If Psalm 28 is notable for its quiet celebration of the mercies of God, Psalm 29 is one of the noisiest texts ever written. Its evocation of thunder (“the voice of Yhwh on the waters”), earthquake (“Lebanon skips….Yhwh’s voice makes the wilderness writhe”), and splitting trees could inspire terror and concerns about the character of God. But the Psalmist emphasizes something different: the awe-inspiring nature of God’s interventions in the world. Whether the reader has something to fear depends on which side of the fence he or she sits on.
As many scholars have noted, the psalm resembles lyrics from Ugarit, the “Canaanite” city on the coast that was destroyed just before Israel became a prominent entity, and whose texts (discovered beginning in 1929) have greatly deepened our understanding of the religion of the entire area. In those texts, Baal, El, Asherah, and other deities figure as sympathetic (usually!) beings, not the foes of the true God. The texts remind us that the religion of Canaan was believed by many people, a fact that the Bible recognizes, but we tend to forget because we have accepted the Bible’s views of that set of religious practices.
Psalm 29 takes up the older language of theophany (the appearance of God) and transfers it to Yhwh, indicating Israel’s experience of who the true deity is. The psalm also extends that language a bit, moving it from the north (Lebanon, Sirion) to the south (wilderness of Kadesh), thus offering a comprehensively Israelite perspective. By calling on the “sons of El” or “sons of God” (v. 1) to worship Yhwh, the Psalm subordinates all possible rivals to God, thus making a strong theological claim about the unity of the Godhead. (Note: the “sons of El” were a group of beings that were eventually called “angels,” but at the time of the composition of the psalm were thought of as minor deities [compare Ps 82].) Yhwh alone can move the world about and reorder it as necessary.
For those of us living in 2011, a psalm like this offers a needed reminder of two things. One is that God is not simply a nice companion on the journey, or an enabler of whatever our fondest dreams are. God is immensely, incalculably powerful. This power is always used for the good of the creation, but that good may catch us out if we ourselves act contrary to that good end. The second reminder is that sometimes we need a bit of noise in our religion. We need to confess our own wonderment at the work of God. The psalmist imagines his or her hearers crying out in the temple (where presumably the psalm was sung) “glory” (Hebrew: kavod), a word expressing their stunned response to the awe-inspiring nature of God’s work among them. Maybe such words expressing our inability to control or manage God would be helpful to us today. More than maybe. Surely.
Ascribe to Yhwh, glory and strength. Now. Today. Here. With me and you. Amen.