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The general message of this Psalm is that absence of the fear of the Lord that characterizes the wicked is outmatched by the covenant love of the Lord, which encompasses the world, humans and animals alike, and reaches the heavens, but the literary genre of Psalm 36 is a bit elusive. Some scholars say it has elements of wisdom in 36:1–4, becomes a hymn in 36:5–10, and then…
1 An oracle is within my heart concerning the sinfulness of the wicked: There is no fear of God before his eyes.
2 For in his own eyes he flatters himself too much to detect or hate his sin.
3 The words of his mouth are wicked and deceitful; he has ceased to be wise and to do good.
4 Even on his bed he plots evil; he commits himself to a sinful course and does not reject what is wrong.
5 Your love, O Lord , reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies.
6 Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your justice like the great deep. O Lord , you preserve both man and beast.
7 How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.
8 They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights.
9 For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.
10 Continue your love to those who know you, your righteousness to the upright in heart.
11 May the foot of the proud not come against me, nor the hand of the wicked drive me away.
12 See how the evildoers lie fallen- thrown down, not able to rise!
Psalm 36 is a proverbial psalm; essentially every verse describes either the wicked and how they act (36:1–4, 11–12) or God and the godly and how they act (36:5–10). Only rarely does David reveal his presence (36:1, 9, 11). Being self-absorbed and intentionally destructive of others, the wicked care nothing about God (36:1–2, 4). They enjoy that which is sinful and harmful rather than that which is good (36:3–4). God, however, displays a rich love toward all people regardless of their status (36:5–7, 10). He deals with them justly, protecting and delivering them (36:6–7). Thus the godly recognize him as the source of life and light, in whom is bountiful pleasure (36:8–9). David wants to avoid the attacks of the wicked and their destiny—when they fall, they are unable to rise again (36:11–12).
Big Idea: The absence of the fear of the Lord that characterizes the wicked is outmatched by the covenant love of the Lord, which encompasses the world, humans and animals alike, and reaches the heavens.
Understanding the Text
The literary genre of Psalm 36 is a bit elusive. Dahood says it has elements of wisdom in 36:1–4, becomes a hymn in 36:5–10, and then is a lament in 36:11–12. This, of course, is not the only instance when the form-critical method of analyzing the Psalms fails. In Dahood’s words: “The coexistence of three literary types within a poem of thirteen verses [in Hebrew] points up the limitations of the form-critical approach to the Psalter.”[1] Craigie prefers the classification of a wisdom psalm but recognizes that the form does not give much reason for it.[2] Ultimately, we simply have to admit that Psalm 36 represents a multiple-genre composition and remind ourselves that the psalmists were not working by the form-critical method.[3] The method, with much in its favor, is for our benefit, and we need not be surprised when the biblical writers do not meet our expectations.
Psalm 36 follows the injunction of praise in 35:27 that celebrates the Lord’s delight in the “well-being of his servant.” If we allow the title of Psalm 36 to inform us, then “his servant” is likely David, and in a prophetic voice (“an oracle”; see below) he recounts the godless disposition of the wicked, commemorates the covenant love of the Lord, and prays that God will continue his covenant love and prevent any further damage by the “foot of the proud” and the “hand of the wicked” (36:11; cf. 36:1). Like Psalm 14, which laments the godless disposition of David’s world, this lamentation comes close to that but stops short of saying that people deny God’s existence, with perhaps only a hair’s breadth between “there is no God” (14:1) and “there is no fear of God before their eyes” (36:1). Indeed, the disposition of the wicked as expressed in 36:1b is a good summary of the kind of evil represented by the subjects of Psalm 35, who have no regard for the innocent, the social equivalent of their flagrant spiritual mood. Psalm 36 presents a picture of a totally different world where the love (hesed) of God reaches the heavens and exceeds the height of the mountains. This is the world known to God’s servant David and the “upright in heart” (36:10).
Only here and in Psalm 18 (title) is David called the “servant of the Lord.” In fact, the two titles are exact duplicates, except for the historical note appended to the title of Psalm 18. In view of Moses’s role as prophet par excellence (Deut. 18:15–22), Craigie proposes that the first word in the body of the psalm (ne’um, “an oracle”; NIV: “message”) be treated as an introduction to a prophetic message, as it is in the last words of David (“oracle of David, son of Jesse,” 2 Sam. 23:1) and the oracle of Balaam (“the oracle of Balaam the son of Beor,” Num. 24:3 ESV). In that case we would ignore the maqqef (a connecting mark of punctuation) in the Hebrew text that joins the word to the following word (“sinfulness”). Generally, however, ne’um is used as a concluding word of a prophecy, especially in Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, and can be translated nominally (“oracle of the Lord”) or verbally (“says the Lord”; e.g., Jer. 1:8).
Outline/Structure
Craigie draws attention to two terms in this psalm that give a chiastic structure of thought: “wicked” (36:1) and “love” (36:5), and the reverse order of “love” (36:10) and “wicked” (36:11). The predominant place of these terms in each of these four sections sets the theme of the psalm, with the term “wicked” forming an inclusio:[4]
A The behavior of the wicked (36:1–4)
B The Lord’s love (36:5–9)
B? Prayer for love (36:10)
A? Prayer for protection from the wicked (36:11–12)
Historical and Cultural Background
As we have seen already in our study, the world of the Psalms was a vicious world, where personal and political evil was rampant, and often the innocent suffered and had no reprisal. In Psalm 35 that innocent person was the king, victimized by a host of evildoers who had no sense of justice. With Psalm 36, in that world of injustice and stark evil, something absolutely astonishing has happened: God has revealed his covenant love to Israel and offered them a “fountain of life” to slake their intense thirst and a light to guide them through that dark world (36:9).
Interpretive Insights
Title the servant of the Lord. See “The Text in Context.” Wilson suggests that, since most of the references to “servant of the Lord” are to Moses, this occurrence “may well suggest that a messianic interpretation of David . . . is already in operation here rather than a straightforward historical one.”5
36:1 I have a message . . . concerning the sinfulness of the wicked. Taking the phrase “concerning the sinfulness of the wicked” as part of the oracle, and wickedness (“sinfulness,” pesha‘) as a personification, the sentence would read: “An oracle. Wickedness [speaks] concerning the evil one, that there is no fear of God before his eyes.” (On ne’um, “message,” as “oracle,” see “The Text in Context.”)
no fear of God. Whether the last part of the verse is intended to be a direct quotation of the wicked’s words or merely a summary of that person’s words,[6] it provides the reader with the essence of the wicked person’s attitude. The word “fear” (pahad) is used in a double sense, “fear [pahad] of God” because he is Judge, and the “fear [yir’ah] of God” because he is Savior (e.g., 34:11). Along with several Old Testament texts to support the argument, Paul quotes Psalm 36:1b in Romans 3:18 to declare that both Jews and gentiles are under the power of sin. Paul very likely hears this universal note in the phrase “sons of man” (36:7; NIV: “people”).
36:2–4 In their own eyes they flatter themselves too much to detect or hate their sin. Verse 2 is difficult to translate (especially the last phrase) and may mean, as the NIV renders it, they “flatter themselves” to the extent that they cannot recognize their own sin so as to hate it. As verse 3 explains, “the words of their mouths are wicked and deceitful.” The process begins in their self-deception, is expressed in their words, and perverts their actions (“they fail to act wisely or do good,” 36:3), culminating in a life totally bent to their wicked way of thinking (“on their beds” and “a sinful course [or “way”],” 36:4a, b).[7] The final disposition, parallel to their failure to “do good,” is that they “do not reject what is wrong” (36:4c). The progression then, like that of Psalm 1, is laid out in sinister clarity. See Psalm 12:3 for the notion of “flattery.”
The words of their mouths are wicked and deceitful. The words “wicked” (’awen) and “deceit” (sheqer) occur together also in Psalm 7:14, where “deceit” is parallel to “falsehood” (sheqer; NIV: “disillusionment”). The latter part of the verse shows that moral decline has spiraled down from thought to actions.
Even on their beds they plot evil . . . and do not reject what is wrong. The verbs here are Hebrew imperfects, implying continuous action—it has become a practice of life for them. The reality that they “do not reject what is wrong” is a summary of the final stage of the downward spiral. The verb “reject” (m’s) is used in Psalm 78:67 to speak of Yahweh’s rejection of the Leah side of Jacob’s family (Saul) in favor of the Rachel side (David). It is a clear rejection of one alternative over another.
36:5 Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies. Here begins the stanza (36:5–9) that is dominated by the four nouns of 36:5 and 6: “love” (hesed), “faithfulness” (’emunah), “righteousness” (tsedaqah), and “justice” (mishpat). The psalmist means to say that as the mountains are established on the “great deep,” the entire world is founded upon love, faithfulness, righteousness, and justice.[8] See also Psalms 57:10; 89:14.
The extent of God’s “love” is measured by the altitude of the heavens.[9] The created world, of course, is in view, and one cannot avoid the idea of the Creator who sustains the world with his love. The phrase “your faithfulness to the skies” is parallel to “your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens.” In Deuteronomy 32:4 “a God of truth/faithfulness” (’emunah; NIV: “faithful God”) means that God conducts the world in a just manner.[10] The word translated as “skies” means “curtains” and refers evidently to thin, lacelike clouds.
36:6 like the highest mountains. Literally, “like the mountains of God [’el].” Jonah 3:3 uses the divine name ’elohim (“God”) in a similar way to suggest greatness: “Nineveh was a very large city” (lit., “a great city to God”). The fact that the mountains are not as high as the heavens should not be taken to suggest that God’s righteousness is less significant than his love and faithfulness. They are metaphors of greatness.
your justice like the great deep. God’s “judgments” (NIV: “justice”) are the principles by which God sustains the world, principles based on justice and righteousness.[11] The “great deep” (tehom rabbah; see Gen. 7:11; Amos 7:4; cf. Ps. 78:15) in ancient cosmology was the waters, or the seas, on which the foundations of the earth rested. God’s judgments, therefore, are firm and enduring like the waters of the seas (see Jon. 2:6–7). For the notion of God preserving “people and animals,” see Genesis 8:1 and 9:15. Three words in this verse appear both in the Genesis narrative of creation (Gen. 1) and the Noah story: “the deep,” “man” (’adam; NIV: “people”), and “cattle.” Israel’s God is the same God who created the world and then delivered evil humankind from the flood.
36:7 How priceless is your unfailing love . . . take refuge in the shadow of your wings. “How” (mah) implies astonishment (cf. Ps. 31:19, “How great is Your goodness” [NASB]). The mother bird’s fledglings take refuge under her wings (Deut. 32:11; Ruth 2:12; Pss. 17:8; 57:1; 91:4; Matt. 23:37). Some commentators see an allusion to the wings of the cherubim in Solomon’s temple or on the ark of the covenant, but since there seems to be no indication of this psalm’s use in worship (which, of course, does not rule it out), the metaphor can stand on its own.
36:8 the abundance of your house . . . your river of delights. The word for “abundance” is literally “oil” or “fat,” which represents the abundance (Pss. 23:5; 63:5). Perhaps the idea of drinking from God’s river is an allusion to Genesis 2:10: “A river watering the garden flowed from Eden.” The word translated as “delights” is a derivative from the Hebrew word for “Eden,” alluding perhaps to the pleasures of the garden of Eden.
36:9 For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light. The word for “fountain” is the “spring” or “source” of water (Prov. 25:26 [NIV: “well”]; Zech. 13:1). Note Jeremiah’s statement, “They have forsaken me, the spring of living water” (Jer. 2:13). Perhaps the reference to “light” is also an allusion to Genesis 1:3–5, the primordial light by which the whole world is lighted. Note also that “light” and “life” are parallel terms, light being a symbol of life.
36:10 Continue your love to those who know you . . . to the upright in heart. The two groups, “those who know you” and “the upright in heart,” are synonymous (Pss. 7:10; 11:2; 32:11; Deut. 9:5).
36:11 the foot of the proud. The anatomy of the wicked is completed here with “foot” and “hand”; these body parts, used for movement and actions, complement the members of sight and speech in 36:2 and 3. These four members form a merism to suggest the entire person. Now the suppliant prays that the “foot of the proud” and the “hand of the wicked” would not do him the harm that they have the potential for doing. The physiognomy of the wicked (eyes, mouth, foot, and hand; 36:1–3, 11)[12] implies their total dedication to sinister purposes.
36:12 See how the evildoers lie fallen—thrown down, not able to rise! This implies that the psalmist’s request has been granted. It represents the opposite of what is promised to the righteous in Proverbs 24:16: “though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.”
Theological Insights
In addition to outlining the progression of evil (see the comments on 36:2–4), verse 2 gives us another discerning insight into the profile of evil: “In their own eyes they flatter themselves too much to detect or hate their sin.” How one perceives oneself is critical to one’s spiritual well-being. An inflated or a deflated view of oneself has spiritual implications. The matter here is that the evildoers who flatter themselves cannot recognize their own sin and hate it—their flattery covers it up. It is an expression of pride, sometimes defined as an overinflated view of oneself, and reflective of the original sin of Genesis 3. When confronted, Adam blamed Eve, and Eve blamed the serpent. In his lineup of the seven deadly sins, Gregory the Great insists that pride is the head sin from which all others have their origins.[13] Whether the problem of the prideful person is an inability to detect his or her sin or an inability to acknowledge it—two different stages of spiritual consciousness—it nevertheless represents evil’s power to deceive and set its patrons on a fixated course against God’s world and God’s love.
Teaching the Text
The Psalms basically speak of evil in terms of those who perpetrate it rather than in abstract terms, and Psalm 36 is a good example of that. Verses 1–4 describe the general attitude of the wicked (“There is no fear of God before their eyes”) and how they live out that disposition in self-flattery, deceitful talk, and relentless plotting. Then verses 5–10 draw a sharp contrast between this portrait and God’s love (hesed), and the vocabulary of the psalm puts God’s love in the context of the creation story: heavens, deep (tehom), mountains, man (’adam), and beast. One of the beautiful features of this psalm is that it declares the love of God to be ubiquitous in this world that God made—it “reaches to the heavens” (36:5a). The presence of evildoers is a formidable problem in every age of history, but the love of God is simply “priceless” (36:7a).
If we are not careful, verse 2 will become a red herring to lead us on the wrong trail in our quest for the substance of the psalm—it is not the world’s wickedness but God’s love that takes center stage. The psalmist paints his own picture of the multiplex of divine virtues: God’s love, faithfulness, righteousness, and justice (36:5–6). And it is important to remind ourselves that these are communicable attributes—God shares them with us, and God commands that we imitate them. While this mandate is not the subject of Psalm 36, it certainly is a major theme of the Psalter. God’s love, indeed, is the way to overcome in this evil world.
The final verse of the psalm gives us a snapshot of the battlefield strewn with evil’s fallen comrades, a picture of the triumph of good. We may remind ourselves of John’s equivalent message of the triumph of good over evil: “the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). It is the victory of God’s love.
Illustrating the Text
Compared to what?
Popular Culture: In the United States today, the majority of people claim to be Christian. The reality is that Christians often compare their lives to the norms of our culture rather than to the standard of biblical truth. An example of this is the divorce rate in America. We often hear the claim that Christians divorce at roughly the same rate as non-Christians. Actually, this is misleading. According to Bradley Wright, a sociologist at the University of Connecticut, people who identify themselves as “Christian” but rarely attend church have a divorce rate of about 60 percent. However, the divorce rate of those who attend church regularly is only 38 percent, far below the national average.[14] In Psalm 36 we see that there is a marked difference in perspective, and morality, of those who walk with God and those who do not (the “wicked”). When we evaluate our lives, we must do so in light of God’s Word and not in light of what is normative in the culture. There should be a significant difference between the way God’s people live and the lives of nonbelievers.
The danger of pride
History: For many people, the name General George Custer is synonymous with pride. Custer was known as a daring, impetuous leader with high ambitions. Some historians believe his foolish attack at Little Big Horn was motivated, in part, by his desire to be president. What is clear from that day is that Custer, seeking personal glory, made military decisions that would ensure that the credit for the victory would go to him and his Seventh Cavalry. His pride led to his demise. Had Custer followed orders that day, he would have probably been reinforced by General George Crook’s two thousand men and survived the day.[15] Pride is always a danger, and we are reminded of its impact in Psalm 36. Here we see that pride can keep us from looking honestly at our own lives so that we do not even see our own sin. Pride can lead to disaster when it keeps us from seeing the danger of our faults and weaknesses.
Come clean before God.
Bible: Even we who believe can have times where we flatter ourselves to the point where we do not see our own sinful nature. We feel smug because we compare ourselves to “the people of the world” rather than examine ourselves in the light of God’s Word. Read Matthew 22:36–40, and ask your listeners to reflect on these questions:
Is the Lord the first love of your life?
Are you giving obediently and sacrificially to the work of God?
Do you love and serve your enemies?
Have you forgiven those who have hurt you?
Are you sacrificing for others?
These questions reflect God’s standards. The reality is that not one of us is innocent. But as we read in Psalm 36, not only is God righteous and just, but his love is unfailing and faithful (see 1 John 1:9).
Direct Matches
A surface to recline on for the purpose of sleep, convalescence, contemplation, and sexual activity. Construction ranged from a portable straw mat (Mark 6:55; Acts 9:34) to raised frames crafted of wood, metal, or stone inlaid with precious metals and jewels (Deut. 3:11; Amos 6:4) and topped with luxurious coverings (Prov. 7:16, 17; 31:22). The mats of poor people might be rolled up and stowed away during the day to save space when they slept in a common room (Luke 11:7). The rich reclined on permanent structures in rooms designated for sleeping (Exod. 8:3; 2 Kings 6:12), but people of more modest means also had bedrooms (2 Kings 4:10).
The most commonly cited use of a bed is not for sleeping (Ps. 132:3; Luke 11:7) but for convalescing (Gen. 48:2; Exod. 21:18; 2 Sam. 13:5; Ps. 41:3; Matt. 8:14; Acts 28:8) or dying (Gen. 49:33; 2 Kings 1:4, 6, 16). Elijah restores life to a boy after placing him on a bed (1 Kings 17:19; cf. Elisha in 2 Kings 4:21, 34, 35). Murder is attempted (1 Sam. 19:13, 15, 16) or accomplished (2 Sam. 4:7, 11; 2 Chron. 24:25) in bed.
The bed is for sexual activity, whether honorable (Song 1:16; Heb. 13:4) or not (Gen. 39:7, 10, 12; 49:4; 2 Sam. 13:11). People mope and mourn on beds (1 Kings 21:4; Ps. 6:6; Song 3:1; Hos. 7:14), loaf (Prov. 26:14), plot evil (Ps. 36:4; Mic. 2:1), meditate and rejoice (Pss. 4:4; 63:6; 149:5), and experience visions (Dan. 2:28; 4:5; 7:1). The bed is a metaphor for the grave (Job 7:13; 17:13; Ezek. 32:25).
The OT depicts God as riding on a cloud (Judg. 5:4; Isa. 19:1; Pss. 18:11 12; 68:4; 104:3), and as the creator and sender of clouds: “Ask rain from the Lord in the season of the spring rain; from the Lord who makes the storm clouds, and he will give them showers of rain, to everyone the vegetation in the field” (Zech. 10:1 ESV [see also 1 Kings 18:44; Pss. 135:7; 147:8; Prov. 8:28; Isa. 5:6; Jer. 10:13]). Divine judgment is pictured as a dark storm (Isa. 30:30; Lam. 2:1; Nah. 1:3; Zech. 1:15).
At several crucial points God manifested his presence among the Israelites in the form of a cloud: in the wilderness (the “pillar of cloud” of Exod. 13:21 and elsewhere), on Mount Sinai (Exod. 19:9; 24:15), in the tabernacle (Exod. 40:34), in the temple at Jerusalem (1 Kings 8:10), and frequently in the visions of Ezekiel (e.g., Ezek. 1:4; 10:3).
The NT continues the imagery of the cloud as a manifestation of divine presence in the story of the transfiguration (Matt. 17:5; Mark 9:7; Luke 9:36), and also in depictions of Jesus as a cloud-rider in Matt. 26:64; Rev. 14:14 (see Dan. 7:13). Jesus was hidden by a cloud when he ascended (Acts 1:9), and believers will be caught up by clouds at his return (1 Thess. 4:17; Rev. 11:12).
The second king of Israel (r. 1010 970 BC), founder of a dynasty that continued with his son Solomon (r. 970–931 BC), who ruled all of Israel; subsequently the remaining “sons of David” ruled the southern kingdom, Judah, until 586 BC.
Human kingship is a late development in Israel, but a number of ancient texts anticipate the establishment of the institution (Gen. 17:6; Deut. 17:14–20) and specifically the rise of a king from Judah (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:17). Thus, it is surprising that the first king of Israel is not from Judah, but from Benjamin. When the people ask Samuel for a king, he anoints Saul (1 Sam. 8–12), who proves to be a tremendous disappointment. He forfeits the establishment of his dynasty when he shows a lack of confidence in God by rashly offering prebattle sacrifices (13:13–14). God then rejects Saul as king because he does not execute God’s full judgment against the Amalekites as he knows he should (15:23).
Eventually Saul’s moment of judgment comes. Saul’s final battle is against the Philistines, the major foreign force still inside the borders of the promised land. Both Saul and Jonathan meet their end on Mount Gilboa, and David sings songs that express his sadness over their deaths (1 Sam. 31–2 Sam. 1).
Even with Saul out of the way, David’s rise to kingship is not easy. He is immediately crowned king of Judah (2 Sam. 2:1–7), but the northern tribes choose to follow Ish-Bosheth, the son of Saul. War erupts between the two kingdoms. Eventually, though, the powerful general Abner abandons his support of Saul’s son, sealing the end of that dynasty. Ish-Bosheth is killed by his own men, and soon David becomes king over all Israel (5:1–5).
David’s kingship leads to significant victories that, in essence, complete the conquest of Canaan by finally subduing all the internal enemies. His men take the city of Jerusalem from the Jebusites, and he makes it his capital (2 Sam. 5:6–16). He also defeats the Philistines, who have been a thorn in the side of Israel for years (2 Sam. 5:17–25; for other victories, see 8:1–14). In celebration, David brings the ark of the covenant to Jerusalem (2 Sam. 6).
The David narrative reaches its apex when God enters into a covenant with him that establishes his dynasty (2 Sam. 7; 1 Chron. 17). After David dies, his son will succeed him, and indeed his dynasty lasts for many hundreds of years (see below).
David is a good king, but not a perfect king. A turning point in his reign comes in 2 Sam. 11. Up to this point, David has been content with what God has given him. He does not grasp for anything that does not belong to him. However, when he sees the beautiful Bathsheba bathing, he sends messengers to bring her to his house, where the two have sexual intercourse and she becomes pregnant. In an attempt to conceal this sin of adultery, he orders the death of her husband, Uriah the Hittite. Thus, he adds the crime of murder to that of adultery.
David thinks that the sin is secret, but nothing is hidden from God, who sends his prophet Nathan to confront David (2 Sam. 12; cf. Ps. 51). The difference between Saul and David is not that the latter is perfect but rather that David, as opposed to Saul, repents when he sins. Thus, God allows his reign to continue. Even so, David feels the consequences of his sin. First, the son that Bathsheba bears from her illicit union with David is struck with illness and dies. And ever afterward, David’s family life is troubled, with great impact on the political life of Israel. Son is pitted against son (Amnon and Absalom [2 Sam. 13]), as well as son against father (Absalom and David [2 Sam. 15–18]). Absalom temporarily deposes his father from the throne, but David eventually regains the kingship, though at the cost of the heartbreaking loss of his son.
Even at the very end, there is conflict within David’s house. When David has grown old, another son, Adonijah, attempts to take the throne, with support from powerful people such as Joab and Abiathar. At the instigation of Bathsheba and Nathan, however, David places the son of his choosing, Solomon, on the throne (1 Kings 1). David then dies after a reign of forty-one years, seven in Hebron and the rest over all Israel (1 Kings 2:10–12).
David’s greatest legacy is the dynasty that bears his name. Beginning with Solomon, however, his successors do not continue his spiritual legacy. Although a number of kings do some good, only Hezekiah (r. 727–698 BC) and Josiah (r. 639–609 BC) are given unqualified approval. Eventually, the Davidic rule comes to an end in Jerusalem at the hands of the Babylonians (586 BC). But God is not done with his redemptive purposes, and his promise to David is that he will have a ruler on the throne “forever” (2 Sam. 7:16). The NT recognizes that Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of this promise. He is the greater son of David, the one who is the Christ or Messiah, the anointed king. Jesus is the one who reigns forever in heaven. The life and the rule of David foreshadow the messianic rule of Jesus Christ.
Faith in the context of the OT rests on a foundation that the person or object of trust, belief, or confidence is reliable. Trust in Yahweh is expressed through loyalty and obedience. The theme of responsive obedience is emphasized in the Torah (Exod. 19:5). In the later history of Israel, faithfulness to the law became the predominant expression of faith (Dan. 1:8; 6:10). OT faith, then, is a moral response rather than abstract intellect or emotion.
Faith is a central theological concept in the NT. In relational terms, faith is foremost personalized as the locus of trust and belief in the person of Jesus Christ.
In the Gospels, Jesus is spoken of not as the subject of faith (as believing in God), but as the object of faith. In the Synoptic Gospels, faith is seen most often in connection with the ministry of Jesus. Miracles, in particular healings, are presented as taking place in response to the faith of the one in need of healing or the requester. In the Gospel of John, faith (belief) is presented as something that God requires of his people (6:28 29).
In the book of Acts, “faith/belief” is used to refer to Jews and Gentiles converting to following the life and teachings of Jesus Christ and becoming part of the Christian community. The book correlates faith in Christ closely with repentance (Acts 11:21; 19:18; 20:21; 26:18).
Paul relates faith to righteousness and justification (Rom. 3:22; 5:11; Gal. 3:6). In Ephesians faith is shown as instrumental in salvation: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God” (2:8).
In Hebrews, faith is described as “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (11:1). Faith thus is viewed as something that can be accomplished in the life of the believer—a calling of God not yet tangible or seen. To possess faith is to be loyal to God and to the gospel of Jesus Christ despite all obstacles. In the Letter of James, genuine works naturally accompany genuine faith. Works, however, are expressed in doing the will of God. The will of God means, for example, caring for the poor (James 2:15–16).
In 1 Peter, Christ is depicted as the broker of faith in God (1:21), whereas in 2 Peter and Jude faith is presented as received from God (2 Pet. 1:1). In the Letters of John “to believe” is used as a litmus test for those who possess eternal life: “You who believe in the name of the Son of God, . . . you have eternal life” (1 John 5:13).
In Proverbs, the phrase “fountain [maqor] of life” refers to the mouth of a righteous man (10:11), the law of the wise (13:14; cf. 18:4), the fear of the Lord (14:27; cf. Ps. 36:9), and understanding (Prov. 16:22). Similarly, Jer. 2:13 describes God as a fountain of living water, an idea echoed in Rev. 21:6. In Prov. 5:18 the fountain (along with wells, cisterns, streams, and springs) symbolizes the fecundity of marriage.
The “fountains of the deep” mentioned in Gen. 7:11; 8:2 (NIV: “springs of the deep”); Prov. 8:28 refer to a particular aspect of ancient cosmology: the notion that the terrestrial earth is supported by pillars (see Job 9:6; Ps. 75:3) above a subterranean sea. In the story of the great flood, the “fountains” of this sea, the “great deep,” were a source of the waters of the flood.
Physiologically, the heart is an organ in the body, and in the Bible it is also used in a number of metaphors.
Metaphorically, the heart refers to the mind, the will, the seat of emotions, or even the whole person. It also refers to the center of something or its inner part. These metaphors come from the heart’s importance and location.
Mind. The heart refers to the mind, but not the brain, and in these cases does not involve human physiology. It is a metaphor, and while the neurophysiology of the heart may be interesting in its own right, it has no bearing on this use of language. Deuteronomy 6:5 issues the command to love God with all one’s heart, soul, and strength. When the command is repeated in the Gospels, it occurs in three variations (Matt. 22:37; Mark 12:30; Luke 10:27). Common to all three is the addition of the word “mind.” The Gospel writers want to be sure that the audience hears Jesus adding “mind,” but this addition is based on the fact that the meaning of the Hebrew word for “heart” includes the mind.
The mental activities of the metaphorical heart are abundant. The heart is where a person thinks (Gen. 6:5; Deut. 7:17; 1 Chron. 29:18; Rev. 18:7), where a person comprehends and has understanding (1 Kings 3:9; Job 17:4; Ps. 49:3; Prov. 14:13; Matt. 13:15). The heart makes plans and has intentions (Gen. 6:5; 8:21; Prov. 20:5; 1 Chron. 29:18; Jer. 23:20). One believes with the heart (Luke 24:25; Acts 8:37; Rom. 10:9). The heart is the site of wisdom, discernment, and skill (Exod. 35:34; 36:2; 1 Kings 3:9; 10:24). The heart is the place of memory (Deut. 4:9; Ps. 119:11). The heart plays the role of conscience (2 Sam. 24:10; 1 John 3:20 21).
It is often worth the effort to substitute “mind” for “heart” when reading the Bible in order to grasp the mental dimension. For example, after telling the Israelites to love God with all their heart, Moses says, “These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts” (Deut. 6:6). Reading it instead as “be on your mind” changes our perspective, and in this case the idiom “on your mind” is clearer and more accurate. The following verses instruct parents to talk to their children throughout the day about God’s words. In order for parents to do this, God’s requirements and deeds need to be constantly on their minds, out of their love for him. Similarly, love for God and loyalty are expressed by meditation on and determination to obey his law (Ps. 119:11, 112). The law is not merely a list of rules; it is also a repository of a worldview in which the Lord is the only God. To live consistently with this truth requires careful, reflective thought.
Emotions and attitude. The heart, as the seat of emotion, is associated with a number of feelings and sentiments, such as gladness (Exod. 4:14; Acts 2:26), hatred (Lev. 19:17), pride (Deut. 8:14), resentment (Deut. 15:10), dread (Deut. 28:67), sympathy (Judg. 5:9), love (Judg. 16:15), sadness (1 Sam. 1:8; John 16:6), and jealousy and ambition (James 3:14). The heart is also the frame of reference for attitudes such as willingness, courage, and desire.
Sin enters the biblical story in Gen. 3. Despite God’s commandment to the contrary (2:16 17), Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil at the prompting of the serpent. When Adam joined Eve in eating the fruit, their rebellion was complete. They attempted to cover their guilt and shame, but the fig leaves were inadequate. God confronted them and was unimpressed with their attempts to shift the blame. Judgment fell heavily on the serpent, Eve, and Adam; even creation itself was affected (3:17–18).
In the midst of judgment, God made it clear in two specific ways that sin did not have the last word. First, God cryptically promised to put hostility between the offspring of the serpent and that of the woman (Gen. 3:15). Although the serpent would inflict a severe blow upon the offspring of the woman, the offspring of the woman would defeat the serpent. Second, God replaced the inadequate covering of the fig leaves with animal skins (3:21). The implication is that the death of the animal functioned as a substitute for Adam and Eve, covering their sin.
In one sense, the rest of the OT hangs on this question: How will a holy God satisfy his wrath against human sin and restore his relationship with human beings without compromising his justice? The short answer is: through Abraham and his offspring (Gen. 12:1–3), who eventually multiplied into the nation of Israel. After God redeemed them from their slavery in Egypt (Exod. 1–15), he brought them to Sinai to make a covenant with them that was predicated on obedience (19:5–6). A central component of this covenant was the sacrificial system (e.g., Lev. 1–7), which God provided as a means of dealing with sin. In addition to the regular sacrifices made for sin throughout the year, God set apart one day a year to atone for Israel’s sins (Lev. 16). On this Day of Atonement the high priest took the blood of a goat into the holy of holies and sprinkled it on the mercy seat as a sin offering. Afterward he took a second goat and confessed “all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and sending it away into the wilderness. . . . The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to a barren region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness” (Lev. 16:21–22 NRSV). In order for the holy God to dwell with sinful people, extensive provisions had to be made to enable fellowship.
During the next four hundred years of prophetic silence, the longing for God to finally put away the sins of his people grew. At last, when the conception and birth of Jesus were announced, it was revealed that he would “save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). In the days before the public ministry of Jesus, John the Baptist prepared the way for him by “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 3:3). Whereas both Adam and Israel were disobedient sons of God, Jesus proved to be the obedient Son by his faithfulness to God in the face of temptation (Matt. 2:13–15; 4:1–11; 26:36–46; Luke 3:23–4:13; Rom. 5:12–21; Phil. 2:8; Heb. 5:8–10). He was also the Suffering Servant who gave his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45; cf. Isa. 52:13–53:12). On the cross Jesus experienced the wrath of God that God’s people rightly deserved for their sin. With his justice fully satisfied, God was free to forgive and justify all who are identified with Christ by faith (Rom. 3:21–26). What neither the law nor the blood of bulls and goats could do, Jesus Christ did with his own blood (Rom. 8:3–4; Heb. 9:1–10:18).
After his resurrection and ascension, Jesus’ followers began proclaiming the “good news” (gospel) of what Jesus did and calling to people, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38). As people began to experience God’s forgiveness, they were so transformed that they forgave those who sinned against them (Matt. 6:12; 18:15–20; Col. 3:13). Although believers continue to struggle with sin in this life (Rom. 8:12–13; Gal. 5:16–25), sin is no longer master over them (Rom. 6:1–23). The Holy Spirit empowers them to fight sin as they long for the new heaven and earth, where there will be no sin, no death, and no curse (Rom. 8:12–30; Rev. 21–22).
As even this very brief survey of the biblical story line from Genesis to Revelation shows, sin is a fundamental aspect of the Bible’s plot. Sin generates the conflict that drives the biblical narrative; it is the fundamental “problem” that must be solved in order for God’s purposes in creation to be completed.
The concept of justice pervades the Bible, especially, though not exclusively, the OT. The biblical concept of justice is an embodiment of two contemporary concepts: righteousness and justice. The former designates compliance with the divine norm, while the latter emphasizes conformity to a societal standard of what is right and equitable. Focusing exclusively on the latter hinders the correct understanding of justice in the biblical sense.
The source of justice is God himself. It flows from his essential character as one who is both just and righteous, whose actions are flawless, perfect, upright, and just (Deut. 32:4; 1 Sam. 12:7; 2 Sam. 22:31; Job 37:23; Ps. 89:14). God is the righteous lawgiver, hence the one who establishes the norm for right conduct (Deut. 4:4 8; Ps. 19:7–9). He requires justice of all his creatures (cf. Gen. 9:5–6; Exod. 21:12, 28–29). God also judges righteously (Gen. 18:25; 1 Kings 8:32; Ps. 9:4, 9; Jer. 9:24) and defends and vindicates the weak and oppressed (Deut. 10:18; Ps. 103:6). The responsibility of maintaining justice in the human community, however, he delegates to its leaders, such as civil magistrates or political officials, and requires them to execute this responsibility with integrity, equity, and impartiality (Deut. 1:16–17; 16:18–20; Ps. 82:2–4; Prov. 31:8–9; John 7:24; 1 Pet. 2:13–14). God’s requirement of justice in the human community is not limited to its leaders only; it is incumbent upon everyone therein (Ps. 15:1–5; Mic. 6:8; Zech. 7:9; 8:17; Matt. 23:23).
God begins his creation with light, which precedes the creation of sun, moon, and stars and throughout Scripture is an unqualified good (Gen. 1:3 5, 15–18; Exod. 10:23; 13:21). In the ancient world, people rarely traveled at night and usually went to bed soon after sunset. The only light in the home was a small oil lamp set on a stand, which burned expensive olive oil. Light is a biblical synonym for life (Job 3:20; John 8:12). Seeing the light means living (Ps. 49:19; see also Job 33:30). Conversely, darkness is often a symbol of adversity, disaster, and death (Job 30:26; Isa. 8:22; Jer. 23:12; Lam. 3:2).
John, who offers perhaps the most profound meditations on light, claims that God is light (1 John 1:5). The predicate appropriates the intrinsic beauty of light, a quality that draws people’s hearts back to the author of beauty. For the apostle, light represents truth and signifies God’s will in opposition to the deception of the world (John 1:9; 12:46). Light stands for purity and signifies God’s holiness as opposed to the unrighteousness of the world (John 3:19–21). Light is where God is, and it radiates from the place of fellowship between God and his creation (John 1:7).
Mercy is a distinguishing characteristic of the nature of God. God is called “the Father of mercies” (2 Cor. 1:3 NRSV [NIV: “Father of compassion”]). God is “rich in mercy” (Eph. 2:4; cf. 2 Sam. 24:14; Dan. 9:9). God’s mercy was demonstrated in his covenantal faithfulness to his people (1 Kings 8:23 24; Mic. 7:18–20). God redeemed the oppressed Israelites from slavery under Pharaoh because of his mercy, which was stirred when he heard their groaning and cry for help.
Jesus Christ lived a life full of mercy. He is, in a sense, the bodily manifestation of God’s mercy. Jesus expressed deep mercy whenever he saw the sick and the lost. The writers of the Gospels describe Jesus’ demonstrations of mercy when he healed the blind, the lame, the deaf, the leprous, the demon-possessed, and the dead (Matt. 9:36; 14:14; 20:34; Mark 1:41; 5:19; 6:34; 8:2; Luke 7:13; John 11:33). Jesus especially had compassion on the crowds, who did not have a spiritual leader, and he compared them to “sheep without a shepherd” (Matt. 9:36).
What is the proper response to God’s mercy and compassion? God expects believers to show the same kind of mercy toward other people. One of the best examples is the parable of the unmerciful servant (Matt. 18:23–35).
Righteousness is an important theme in both Testaments of the Bible. The concept includes faithfulness, justice, uprightness, correctness, loyalty, blamelessness, purity, salvation, and innocence. Because the theme is related to justification, it has important implications for the doctrine of salvation.
Being careful to avoid imposing Western philosophical categories onto OT texts, we may say that the core idea of righteousness is conformity to God’s person and will in moral uprightness, justness, justice, integrity, and faithfulness. Behind the many and varied uses of righteousness language in the OT stands the presupposition that God himself is righteous in the ultimate sense (e.g., Ezra 9:15; Isa. 45:21; Zeph. 3:5). Righteousness is the expression of his holiness in relationship to others (Isa. 5:16), and all other nuances of righteousness in the biblical texts are derived from this.
Related to humans, righteousness is often found as the opposite of wickedness. Righteousness often occurs in evaluative contexts, where it relates to proper conduct with respect to God, the order of the world as he created it, the covenant, or law (e.g., Deut. 6:25). God reigns in righteousness and justice (e.g., Ps. 97:2), and humans should align their conduct with this righteous reign. Righteousness can be expressed as personal integrity with phrases such as “my righteousness” (2 Sam. 22:21, 25; Ps. 7:8) and “their righteousness” (1 Sam. 26:23). Unrighteousness is found in poetic parallel to injustice (e.g., Jer. 22:13); the unjust are parallel with the wicked (Ps. 82:2).
Righteousness language is more rare in the Gospels than one might expect in light of OT and Jewish intertestamental usage. These references fit with the Jewish setting: righteousness is required of God’s people, and unrighteousness is to be avoided. Righteousness is proper conduct with respect to God or Torah (Matt. 21:32) in contrast to wickedness (Matt. 13:49). Righteousness could be conceived as one’s own (e.g., Luke 18:9) and has its reward (Matt. 10:41). While the specific terms related to righteousness are infrequent in the Gospels, the broader concept of conformity to God’s will is widely apparent in calls for repentance, personal moral uprightness, mercy, and concern for the marginalized. The NT Epistles continue these general strands of the concept. Righteousness is related to personal conduct (1 Thess. 2:10; 1 Tim. 6:11; 2 Tim. 2:22; 1 Pet. 2:24) and is contrasted with wickedness (2 Cor. 6:14); it is a matter of doing, not knowing (Rom. 2:13). An example of righteousness in doing is the kindness shown by the prostitute Rahab, who hid the Israelite spies (James 2:25).
The NT does signal some new dimensions related to righteousness. In the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5 7), Jesus extends the requirements of righteousness to conformity to his own teaching and directives, a shocking display of authority. In his mission to call sinners rather than the “righteous” (e.g., Mark 2:17), Jesus implicitly questions the righteousness of the “righteous.” In similar manner, personal righteousness in terms of a righteousness of one’s own is negative in the NT (Rom. 10:3; Phil. 3:6; cf. Luke 18:9).
The NT continues the OT theme of righteousness as it relates to God himself. God is righteous (John 17:25; Rom. 3:5; 9:14; Heb. 6:10; cf. Matt. 6:33). His judgments are righteous (Rom. 2:5), and his commands and laws are righteous (Rom. 7:12; 8:4). God is a righteous judge (2 Tim. 4:8). His saving activity is righteous; he does not compromise his own justice in justifying the ungodly (Rom. 3:24–26). The righteousness of God is contrasted with human unrighteousness and wickedness (Rom. 3:5; James 1:20). Since God reigns over creation in righteousness, human conduct should conform to that standard (e.g., Rom. 14:17). Jesus is also noted as righteous (Acts 3:14; 7:52; 22:14; 1 Pet. 3:18; 1 John 2:1, 29). He fulfilled righteousness in the absolute sense of demonstrating complete conformity to the nature and will of God (e.g., 1 Pet. 3:18). He also fulfilled God’s righteousness in the sense of his saving activity toward humans (e.g., 2 Pet. 1:1).
“Salvation” is the broadest term used to refer to God’s actions to solve the plight brought about by humankind’s sinful rebellion and its consequences. It is one of the central themes of the entire Bible, running from Genesis through Revelation.
In many places in the OT, salvation refers to being rescued from physical rather than spiritual trouble. Fearing the possibility of retribution from his brother Esau, Jacob prays, “Save me, I pray, from the hand of my brother Esau” (Gen. 32:11). The actions of Joseph in Egypt saved many from famine (45:5 7; 47:25; 50:20). Frequently in the psalms, individuals pray for salvation from enemies that threaten one’s safety or life (Pss. 17:14; 18:3; 70:1–3; 71:1–4; 91:1–3).
Related to this usage are places where the nation of Israel and/or its king were saved from enemies. The defining example of this is the exodus, whereby God delivered his people from their enslavement to the Egyptians, culminating in the destruction of Pharaoh and his army (Exod. 14:1–23). From that point forward in the history of Israel, God repeatedly saved Israel from its enemies, whether through a judge (e.g., Judg. 2:16; 3:9), a king (2 Kings 14:27), or even a shepherd boy (1 Sam. 17:1–58).
But these examples of national deliverance had a profound spiritual component as well. God did not save his people from physical danger as an end in itself; it was the necessary means for his plan to save them from their sins. The OT recognizes the need for salvation from sin (Pss. 39:8; 51:14; 120:2) but, as the NT makes evident, does not provide a final solution (Heb. 9:1–10:18). One of the clearest places that physical and spiritual salvation come together is Isa. 40–55, where Judah’s exile from the land and prophesied return are seen as the physical manifestation of the much more fundamental spiritual exile that resulted from sin. To address that far greater reality, God announces the day when the Suffering Servant would once and for all take away the sins of his people (Isa. 52:13–53:12).
As in the OT, the NT has places where salvation refers to being rescued from physical difficulty. Paul, for example, speaks of being saved from various physical dangers, including execution (2 Cor. 1:8–10; Phil. 1:19; 2 Tim. 4:17). In the midst of a fierce storm, Jesus’ disciples cry out, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” (Matt. 8:25). But far more prominent are the places in the Gospels and Acts where physical healings are described with the verb sōzō, used to speak of salvation from sin. The healing of the woman with the hemorrhage (Mark 5:25–34), the blind man along the road (Luke 18:35–43), and even the man possessed by a demon (Luke 8:26–39), just to name a few, are described with the verb sōzō. The same verb, however, is also used to refer to Jesus forgiving someone’s sins (Luke 7:36–50) and to his mission to save the lost from their sins (Luke 19:10). Such overlap is a foretaste of the holistic salvation (physical and spiritual) that will be completed in the new heaven and earth (Rev. 21–22). The NT Epistles give extensive descriptions of how the work of Jesus Christ saves his people from their sins.
In the OT, wisdom is a characteristic of someone who attains a high degree of knowledge, technical skill, and experience in a particular domain. It refers to the ability that certain individuals have to use good judgment in running the affairs of state (Joseph in Gen. 41:33; David in 2 Sam. 14:20; Solomon in 1 Kings 3:9, 12, 28). It can also refer to the navigational skills that sailors use in maneuvering a ship through difficult waters (Ps. 107:27). Furthermore, wisdom includes the particular skills of an artisan (Exod. 31:6; 35:35; 1 Chron. 22:15 16). In all these cases, wisdom involves the expertise that a person acquires to accomplish a particular task. In these instances “wisdom” is an ethically neutral term, or at least that dimension is not emphasized. The wise are those who have mastered a certain skill set in their field of expertise.
The uniqueness of the OT wisdom literature (Job, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, etc.) is that it highlights the moral dimension of wisdom. Here “wisdom” refers to developing expertise in negotiating the complexities of life and managing those complexities in a morally responsible way that honors God and benefits both the community and the individual. Although it is difficult to pin down a concise definition, one can gain a better understanding of wisdom by investigating two important dimensions: wisdom as a worldview, and the traits of a person who is considered to be wise.
Who is wise? First, the wise are those involved in a lifelong process of character development. They manifest the virtues of righteousness, justice, and equity (Prov. 1:3; 2:9). The embodiment of these virtues culminates in the description of the woman of noble character at the conclusion of Proverbs (31:10–31). She exhibits self-control, patience, care, diligence, discipline, humility, generosity, honesty, and fear of the Lord (cf. James 3:13–18). She is the epitome of wisdom in its maturity and the model that all should emulate.
Second, the wise know the value of words and how to use them. They know when to speak, what to say, and how to say it (Job 29:21–22; Prov. 15:23; 25:11; Eccles. 3:7; 12:9–10). Wisdom and the wise place a premium on the power of words.
Third, the wise place great importance on relationships and on interaction with others. The wise person is the one who is open to the give-and-take of relationships (Prov. 27:5–6, 17, 19). Such a person develops the humility necessary to receive correction and criticism from others. Hearing criticism and changing wrong behavior are integral to wisdom (3:1–11). The wise appreciate insightful criticism because it helps them live life more productively (15:12). Wisdom is, ultimately, relational.
Fourth, the wise person develops the art of discernment (Prov. 1:2, 4–6). The sage is equipped with the ability to think critically. The very quality of wisdom itself invites the re-forming and rethinking of ideas. Sages are not interested in pat answers (26:4–5). Proverbs 16:1–9 throws a wrench in the conventional cogs of wisdom, claiming that although humans make their plans, God has the final say. Both Job and Ecclesiastes go head to head with conventional beliefs, probing more deeply into the complexities of life and the relationship between human and divine. No easy answers exist here. In contrast, fools do not use their mental faculties. They view wisdom as a commodity, a matter of learning some techniques, accepting certain beliefs, and memorizing a few proverbs (17:16). The wise, however, know that wisdom involves the art of critical thinking and interacting with others.
Fifth, and most fundamental, the wise person takes a God-centered focus toward life. Wisdom literature affirms, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (Prov. 9:10; cf. Prov. 1:7; Job 28:28; Eccles. 12:13). That this is the beginning step in the process of gaining wisdom means that one who misses this step can proceed no further along the path to wisdom. The fear of the Lord is to wisdom as the letters of the alphabet are to forming words. The wise gain wisdom by being in relationship with the Lord (Prov. 3:5–8). The fear of the Lord is the beginning as well as the culmination of wisdom.
Wisdom is a highly prized quality, superior to might and power (Prov. 25:15; Eccles. 9:13–16), and one must diligently seek it (Prov. 2:1–5). Yet in the end, wisdom is a gift that only God can give (Prov. 2:6–8; 1 Kings 3:9).
Direct Matches
A surface to recline on for the purpose of sleep, convalescence, contemplation, and sexual activity. Construction ranged from a portable straw mat (Mark 6:55; Acts 9:34) to raised frames crafted of wood, metal, or stone inlaid with precious metals and jewels (Deut. 3:11; Amos 6:4) and topped with luxurious coverings (Prov. 7:16, 17; 31:22). The mats of poor people might be rolled up and stowed away during the day to save space when they slept in a common room (Luke 11:7). The rich reclined on permanent structures in rooms designated for sleeping (Exod. 8:3; 2 Kings 6:12), but people of more modest means also had bedrooms (2 Kings 4:10).
The most commonly cited use of a bed is not for sleeping (Ps. 132:3; Luke 11:7) but for convalescing (Gen. 48:2; Exod. 21:18; 2 Sam. 13:5; Ps. 41:3; Matt. 8:14; Acts 28:8) or dying (Gen. 49:33; 2 Kings 1:4, 6, 16). Elijah restores life to a boy after placing him on a bed (1 Kings 17:19; cf. Elisha in 2 Kings 4:21, 34, 35). Murder is attempted (1 Sam. 19:13, 15, 16) or accomplished in bed (2 Sam. 4:7, 11; 2 Chron. 24:25).
The bed is for sexual activity, whether honorable (Song 1:16; Heb. 13:4) or not (Gen. 39:7, 10, 12; 49:4; 2 Sam. 13:11). People mope and mourn on beds (1 Kings 21:4; Ps. 6:6; Song 3:1; Hos. 7:14), loaf (Prov. 26:14), plot evil (Ps. 36:4; Mic. 2:1), meditate and rejoice (Pss. 4:4; 63:6; 149:5), and experience visions (Dan. 2:28; 4:5; 7:1). The bed is a metaphor for the grave (Job 7:13; 17:13; Ezek. 32:25).
A source of running water. Often, the word “fountain” carries the connotation of handmade architecture designed to enhance access to or the aesthetics of a natural spring. The vocabulary of the biblical languages does not rigidly distinguish between artificial fountains and natural springs, so that several Hebrew (’ayin, ma’yan, maqor) and Greek (pēgē, phrear) words can be rendered “fountain,” “spring,” “flow,” and so forth, depending on the context.
In Proverbs, the phrase “fountain [maqor] of life” refers to the mouth of a righteous man (10:11), the law of the wise (13:14; cf. 18:4), the fear of the Lord (14:27; cf. Ps. 36:9), and understanding (Prov. 16:22). Similarly, Jer. 2:13 describes God as a fountain of living water, an idea echoed in Rev. 21:6. In Prov. 5:18 the fountain (along with wells, cisterns, streams, and springs) symbolizes the fecundity of marriage.
The “fountains of the deep” mentioned in Gen. 7:11; 8:2 (NIV: “springs of the deep”); Prov. 8:28 refer to a particular aspect of ancient cosmology: the notion that the terrestrial earth is supported by pillars (see Job 9:6; Ps. 75:3) above a subterranean sea. In the story of the great flood, the “fountains” of this sea, the “great deep,” were a source of the waters of the flood. See also Fountain Gate.
Mountains, both literally and metaphorically, play a highly significant role in biblical history, religion, and theology. People are shaped by the geography of the location in which they live, and this was no less the case with the Israelites. Mountains, as permanent and immovable, form natural barriers and borders (Josh. 15), afford protection from invaders (Judg. 6:2; Ps. 125:2), serve as places of refuge (Gen. 14:10; 19:17; 1 Sam. 14:22), and provide bases from which to launch attacks (Judg. 4:14; 9:36). Often in the Bible, mountain imagery is used to describe God as eternal and a strong refuge (Pss. 36:6; 90:2; 121:1–2; 125:2).
But mountains are also places of mystery. In the religious world of the ancient Near East, gods were thought to either live or make their presence known on mountains—portals, as it were, between heaven and earth. The garden of Eden is regarded by Ezekiel as having been located on “the holy mount of God” (Ezek. 28:13–14). God mysteriously reveals himself in a flame of fire to Moses at Mount Horeb (Exod. 3), and then later from that same mountain God gives the law amid thunder, fire, and smoke; the people are not allowed to approach the mountain lest they die (Exod. 19). Moses has another theophany on the same mountain (Exod. 33:17–34:8), and Elijah has a very Moses-like encounter there with God as well (1 Kings 19).
Because of this association between gods and mountains, it was the norm to build temples for deities on mountaintops. Thus, the temple in Jerusalem is built on Mount Zion, which is also the place where Abraham had been ready to sacrifice Isaac (Gen. 22:2; 2 Chron. 3:1). Thus, this mountain is the “mountain of the Lord” (Gen. 22:14), the mountain of God’s “inheritance” (Exod. 15:17), his “holy mountain” (Ps. 48:1). Even the plans for the tabernacle and temples are given on mountaintops (Exod. 25:40; 26:30; 27:8; 2 Sam. 24:18–25; 1 Chron. 21:18–22:1; 28:11–12; Ezek. 40:1–2; Rev. 21:10). It should not escape notice that Israel’s legal tradition and liturgical tradition are both associated with mountains, Sinai and Zion (Jerusalem).
It is no wonder, then, that mountains play such a significant role in the NT and the life of Christ. On top of a high mountain, the devil tempts Jesus to worship him (Matt. 4:8–10). Jesus proclaims the law of the kingdom from a mountain (5:1). On a mountain, Jesus chooses to reveal to his disciples his true glory in the transfiguration (17:1). After his resurrection, Jesus has his disciples meet him at a mountain, from which he makes his declaration of authority and gives the Great Commission (28:16–20). But Jesus and the NT authors also “relocate” the place where people meet with God from any particular location, mountain or otherwise, to the human spirit and to the church (John 4:21–24; Heb. 12:22–23).
A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.
Historical Background
Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.
Composition
As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.
Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.
Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.
Collection
The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.
In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).
Organization and Structure
The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.
A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:
I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)
II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)
III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)
IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)
V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)
Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.
Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.
Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.
This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.
Literary Considerations
Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.
• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.
• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).
• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).
• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).
• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.
• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).
• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).
Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)
Theological Message
Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.
Connection to the New Testament and Today
Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).
Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.
A shadow may refer to shade generally, darkness, or to a specific shadow cast by something; “shadow” and “shade” also have other uses by extension. Perhaps because shade is a protection from the heat of the sun, shade and shadow are metaphors for protection (Pss. 91:1; 121:5; Isa. 49:2), as in the phrase “shadow of [God’s] wings” (Pss. 17:8; 36:7; 57:1; 63:7). Since shadows change through the day and pass away, shadow becomes a metaphor for brevity, particularly the brevity of life (1 Chron. 29:15; Job 8:9; 14:2; Pss. 102:11; 109:23; 144:4), and for change (James 1:17 [though this text has other interpretations]). As darkness, shadow sometimes refers to a place to hide (Job 34:22) or to gloom or danger (Pss. 44:19; 107:10, 14; Isa. 9:2; Jer. 2:6). The “land of darkness and deep shadow” appears to be a reference to death (Job 10:21 ESV, NASB). And since a shadow’s shape resembles the outline of what casts the shadow, shadow may refer to that similarity as a copy, however imperfect (Col. 2:17; Heb. 8:5; 10:1).
Two miracles involved shadows. God gave Hezekiah a miraculous sign by moving the shadow on the steps backward (2 Kings 20:9–11). As people believed the apostles’ message, they brought the sick to Solomon’s Colonnade, where they were healed when Peter’s shadow fell on them (Acts 5:12–16).
The Hebrew word for “deep darkness,” tsalmawet, was seen as two words by LXX translators and rendered as “shadow of death” (skia thanatou). This wording came into the NT as a quotation or allusion (Matt. 4:16; Luke 1:79). Texts discovered from around the time of the judges in Ugaritic, a language closely related to Hebrew, have shown that tsalmawet is one word, meaning “deep darkness” or “gloom.” Modern translations have tended to change the rendering of this word, but some may leave “shadow of death” in Ps. 23:4 because of the popularity of this traditional wording.
Secondary Matches
Over 350 species of birds have been recorded in the land of modern-day Israel. The OT employs thirty-five different words for birds (both wild and domestic), but the identification of these words with known species has proved to be very difficult. Like other words for animals, terminology for birds often is employed in personal names (e.g., Jonah, Oreb, Zippor, Zipporah). There is significant evidence for fowling practices in ancient Israel, usually by means of nets and snares (Pss. 124:7; 140:5; Prov. 6:5; 7:23; Lam. 3:52; Hos. 7:12; Amos 3:5). Small birds and chickens are occasionally even depicted on Iron Age II (1000–586 BC) seals and vessels from sites such as el-Jib (Gibeon) and Tell en-Nasbeh (Mizpah).
Like other animals in the Bible, birds are depicted as agents of God. Divine agency is especially evident in instances such as the ravens feeding Elijah (1 Kings 17:4–6) and the dove bringing an olive leaf to Noah (Gen. 8:11). The Bible also employs bird-related imagery such as in descriptions of divine judgment (Prov. 30:17; Jer. 12:9). Birds may also serve as ominous signs of impending judgment (Hos. 8:1). God’s “wings” can offer both healing (Mal. 4:2 KJV, RSV) and protection (Ruth 2:12; Pss. 17:8; 36:7; 57:1; 61:4; 63:7; 91:4). The metaphor of the soul or spirit as a bird is referenced in the description of the Holy Spirit descending like a dove (Matt. 3:16; Mark 1:10; Luke 3:22; John 1:32). The observation that birds “do not sow or reap” is employed as an image of worry-free living (Luke 12:24; cf. Job 38:41; Ps. 147:9). Jesus’ reference to “when the rooster crows” (Mark 13:35) is not strictly literal but rather refers to a watch of the night: the quarter of the night after midnight.
The prominence of sacrificial birds (especially doves and pigeons) in ritual literature indicates that they were likely raised for such purposes in ancient Israel. All birds could be eaten except those listed as unclean in Lev. 11:13–19 (twenty species) and Deut. 14:12–18 (twenty-one species). Generally speaking, birds of prey and those that feed on carrion or fish were considered unclean. Birds often served as food for the poor (Matt. 10:29–31; Luke 12:6–7). Poor people could offer birds as a substitute for expensive livestock (Lev. 5:7; 12:8; 14:21–22; cf. Luke 2:24), while the poorest of the poor were permitted to bring grain (Lev. 5:11). Finally, in one purgation ritual a live bird is used to carry away impurities (Lev. 14:52–53; cf. 16:22).
A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.
Historical Background
Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.
Composition
As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.
Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.
Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.
Collection
The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.
In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).
Organization and Structure
The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.
A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:
I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)
II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)
III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)
IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)
V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)
Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.
Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.
Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.
This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.
Literary Considerations
Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.
• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.
• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).
• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).
• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).
• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.
• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).
• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).
Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)
Theological Message
Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.
Connection to the New Testament and Today
Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).
Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.
Recounted in Gen. 6:5–9:19, the flood is the event whereby God destroys all creatures except for Noah, his family, and a gathering of animals. The account is highly literary and God-centered. It opens and closes with Noah’s three sons (6:10; 9:18–19). Noah’s obedience is highlighted (7:5, 9, 16). God is the protagonist, and Noah remains silent.
Terminology. The Hebrew word for “flood” is mabbul, and the Greek word is kataklysmos. Outside of the Gen. 6–9 narrative and references to the flood in Gen. 10:1, 32; 11:10, mabbul occurs only in Ps. 29:10, probably a reference to the primordial water stored above the firmament in jars (cf. Gen. 1:7; 7:11). The LXX translates mabbul with kataklysmos in Sir. 40:10; 44:17–18; 4 Macc. 15:31. Hebrew Sirach and the Aramaic Genesis Apocryphon also use mabbul for the flood (Sir. 44:17; 1QapGen ar 12:9–10). All four uses of kataklysmos in the NT refer to the flood (Matt. 24:38–39; Luke 17:27; 2 Pet. 2:5).
The flood narrative. In Gen. 6:5–22, God observes the grand scale of human wickedness, determines to destroy all life, and selects righteous Noah to build an ark. God’s “seeing” is judicial investigation (6:5, 13) that counters the sons of God who “saw” (6:2), just as his pained heart counters humankind’s wicked heart (6:5–6). God’s second statement, “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race” (6:7), is his judicial sentence (cf. 3:15–19), affecting all life in the domain of human care (1:28; cf. Job 38:41; Ps. 36:6; Hos. 4:3; Joel 1:20).
The earth’s corruption and violence (Gen. 6:12–13) reflect a spectrum of evil that has despoiled a creation that was once “very good” (1:31; cf. 6:17; 7:21; 8:17; 9:11). God’s destruction responds to the moral corruption of the earth. The ark is a rectangular vessel designed for floating rather than sailing (6:14–15). Noah builds a microcosm of the earth to save its life. The boat’s windowlike openings and three decks reflect the cosmology of Gen. 1 (heavens, water, earth [cf. 6:16]). God makes a promise that Noah will survive and receive a covenant from God (6:18), fulfilled in the Noahic covenant following the flood (9:9, 11, 14–17).
Genesis 7:1–24 recounts the boarding of the ark and then the rising waters. Two numbering systems are used by the narrator in the flood narrative: one for dates of Noah’s age (day, month, year) and one for periods between flood stages. Both systems number between 365 and 370 days. The flood is portrayed as a reversal of the second and third days of creation. Watery boundaries that God once separated collapse (cf. 1:6–10). The rising flood is described in three phases: rising and lifting the ark (7:17), increasing greatly and floating the ark on the surface (7:18), and covering all the high mountains (7:19). Total destruction is amplified by reversing the order of creation—people, animals, birds (7:23)—with “all/every” occurring repeatedly in 7:21–23.
Genesis 8:1–22 recounts the disembarking and Noah’s sacrifice. Genesis 8:1 is the structural and theological center, with God fulfilling (= “remember”) his covenant promise for Noah’s safety. The ark rests on one mountain within the range in eastern Turkey (Kurdistan). The earth’s drying occurs as a process (8:3, 5, 9, 11, 13, 14), and echoes of creation reappear (e.g., “wind” [8:1; cf. 1:2]). Although the old curse is not lifted (cf. 5:29), God promises not to add to it (8:21). The flood has not reformed the human heart; it has only stopped the violence. God’s oath of restoration reaffirms the seamless rhythm of seasons that comprise a full year (8:22).
Genesis 9:1–19 recounts the restoration of world order. Since murder was part of the antediluvian violence (6:11, 13), God’s law recalibrates earthly morality (9:5). God’s second postdiluvian speech encodes his plan for the broader preservation of creation (9:8–17). “My rainbow” is God’s confirming sign (9:13). The meteorological phenomenon of the storm is now harnessed as an image of peace. The cosmic warrior “hangs up” his bow in divine disarmament. Humankind now shares the responsibility of justice with God, illustrated in Noah’s first speech of cursing and blessing (9:20–27).
Ancient Near Eastern parallels. Without literary dependence on the biblical story, parallels to the biblical account exist in the Akkadian Atrahasis Epic, Gilgamesh Tablet XI, and the Sumerian King List. The exact relationship between the biblical account and these Near Eastern accounts is a debated subject. Perhaps they are variants of a similar story based on the same historical event.
Recounted in Gen. 6:5–9:19, the flood is the event whereby God destroys all creatures except for Noah, his family, and a gathering of animals. The account is highly literary and God-centered. It opens and closes with Noah’s three sons (6:10; 9:18–19). Noah’s obedience is highlighted (7:5, 9, 16). God is the protagonist, and Noah remains silent.
Terminology. The Hebrew word for “flood” is mabbul, and the Greek word is kataklysmos. Outside of the Gen. 6–9 narrative and references to the flood in Gen. 10:1, 32; 11:10, mabbul occurs only in Ps. 29:10, probably a reference to the primordial water stored above the firmament in jars (cf. Gen. 1:7; 7:11). The LXX translates mabbul with kataklysmos in Sir. 40:10; 44:17–18; 4 Macc. 15:31. Hebrew Sirach and the Aramaic Genesis Apocryphon also use mabbul for the flood (Sir. 44:17; 1QapGen ar 12:9–10). All four uses of kataklysmos in the NT refer to the flood (Matt. 24:38–39; Luke 17:27; 2 Pet. 2:5).
The flood narrative. In Gen. 6:5–22, God observes the grand scale of human wickedness, determines to destroy all life, and selects righteous Noah to build an ark. God’s “seeing” is judicial investigation (6:5, 13) that counters the sons of God who “saw” (6:2), just as his pained heart counters humankind’s wicked heart (6:5–6). God’s second statement, “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race” (6:7), is his judicial sentence (cf. 3:15–19), affecting all life in the domain of human care (1:28; cf. Job 38:41; Ps. 36:6; Hos. 4:3; Joel 1:20).
The earth’s corruption and violence (Gen. 6:12–13) reflect a spectrum of evil that has despoiled a creation that was once “very good” (1:31; cf. 6:17; 7:21; 8:17; 9:11). God’s destruction responds to the moral corruption of the earth. The ark is a rectangular vessel designed for floating rather than sailing (6:14–15). Noah builds a microcosm of the earth to save its life. The boat’s windowlike openings and three decks reflect the cosmology of Gen. 1 (heavens, water, earth [cf. 6:16]). God makes a promise that Noah will survive and receive a covenant from God (6:18), fulfilled in the Noahic covenant following the flood (9:9, 11, 14–17).
Genesis 7:1–24 recounts the boarding of the ark and then the rising waters. Two numbering systems are used by the narrator in the flood narrative: one for dates of Noah’s age (day, month, year) and one for periods between flood stages. Both systems number between 365 and 370 days. The flood is portrayed as a reversal of the second and third days of creation. Watery boundaries that God once separated collapse (cf. 1:6–10). The rising flood is described in three phases: rising and lifting the ark (7:17), increasing greatly and floating the ark on the surface (7:18), and covering all the high mountains (7:19). Total destruction is amplified by reversing the order of creation—people, animals, birds (7:23)—with “all/every” occurring repeatedly in 7:21–23.
Genesis 8:1–22 recounts the disembarking and Noah’s sacrifice. Genesis 8:1 is the structural and theological center, with God fulfilling (= “remember”) his covenant promise for Noah’s safety. The ark rests on one mountain within the range in eastern Turkey (Kurdistan). The earth’s drying occurs as a process (8:3, 5, 9, 11, 13, 14), and echoes of creation reappear (e.g., “wind” [8:1; cf. 1:2]). Although the old curse is not lifted (cf. 5:29), God promises not to add to it (8:21). The flood has not reformed the human heart; it has only stopped the violence. God’s oath of restoration reaffirms the seamless rhythm of seasons that comprise a full year (8:22).
Genesis 9:1–19 recounts the restoration of world order. Since murder was part of the antediluvian violence (6:11, 13), God’s law recalibrates earthly morality (9:5). God’s second postdiluvian speech encodes his plan for the broader preservation of creation (9:8–17). “My rainbow” is God’s confirming sign (9:13). The meteorological phenomenon of the storm is now harnessed as an image of peace. The cosmic warrior “hangs up” his bow in divine disarmament. Humankind now shares the responsibility of justice with God, illustrated in Noah’s first speech of cursing and blessing (9:20–27).
Ancient Near Eastern parallels. Without literary dependence on the biblical story, parallels to the biblical account exist in the Akkadian Atrahasis Epic, Gilgamesh Tablet XI, and the Sumerian King List. The exact relationship between the biblical account and these Near Eastern accounts is a debated subject. Perhaps they are variants of a similar story based on the same historical event.
Before the Enlightenment, the idea that all forms of life were created by God went largely unquestioned. That the God of Israel created by his word all plants and animals (Gen. 1:11–12, 20–25), “breathed . . . the breath of life” into the first human (2:7), and created male and female ancestors of all humankind (1:25–27) was taken as clear expression of the fact that God is the sole source and author of all life (Pss. 36:9; 139:13–16; Jer. 17:13). The whole of life—physical, emotional, and intellectual—originates from God himself as creator of all things. Not only does he create life, but also if God withdraws his breath of life, humans return to dust (Gen. 6:17; 7:23; 1 Sam. 2:6; Job 34:13–15; Ps. 104:29). Since the Enlightenment, questions regarding the origin of life have been taken up by the natural sciences. Philosophical rationalism insists that all life on earth must have originated from inanimate matter and not from a supernatural source.