (Ps 91) and, finally, to thanksgiving (Ps 92).

Psalm 90 begins as a lament over the susceptibility of humans to death and an expression of fear of an unpredictable divine wrath, culminating in the petition that Yahweh, in his steadfast love (hesed), might counter this wrath. This petition in Psalm 90 is answered in Psalm 91 with a twofold assent or promise. That this assent is not an empty word, but is fulfilled in the one who trusts in it, is then attested by the hymnic account of rescue in Psalm 92; in the process, individual formulations in Psalm 92 acquire additional dimensions of meaning in light of Psalms 90–91.22

In particular, there appears to be a thematic unity based on the idea of dwelling in the presence of God. The Mosaic Psalm 90 begins with the celebration of God as the “dwelling place” of generations of believers. Psalm 91 points to the protection afforded to those who take refuge in Yahweh—those who make the Most High their dwelling (v. 9). And, picking up on this same theme, Psalm 92 paints a picture of growth and fruitfulness for those who are “planted in the house of the LORD” (v. 13). The message of Psalms 90–92 is one that speaks of a faithful God who is a Rock and Refuge for his people. The rhetorical challenge of this collection of poems encourages the readers to place their trust in this God and to do so actively, with a real sense of hope and assurance. “Moses” speaks in Psalms 90–92 with a voice of certainty: “Place your trust in God because he is in control!”

Psalm 92 in the New Testament. There are no direct citations of Psalm 92 in the New Testament; however, “the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb” in Revelation 15:3–4 celebrates both the works of the Lord (cf. Ps 92:4) and the great justice of God (cf. Ps 92:15). Similarly, Revelation 16:5–7 focuses on the absolute justice of God in the exercise of judgment. In the book of Revelation there are, of course, strong echoes of the idea of eschatological justice found in Psalm 92. John’s Apocalypse also points to the ultimate justice of God despite the present injustices perpetrated by the wicked. Again, in the New Testament we see a scenario in which the oppressor may seem to hold the upper hand at various points of historical reality, but we also see that God’s undeniable justice will come to the fore in his time.

The idea of taking rest in Christ also echoes the overall theme of this Sabbath song. The famous verses of Matthew 11:28–29 point to Jesus as the Messiah who brings the Sabbath experience to his people. It is in relationship with him that his people find this peace, just as those who dwell in the house of Yahweh experience an edenic fruitfulness and idyll. Equally, Matthew 12:1–14 echoes this type of Sabbath experience as depicted in Psalm 92. The Sabbath is not about legalism and rule but about fullness and wholeness in relationship with God.

Contemporary Significance

FLEETING TYRANNY. For those of us in the Western world, tyranny is something that we normally experience from afar. Twenty-four hour news channels and the speed of the Internet give us almost instant access to eyewitness accounts of events happening thousands of miles and several time zones away. We are often faced with the unpleasant reality of seeing tyrants and dictators rise to authority at great cost to those dwelling in the lands where those rulers wield power. Such realities are all the more difficult for the many thousands of people who do not watch it from afar but experience it as their daily norm. It is one thing to hear and read about the killing fields of Cambodia or even to watch the news stories—it was quite another thing to experience the persecutions of Pol Pot.23 You can fill in the blanks today and every day. In the 1930s and 1940s it was Hitler in Germany. In the 1940s and 1950s it was Stalin in Russia. In the 1960s, Papa Doc Duvalier and the Tonton Macoutes ruled Haiti with an iron fist. In the 1970s, it was Idi Amin in Uganda and Pol Pot in Cambodia who wreaked havoc on their own peoples. In the late 1980s, the old communist dictatorships of Central and Eastern Europe began to crumble, but that did not prevent Slobodan Milošević from rising to power in Serbia and propagating his hateful ideology of ethnic cleansing in the Balkans in the early 1990s. The early years of the twenty-first century have been no better, and selective “regime change” by Western governments left countless other dictators in destructive power over their people—Kim Jong-un in North Korea, Bashar al-Assad in Syria, not to mention the Castros in Cuba or Lukashenko in Belarus or the apparently indeterminate power of ruling royal families throughout the Middle East. How is the person of faith to view such brutal regimes?

The answer as found in Psalm 92 is surprisingly simple on one level, yet incredibly challenging on another. The simple side of the problem of dictators is that, though they rule now with severe prejudice, justice and judgment are certain in God’s economy. They may inflict untold pain today and tomorrow or for some years to come, but ultimately their absolute demise and judgment at the hand of a righteous God is certain (vv. 6–8). Herein lies the “simple” side of seeing things from the divine perspective—all those who practice injustice shall face the judgment of a just God (vv. 9, 15). The more difficult side of this equation is “When?” Why should God’s judgment be “ultimate” and not “now”? Why are dictators left to reign for so long? Here is the imponderable question—but one that has to be asked. It is the “How long?” question of so many of the psalms of lament. The answer may not always satisfy us, but it is only right to ask the question. Injustice is always something that the church should lament, but it laments with a degree of hope because we rest in the sure knowledge that justice will be worked out—if not in our present experience, in God’s good time (see comments on Ps 75 above).

So, the message that Psalm 92 gives the reader is a perspective unattainable by “fools” (v. 6). God is forever exalted, whereas the wicked are forever destroyed (vv. 7–8).

Rejoicing in judgment? This perspective gives rise to a second question of practical application: Is it ever right to rejoice in judgment (and the associated suffering) of anyone, even the wicked? Clearly, the tone of thanksgiving in Ps 92 includes (or at least implies) giving thanks for judgment poured out on others. Can doing so ever be morally “right”? Does it not deny the New Testament’s teaching that we should “love [our] enemies and pray for those who persecute [us]” (Matt 5:44)? Superficially, this tone of thanksgiving at judgment may seem to be so very Old Testament, yet we are told that it is this same Jesus who “will judge the living and the dead” (2 Tim 4:1, emphasis added). Equally, Paul encourages us not to take vengeance for wrongs inflicted on us (Rom 12:18–21), yet he does so in the awareness that God will take such revenge. Is there a contradiction here?

As Christians longing to show compassion that reflects the grace we have received, we must never forget the innate sense of justice that God has instilled in his created order. Is it wrong to celebrate the demise of oppressive governments? Surely not, for the Bible makes it clear that Yahweh himself is the advocate pleading the case of the oppressed poor (Prov 22:22–23), and we should never ignore the advocacy of the Lord. In fact, Christians should be agents for change and advocates for the voiceless. While accepting that God will judge in accordance with his perfect timing, we should strive to make use of every means of influence we have to support those who suffer under cruel and vindictive rule. Every human being is imbued with inherent worth as one created in the image of God; therefore, Christians should be constantly active in defending the rights of the defenseless and speaking up for the voiceless.

So, is it wrong to give thanks for judgment worked out in history or eternity? No, because injustice should always grieve us, and the practice of justice should cause us to rejoice. C. Hassell Bullock comments: “Psalms give us a realistic view of the world. That is, they will not permit us to ignore the violence and evil of the world we live in.”24 Thanksgiving for divine judgment echoes of the indignation we should feel when injustice reigns on the earth. We pray “Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” and we rejoice when that kingdom does come little by little, more and more fully in our day.

1. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437; Schaefer, Psalms, 230.

2. Zenger points to an early Jewish tradition in the Mishnah that reads Ps 92 eschatologically: “The commentary in m. Tamid 7.4: ‘A psalm, a song for the future that is coming, for the day that is altogether a Sabbath of rest for eternal life.’ ” See Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437 n. 5.

3. The verb used here is zamar, from which is derived the Hebrew term for a “psalm” (mizmor). It is not absolutely clear whether this word refers to making music or singing praise, but either way something vibrant and noisy is in mind (see HALOT 2:273).

4. Again, it is not clear precisely which instruments are in view in verse 3, but there is a strong sense of musicality behind the psalmist’s declaration of praise. Zenger comments, “The types of lyre mentioned in v. 4 project the picture of a great orchestra, with v. 4b even indicating different performance techniques” (Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 437).

5. Walton, ANE Thought, 105–12.

6. See Goldingay, Psalms 3, 55.

7. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

8. Broyles, Psalms, 365. Broyles points out that the Hebrew text “lacks the concessive though.”

9. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

10. The idea of scattering (v. 9) is often associated with judgment imagery in the Psalter (e.g., see Ps 1:4–5). The idea of scattering seems to correspond to notions of power and permanence. The wicked often abuse the power they hold and seem unshakable in their positions of social control. But from God’s perspective they are but chaff—lightweight, ephemeral, and passing—scattered by the slightest of winds.

11. Eaton, Psalms, 330.

12. Ibid.

13. There is a degree of complexity involved in reconstructing the verb here (see Th. Booij, “Psalm CXXXIX: Text, Syntax, Meaning,” VT LV.1 [2005]: 1–19), and if the root verb is balal, then the form is slightly awkward but not impossible (see Eaton, Psalms, 330).

14. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

15. Goldingay, Psalms 3, 57.

16. Schaefer, Psalms, 231.

17. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440.

18. “The righteous are like a stately and fertile tree, while the wicked are like short-lived grass” (Longman, Psalms, 334).

19. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 440–41.

20. Ibid., 442.

21. Michael G. McKelvey, Moses, David and the High Kingship of Yahweh: A Canonical Study of Book IV of the Psalter, Gorgias Dissertations Biblical Studies 55 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias, 2010), 281–96.

22. Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 2, 442.

23. See Don Cormack, Killing Fields, Living Fields: Faith in Cambodia (Fearn, UK: Christian Focus, 2009), for a moving account of those who experienced Pol Pot’s persecution yet refused to turn their backs on the God they loved.

24. Bullock, Encountering the Psalms, 246.