Thanks to everyone who wrote about the first post in this series. I always wonder if anyone is reading these, so it’s wonderful to receive such excellent feedback! I’ll get to your suggestions in time.
For now, let me go to Psalm 2. One of the most brilliant interpretations of the psalm is the one in Handel’s “Messiah,” which puts it just before the “Hallelujah Chorus.” God’s triumph over the evils of the world comes about in the resurrection of Jesus, when God justifies the righteous and foreshadows the ultimate triumph over death and Evil writ large. Handel made this jump because it had been suggested to him by the use of Psalm 2 in Acts 4:25-31. The intensity and jumbledness (what’s the right word?) of the voices in Handel’s song capture just the right mood to understand the madness of the foes of God in the Psalm. I can hear the music in my head as I write, perhaps suggesting that I need some help!
But never mind that. The Psalm makes four moves. Verses 1-3 describe the threats that foreign nations pose to little Judah. Verses 4-6 describe Yhwh, the God of Israel, as the ruler of the world. The Psalmist challenges the normal understanding of reality, which counts and weighs armies and treasuries as part of its moral calculus. “Think again,” the Psalmist says. Verses 7-9 offer the perspective of the king in Zion, the descendant of David, who relies on divine protection against overwhelming odds. Then verses 10-12 conclude by calling on the nations’ leaders to repent of their evil ways.
What to make of this little song? Modern scholars tend to think of it as a political hymn, probably from a coronation service. I think that makes sense for its original setting, as best we can recover it. But the book of Psalms has reused it for different purposes, placing it alongside other hymns that have other meanings. Somehow, it must speak to the wise reader and singer of the book, the sort of person that Psalm 1 has said the whole collection is designed to aid in his or her pursuit of God. What should we learn from the Psalm?
Many things, perhaps, but let me name two. The first is that, since God truly is the benevolent and just sovereign of the world, we should not be intimidated by other claims to absolute value, whether political, economic, intellectual, or spiritual. God is God, and we are not. But, by the way, we should also not confuse “lack of intimidation” with belligerence (as so often happens with Christian defenders nowadays. As I write this, I’m thinking of Anne Rice’s very public departure from Christianity while stating that she does not want to leave Christ. We’ve all felt that way sometimes.) The quiet confidence that God will make the world right, even when we don’t know how that will happen, underlies our lives of worship. As we Arkansas might say (but don’t; I’m making this up), the banty rooster struts most when he’s least confident in his crowing.
Second, this trust directly affects how we worship. I’m not sure if I can get this part of the post in a clear logical order, but let me try. Do we struggle so much with performance in worship — whether that means getting it right for God or getting it right for people — that we come to think that God is someone we can manage, or that God is some sort of being whose superiority means we must try to be impressive (like I try when I present a report to our board, say)? Or does the kind of trust that allows the psalmist to count the enemy hordes and say that one single promise from God outperforms all of them also inspire us? Worship is not a performance. It is life. And life is worship.
Thank you for your interactions on this series. There is more to come, and we will stay here awhile. Let me hear your reflections on this and other Psalms and their implications for life.
I must take issue with your final statement. Life is not worship. Life is service. Worship is one of the services I give to God as I serve Him in life.
Thanks, Michael. Why is it either/or rather than both/and? How can you sustain service without a sense of the transcendent and humans’ belonging to the transcendent? Can a secular view of life sustain itself (very doubtful, I think)? On the other hand, how can you worship the God of the Bible without caring about the people God created? Or maybe we are defining “worship” differently. I’m defining it as an expression of our awe before God.