Unity Through Worship

The community of faith is a place of worship. In worship, unity and healing recur as the church remembers that the community was born of a divine act of deliverance. As the church experiences community, it is renewed by that same gracious act.

For ancient Israel, remembrance of divine grace was preserved by means of a sacred calendar that placed memory of the prevenient, gracious acts of God at the very heart of life. Once a year Israel recalled its deliverance from slavery at Passover and the Feast of Unleavened Bread; once a year thanks was given for the land and its harvest at the Feast of Weeks; once a year God’s protection in the wilderness was commemorated in the Feast of Booths, and once a year the solemn fast of the Day of Atonement was observed.

The rhythm of the order God had established for the people of the covenant was also celebrated weekly, commemorating God’s creation of the world and Israel’s release from bondage in Egypt, and reminding the people that they were a holy possession of their God. This rhythm in turn radiated outward in time to be marked by the observance in the seventh year of God’s gift of the land, and in the fiftieth year of God’s gift of freedom. This calendar lent harmony to life, both by reminding Israel of the history of God’s covenant relationship and by placing the community within the broader context of God’s care for the entire created order.

Although the sacral calendar has fallen into neglect in many religious communities today, there is no question that much is lost when a people no longer symbolizes its communal life and the holy events of its past as parts of the much more encompassing order over which God reigns.

Only when its unity is rooted in its sense of devotion to the one true Sovereign can a community of faith transcend the webs of pettiness, parochialism, and self-interest that so rapidly belittle and destroy human fellowship. For only when a person’s primary relationship, in the ultimate sense of the term, is to God, can the inordinate and unhealthy neediness and insecurity that blights our relationships with others be replaced by a genuine sharing predicated on a sense of wholeness dependent on no human, be itself or another, but on God’s grace.

A community of faith that takes seriously the central theme of its heritage will therefore hold up before the world, by means of paradigms and symbols both old and new, the sole sovereignty of God as the only proven safeguard against the myriad penultimate loyalties that promise abundance but deliver death. To choose life is thus to submit to the only one who, as Creator of all life, is graciously willing and able to sustain the life and freedom of all. To choose life is to let go of all that holds the heart back from embracing that which alone possesses intrinsic worth, to relinquish all forms of bondage, and to find fulfillment in belonging to the order of life over which God reigns.

United in worship and reconciled with its God, the community of faith is restored to the health and wholeness that enables it to be a nucleus of health for the broader human community around it. Its own blessing and health are not gifts intended for it alone but willed by God for all. And it is indeed in worship that the truth of God’s absolute sovereignty brings into focus a vision of God’s reign of peace and justice over all creation. This vision is the faith community’s invitation to give expression to its devotion through a life of service in the world. And its experience of having its needs fulfilled by God in worship empowers it to speak out courageously against all that tears the fabric of the human family and to ally itself with all peacemakers and agents of caring in the world.

The Church as Community

In the exodus event, God created a people and brought them into a covenant relationship. The covenant specified that Israelite worshipers display loyalty and faithfulness both to Yahweh, the King of the covenant and to their fellow Israelites covenanted to that same King. In a corresponding way, God has created a people through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ; these people are bound together with him and with one another in a new covenant community. Jesus’ commandment for this community, or church, is that they love him with their entire being, and their covenant brothers as themselves. It is out of this relationship with God and one’s fellow believers that worship arises. Biblical worship is intended as a corporate expression of the covenant relationship.

The Church as a Body

In the liturgy there is a vertical movement, the out-going of the person to God; but there is also a horizontal movement. Liturgy is celebrated with others and the relationships between the members of the worshiping community are of the highest importance. Private acts of public worship are a contradiction in terms, as a statement in the Roman Catholic Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy suggests: “Liturgical services are not private functions, but are celebrations of the Church, which is the sacrament of unity” (section 26). At the practical level, all liturgical rites are arranged for the participation of the community. Rites enable people to relate to each other (the kiss, the handshake—both symbolic gestures) and also to the community. One can become part of the congregation and enter more deeply into its life. The sociologists tell us that for true community to exist there must be a face-to-face relationship. For the Christian, this means that the members of the community are persons bound together by faith and love. In principle, they are already related to one another. In the worshiping community, this relationship is deepened and enhanced—or will be, if the members try to act as a community.

The Pauline teaching on the church as “body” emphasizes at once the closeness of the relationship between Christ and the people—they are members, limbs, of the body—and of the horizontal relationships between the members of the body (1 Cor. 12:12–31). In other words, perhaps more strongly than before, it is indicated that the priestly people is also a community, the community of Christ with which he has a vital relationship. He is the source of all its life; it is totally dependent on him as the branches of a tree are on its trunk (John 15:1–5). And the relationships of faith and love between its members are in the first instance created by Christ, though they are to be realized and strengthened by Eucharist, which is the sacramental sign of koinonia of communion, the union of minds and hearts in faith and love. If the church can be said to “make” the Eucharist, in a much deeper sense the Eucharist makes the church. But the depth and richness of the relationship is best seen in Ephesians 5, where Christ is said to be the head of the church of which he is also Savior; and this church is his bride (vv. 25–26), which he brought into existence by the “fragrant offering and sacrifice” that he offered to his Father (v. 2).

It is this people, then, the priestly people, the body of Christ, and the community of Christ, who are the “subject” of liturgical celebrations. In other words, it is they who celebrate the liturgy, and the form of the liturgy must be of such sort as to make this possible. The Christian liturgy by its nature cannot be the monologue of a single participant. It is the action of a whole community.

The Covenant in the Psalms of Celebration

Whereas in the psalms of petition the focus is often on the worshiper and his needs, in the psalms of celebration the emphasis is on the dominion and authority of the Great King, the grantor and guarantor of the covenant.

Enthronement Psalms

Of all acclamations in the Psalms, perhaps the most joyful is the cry, “Yahweh has become King!” (Pss. 93:1; 96:10; 97:1; 99:1). The psalms of the Lord’s enthronement set the scene for the renewal of the covenant in the invitation to worship him as the Great King:

Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord;
Let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come before him with thanksgiving
And extol him with music and song.
For the Lord is the great God,
The great King above all gods.
(Ps. 95:1–3)

Although Israel understands its special role as the covenant partners of Yahweh (Ps. 147:19–20), it also understands that Yahweh’s dominion is universal:

Say among the nations, “The Lord reigns … ”
He comes to judge the earth.
He will judge the world in righteousness
And the peoples in his truth.
(Ps. 96:10, 13)

In ancient treaties, the great king is often compared to a shepherd; the shepherd-sheep image is therefore covenant language. The Psalms speak of Yahweh as the “Shepherd of Israel” (Ps. 80:1; cf. Ps. 23:1) and of his people as sheep:

Come, let us bow down in worship,
Let us kneel before the Lord our Maker;
For he is our God
And we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care.
(Ps. 95:6–7; cf. Ps. 100:3)

The declaration “he is our God” is an affirmation of covenant ratification, reminiscent of the covenant formulary as found in the prophetic books: “I will be their God, and they will be my people” (Jer. 31:33).

Related to the psalms of enthronement are those that depict Yahweh’s ascent of Zion to take up his rule. The language of these psalms may hark back to the time when David first had the ark of the covenant brought up to Jerusalem, or it may reveal an ongoing reenactment of that event in a procession of the ark:

Your procession has come into view, O God,
The procession of my God and King into the sanctuary. (Ps. 68:24)
Lift up your heads, O you gates;
Lift them up, you ancient doors,
That the King of glory may come in.
(Ps. 24:9)

God has ascended amid shouts of joy,
The Lord amid the sounding of trumpets.
Sing praises to God, sing praises;
Sing praises to our King, sing praises.…
God reigns over the nations;
God is seated on his holy throne.
(Ps. 47:5–6, 8)

Hymns of Praise

The hymn of praise is the offering of tribute to the Lord, the fulfillment of a covenant obligation and the worshiper’s vow of praise:

I will sacrifice a [sacrifice of confession] to you
And call on the name of the Lord.
I will fulfill my vows to the Lord
In the presence of all his people,
In the courts of the house of the Lord—
In your midst, O Jerusalem,
Praise the Lord.
(Ps. 116:17–19)

The joyful cry “Hallelujah! (“Praise the Lord,” or “Praise Yah,” a shortened form of the name Yahweh) occurs in sixteen psalms. It introduces and concludes several of the hymns of praise:

Praise Yahweh!
Praise, O servants of Yahweh,
Praise the name of Yahweh.
Blessed be the name of Yahweh
From this time forth and forever.
(Ps. 113:1–2)

The concept of “name” or reputation is important in treaty terminology, for the treaty stands upon the name of the great king who grants it. Thus Yahweh declares his name, together with his act of deliverance in the Exodus, at the beginning of the Sinai covenant (Exod. 20:2). In the psalms of praise, worshipers often “bless the name” of Yahweh (Pss. 96:2; 100:4; 103:1; 145:1 all NASB).

Like the enthronement psalm, the hymn of praise may be universal in scope, inviting Gentile worshipers as well as those of Israel to participate in the act of tribute:

Praise the Lord, all you nations;
Extol him, all you peoples.
For great is his [covenant love] toward us,
And the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever.
Praise the Lord.
(Ps. 117:1–2)

Hymns of praise may celebrate different aspects of the Lord’s activity in maintaining the covenant. Some of them emphasize his act of creation, as a demonstration of his power, which holds at bay those who may threaten his covenant partners:

By the word of the Lord were the heavens made,
Their starry host by the breath of his mouth.
He gathers the waters of the sea into jars;
He puts the deep into storehouses.
Let all the earth fear the Lord;
Let all the people of the world revere him.
(Ps. 33:6–8)

In other psalms, Yahweh’s power is made known through his actions in history to save his people:

Shout with joy to God, all the earth!
Sing the glory of his name;
Make his praise glorious! …
He turned the sea into dry land,
They passed through the waters on foot—
Come, let us rejoice in him.
He rules forever by his power,
His eyes watch on the nations—
Let not the rebellious rise up against him.
(Ps. 66:1–2, 6–7)

The psalm of praise may also extol the laws of the covenant. The massive acrostic, Psalm 119, has been called “a great doxology of God’s word” (Claus Westermann, The Psalms: Structure, Content, and Message [Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1980], p. 117). In Psalm 19 the hymn of praise combines the “creation” theme with that of the Law:

The heavens declare the glory of God;
The skies proclaim the work of his hands.…
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple.
(Ps. 19:1, 7)

Many interpreters consider this psalm to be two separate compositions that were joined together at a late date in the formation of the Psalter. In their view, psalms that celebrate the Law or Torah must have originated only after the Law came to be revered, at times, to excess. But if the proclamation of the stipulations or “word” of the covenant between Yahweh and his people was part of the ongoing festal worship of the Israelite sanctuary—as evidence suggests—it is to be expected that some psalms would especially celebrate that “word” or law, even from an early period. The link between Yahweh as Creator and Yahweh as Lawgiver is integral to his role as the Great King.

Almost all psalms of praise and psalms of enthronement begin with an invitation to worship the Lord: to bless his name; to “sing to the Lord a new song” (Pss. 96:1; 98:1; 149:1); to raise a shout (Pss. 47:1; 66:1; 95:1; 100:1); to clap the hands (Ps. 47:1); to fall prostrate or kneel before the Lord (Ps. 95:6); to enter his presence joyfully with thanksgiving and praise (Ps. 100:4); to celebrate with dancing and music (Ps. 149:3). The invitation may be extended to occupy the entire hymn, as in Psalms 148–150. In the Psalter’s concluding doxology, every line save the last begins with the imperative, “Praise!” (Hallƒlu!), and the last ends with “Hallelujah!” These psalms represent a heightened recognition of the homage due the Great King from his partners in the covenant.

Psalms of the Sanctuary

As the site of the annual festivals, where the covenant with the Lord was renewed, Jerusalem was the place “where the tribes go up” (Ps. 122:4). The sanctuary on Mount Zion was especially esteemed in the eyes of the faithful of Israel and Judah. The house of the Lord was the place where Yahweh’s faithfulness in protecting his servants was revealed:

In Judah God is known,
His name is great in Israel.
His tabernacle is in Salem,
His dwelling place in Zion.
There he broke the flashing arrows,
The shield, the sword, and the weapons of war.
(76:1–2)

Thus, psalms of Zion developed; they exalted the city of the sanctuary and spoke of Yahweh’s love for it:

The Lord loves the gates of Zion
More than all the dwellings of Jacob.
Glorious things are said of you,
O city of God.
(Ps. 87:2–3)

In the perspective of the worshiper of Yahweh, it seemed that Zion, “the city of the Great King” (Ps. 48:2), would be established forever as a stronghold and defense for his people (Pss. 46; 48). The psalmic portrayal of Zion became the basis for the New Testament picture of the worshiping church as the New Jerusalem, the refuge of the saints of God (Gal. 4:26; Heb. 12:22–23; Rev. 21:2).

Psalms of Historical Recital

Ancient treaties are prefaced by a narrative of the previous relationship between the overlord and his vassal, usually reciting the benefits the great king has conferred on the servant, such as his elevation to a place of authority, the granting of territory, or protection from invasion. Biblical covenants begin with a similar “historical prologue”:

“I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.” (Exod. 20:2)

“I took you from the pasture and from following the flock to be ruler over my people Israel. I have been with you wherever you have gone, and I have cut off all your enemies from before you.… ” (2 Sam. 7:8–9)

The historical recital forms part of the act of covenant renewal and may be greatly extended, as in Moses’ renewal of the covenant prior to Israel’s entrance into Canaan (Deut. 1–4). The historical psalms represent a development from this element in the covenant structure:

They wandered from nation to nation,
From one kingdom to another.
He allowed no one to oppress them;
For their sake he rebuked kings:
“Do not touch my anointed ones;
For my prophets no harm.” …
He brought out his people with rejoicing,
His chosen ones with shouts of joy;
He gave them the lands of the nations,
And they fell heir to what others had toiled for—
That they might keep his precepts
And observe his laws.
Praise the Lord.
(Ps. 105:13–15, 43–45)

In the faith of the prophetic psalmists of the sanctuary, the covenant was not to be taken for granted; its effectiveness was dependent on the continued obedience of the worshipping community—an obedience that had been all too often compromised:

Today, if you hear his voice,
Do not harden your hearts as you did at Meribah,
As you did that day at Massah in the desert,
Where your fathers tested and tried me,
Though they had seen what I did.
(Ps. 95:7–8)

Thus the recitation of covenant history may take the form of the confession of Israel’s sin and rebellion:

Thus he brought them to the border of his holy land,
To the hill country his right hand had taken.
He drove out nations before them
And he allotted their lands to them as an inheritance;
He settled the tribes of Israel in their homes.
But they put God to the test and rebelled against the Most High;
They did not keep his statutes.
Like their fathers they were disloyal and faithless,
As unreliable as a faulty bow.
They angered him with their high places;
They aroused his jealousy with their idols.
(Ps. 78:54–58; cf. Ps. 106)

The psalms of historical recital are a reminder not only of Yahweh’s choice of his people and his deeds of deliverance but also of the servant’s constant temptation to fall away from a commitment to the Great King.

Festal Liturgies

A proviso of treaties between the great king and the servant king is the requirement to present tribute at stated intervals. In the same way, Yahweh in his covenant required Israel to appear before him in the three great annual festivals (Exod. 23:14–17; Lev. 23; Deut. 16:1–17). The festivals were a heightened time of celebration of the covenant relationship between God and his people. It is not surprising that some of the Psalms mirror the liturgical actions that took place on these days or on other occasions when worshipers assembled at the sanctuary.

In Psalm 118 we encounter what appears to be a liturgy celebrating a victory in battle, evidently conducted during one of the sacrificial festivals (Ps. 118:27). Several voices speak in this psalm. It opens with the invitation to all Israel (the lay worshipers), the priests, and even “those who fear the Lord,” perhaps Gentile members of the community, to respond in turn with the antiphon, “his love endures forever” (Ps. 118:1–4). The king, or the sanctuary singers on his behalf, then describes the dangerous situation the army encountered on the battlefield, how he appealed to Yahweh his overlord for help, and how the valiant hand of the Lord brought deliverance (Ps. 118:5–18). A “ritual of entrance” follows, in which the worshiper asks to be admitted to the sanctuary to give thanks and is told, “This is the gate of the Lord through which the righteous may enter” (Ps. 118:19–21). The next movement in the liturgy features rejoicing by the community at the king’s victory, followed by what may be a responsive section in which several voices are heard: the congregation, the priests, and perhaps the king.

This is the day that the Lord has made;
Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
O Lord, save us;
O Lord, grant us success.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
From the house of the Lord we bless you.
(Ps. 118:24–26)

The worshipers then call for the festival sacrifice to be offered (Ps. 118:27). The ceremony concludes with the pledge ratifying the covenant, “You are my God, and I confess you” (Ps. 118:28), followed by a repeat of the opening doxology (Ps. 118:29).

The psalms that relate to Yahweh’s ascent of Mount Zion to be enthroned as King are also liturgies. In Psalm 68 we see the ark of the covenant setting out on its journey to the sanctuary, to the traditional acclamation, “May God arise, may his enemies be scattered” (Ps. 68:1; cf. Num. 10:35), the procession up to Zion with singers, musicians, and dancers (Ps. 68:24–27), and finally Yahweh enthroned “in the skies,” above the cherubim in the sanctuary (Ps. 68:34–35). The “entrance liturgy” as the ark is brought through the sanctuary gates is preserved in Psalm 24. It is impossible to know how much of this language is literal and how much is symbolic imagery; what in earlier times may have actually been performed may have been recalled in a later era only through song.

Finally, the Psalms contain evidence of the reenactment of the original covenant of Sinai in the sanctuary of Zion, through the “appearance” of the Lord and the declaration of the covenant commandments. Psalm 81 opens with the invitation to assemble with rejoicing on the “day of our Feast” (Ps. 81:1–5); Yahweh then speaks through the prophetic word, reminding the congregation that he rescued them from oppression in Egypt (Ps. 81:5–7). The basic covenant obligation is then set forth, the requirement to give exclusive allegiance to Yahweh:

You shall have no foreign god among you;
You shall not bow down to an alien god.
I am the Lord your God,
Who brought you up out of Egypt.…
(Ps. 81:9–10)

These words introduce the Decalogue, the “word” of the Sinai covenant, which the congregation is then invited to recite: “Open wide your mouth and I will fill it” (Ps. 81:10).

Something similar occurs in Psalm 50. Here Yahweh “appears” in his sanctuary, in imagery reminiscent of that of Mount Sinai:

From Zion perfect in beauty,
God shines forth.
Our God comes and will not be silent;
A fire devours before him,
And around him a tempest rages.
He summons the heavens above,
And the earth, that he may judge his people:
“Gather to me my consecrated ones,
Who made a covenant with me by sacrifice.”
And the heavens proclaim his righteousness,
For God himself is judge.
Selah. (Ps. 50:2–6)

The stage is set for the judgment of the community on the basis of its obedience to the covenant obligations—a judgment proclaimed in prophetic word through the remainder of the psalm. Again, we hear the opening of the covenant act of Sinai: “I am God, your God” (Ps. 50:7; in this portion of the Psalter, “God” is often substituted for “Yahweh”). And again we learn of the liturgical recitation of the covenant commandments:

But to the wicked, God says:
“What right have you to recite my laws
Or take my covenant on your lips?”
(Ps. 50:16)

The indictment that follows (Ps. 50:17–21) mirrors the covenant stipulations as set forth in the laws of Sinai; it has the character of the “covenant lawsuit,” a form of address often found in the prophetic books.

Psalms such as these show that the covenant between the Lord and Israel was not an antiquarian document, cold tablets of stone shut up in a darkened sanctuary. It was a living instrument in the mouth of the spokespersons of the Lord, governing the relationship he had so graciously granted his servants and giving form and order to their worship in his presence.

The Covenant in the Psalms of Petition

The covenant between the Lord and his people, represented especially by the Davidic king, is the governing theological concept in psalmic worship. The covenant is the basis for the worshiper’s appeal to the Lord, and covenant terminology supplies themes and motifs that are prominent especially in the psalms of petition.

The Davidic Kingship

The covenant is an agreement granted by Yahweh, as the Great King, to his servant people, represented in the Psalms especially by the Davidic ruler. The traditional identification of half the Psalms with David, as well as the obvious association of many of the Psalms with the king as military leader and spokesman for the community, underscore the association of the Psalter with the Judean royal house. The Jerusalem sanctuary, with its priesthood and musicians, was established by David and Solomon and continued under the patronage of the royal house of Judah. A theology of the Lord’s special choice and anointing of David and his dynasty, first enunciated by the prophet Nathan (2 Sam. 7:7–17), seems to have been developed in association with the worship on Zion. Thus many of the Psalms appear to be for the use of the king (or in his behalf), as the covenant partner or vassal of the Lord, the “great King.”

He gives his king great victories,
He shows [covenant love] to his anointed,
To David and his descendants forever.
(Ps. 18:50)

But the king will rejoice in God;
All who swear by God’s name will praise him,
While the mouths of liars will be silenced.
(Ps. 63:11)

The Psalms reflect the king’s involvement in warfare. They represent him engaged in a bitter struggle against dangerous enemies, the opponents of Yahweh’s covenant, calling out to the Lord for deliverance and vindication in behalf of the righteous. Several psalms celebrate the Lord’s covenant with David to establish his dynasty in Zion (Pss. 89; 110; 132). There are special psalms associated with the coronation of the Davidic ruler (Pss. 2; 72), and even a nonreligious poem celebrating the royal marriage (Ps. 45).

In all this, however, the king stands before the Lord on behalf of the community. He speaks as the representative worshiper, and what he says to the Lord is generalized to express the need and the devotion of all the faithful. The same principle applies to the Lord’s words to the king in the Psalms; they declare his faithfulness and deliverance to all worshipers. Biblical culture did not think of personality in the individualistic way to which we in the West are accustomed; the Hebraic mind worked with an understanding of “corporate personality,” in which the individual’s view of himself or herself was bound up in his or her solidarity with the leader of the community. (Christ’s atonement for the sin of others and his impartation of new life to those who are “in Christ” can be fully understood only in light of this Hebraic sense of corporate identity.) For these reasons, it is not always appropriate to distinguish between the “individual” and the “community” psalms.

Yahweh’s Covenant Love

The Psalms in several places refer to the covenant granted by the Lord as the foundation for Israel’s hope of deliverance from distress, the basis for the doctrine of the enduring rule of the Davidic dynasty, and the formulation of the worshiping community’s obligation to its God:

He provided redemption for his people;
He ordained his covenant forever—
Holy and awesome is his name.
(Ps. 111:9)

You said, “I have made a covenant with my chosen one,
I have sworn to David my servant,
I will establish your line forever
And make your throne firm through all generations.
(Ps. 89:3–4)

He took note of their distress
When he heard their cry;
For their sake he remembered his covenant
And out of his great [covenant love] he relented.
(Ps. 106:44–45)

But from everlasting to everlasting the Lord’s [covenant] love is with
Those who fear him,
And his righteousness with their children’s children—
With those who keep his covenant
And remember to obey his precepts.
(Ps. 103:17–18)

Although the community of Israel has bound itself to God by covenant (Ps. 50:5) and is pledged to abide by its precepts, in the psalmist’s eyes it is chiefly the Lord who, having initially granted the covenant, upholds it by his grace. Frequently the Psalms speak of his “faithfulness” (’ƒmunah) and his “righteousness” (tzƒdaqah); these qualities are not indiscriminately displayed attributes of God but more specifically express his active intervention in the life of his people to maintain the covenant. Virtually synonymous with these terms, and used more frequently (more than 120 times in 53 psalms), is the word ḥesed, often translated as “loving-kindness,” “love,” “steadfast love,” or “mercy.” Again, Yahweh’s ḥesed is not his impartial benevolence to all creation but specifically his love and mercy to his own people, out of loyalty to the covenant. Only those who have obligated themselves in treaty with the Great King have the right to appeal to him on the basis of his ḥesed; the best translation is, therefore “covenant love.”

In a treaty relationship, the servant-king may appeal to the overlord for protection from enemies on the basis of the great king’s good offices in granting the agreement and his loyalty to his word. In the same manner, it is in virtue of the Lord’s covenant love to his servants that the worshiper may plead with him for help and salvation:

Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellious ways;
According to your [covenant love] remember me,
For you are good, O Lord.
(Ps. 25:7)

Rise up and help us;
Redeem us because of your [covenant love].
(Ps. 44:26)

In your [covenant love], silence my enemies;
Destroy all my foes,
For I am your servant.
(Ps. 143:12)

In many respects “covenant love” is the key word or concept in the book of Psalms; it pervades all that is said to, or about, Yahweh, whether the word ḥesed is present or not. In its praise of the Lord, Israel joyfully celebrates his covenant love:

It is good to [confess to] the Lord
And make music to your name, O Most High,
To proclaim your [covenant love] in the morning
And your faithfulness at night.
(Ps. 92:1–2)

The most oft-repeated thanksgiving in the Psalter (Pss. 106:1; 107:1; 118:1, 29; 136:1–26; cf. 1 Chron. 16:34; 2 Chron. 20:21) praises Yahweh for his loyalty to the covenant. Yet in times of distress, the Psalms express the community’s anguish with shocking candor. The speaker may even take the Lord to task for seemingly failing to honor his obligation to defend his partner:

You sold your people for a pittance,
Gaining nothing from their sale.
You have made us a reproach to our neighbors,
The scorn and derision of those around us.…
All this happened to us, though we had not forgotten you
Or been false to your covenant.
(Ps. 44:12–13, 17)

You have renounced the covenant with your servant
And have defiled his crown in the dust.
(Ps. 89:39)

Such language reveals the extent to which the concept of the treaty could be taken in Israel’s understanding of its relationship with Yahweh.

The Righteous and the Wicked

The Faithful and the Ungodly Contrasted. The theme of the opposition between the faithful worshiper and his ungodly enemies, which surfaces repeatedly in the book of Psalms, is an integral part of the covenant pattern of psalmic worship. This motif predominates in the first part of the Psalter, the “prayers of David,” and extends into the remainder of the collection as well; in its various forms, it is present in fully half of the Psalms. On the whole, the Psalms do not present a picture of a people worshiping in complacent unity, but rather reflect an intense struggle for dominance between rival groups within the nation. Some have taken this as evidence for a late origin for the Psalms, reflecting the period when the Jews dwelt alongside other cultural groups in the context of larger empires. However, this is essentially the same situation as that depicted in the pre-exilic prophetic books, in which Israel’s covenant with Yahweh is viewed as being in constant jeopardy due to spiritual indifference and the encroachments of false religious influences.

The contrast between the faithful and the ungodly is set forth at the very beginning of the Psalter, in the introductory psalm:

Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
But the way of the wicked will perish.
(Ps. 1:5–6)

The Psalms exclude from the sanctuary of the Lord those who have made a covenant, lifting the hand in oath, with divinities other than Yahweh, the true God:

Who shall ascend to the hill of the Lord?
And who shall stand in his holy place?
He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
Who does not lift up his soul to what is false,
And does not swear deceitfully.
(Ps. 24:3–4 RSV)

The Worshiper’s Pledge of Loyalty. Frequently, the speaker affirms his loyalty to Yahweh in terms reminiscent of the vassal’s response ratifying the treaty offered by the great king. Thus, the psalmist often pledges himself to the Lord with expressions such as “You are my God” (Pss. 63:1; 118:28; 140:6; 143:10), “You are my [Yahweh]” (Ps. 16:2), or “You are my King” (Ps. 44:4; cf. Ps. 74:12). This pledge is in contrast to the attitude of his adversaries, those outside the covenant. Typical of this response is Psalm 31:

I hate those who cling to worthless idols;
I trust in the Lord.…
They conspire against me
And plot to take my life.
But I trust in you, O Lord;
I say, “You are my God.”
My times are in your hands;
Deliver me from my enemies and from those who pursue me.
Let your face shine on your servant;
Save me in your [covenant love].
(Ps. 31:6, 13–16)

The Enemies and Their Fate. The psalmist’s enemies appear in many guises. They may be people bringing false accusation (Ps. 109:2–5) or who ridicule the worshiper’s submission to the Lord (Ps. 69:7–12); the prosperous whose wealth renders them arrogant and indifferent to spiritual matters (Ps. 73:3); former friends and fellow worshipers who have turned against the speaker (Ps. 55:12–14); rebels within the community (Ps. 86:14), potential assassins (Pss. 56:6; 59:3), or foreign invaders (Ps. 79:1–4). The common thread is that they are a menace to the worshiper and stand outside the covenant with Yahweh. More than thirty psalms include a description of these enemies:

Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord,
And abhor those who rise up against you?
I have nothing but hatred for them;
I count them my enemies.
(Ps. 139:21–22)

An oracle is within my heart concerning the sinfulness of the wicked:
There is no fear of God before his eyes
. (Ps. 36:1)

His mouth is full of curses and lies and threats;
Trouble and evil are under his tongue.
He lies in wait near the villages;
From ambush he murders the innocent,
Watching in secret for his victims.
(Ps. 10:7–8)

The wicked draw the sword and bend the bow
To bring down the poor and needy,
To slay those whose ways are upright.
(Ps. 37:14)

Against the ungodly the worshiper often feels inadequate; his enemies seem to be the wealthy, the privileged, and the powerful:

Therefore pride is their necklace;
They clothe themselves with violence.
From their callous hearts comes iniquity;
The evil consents of their minds knows no limits.
They scoff, and speak with malice;
In their arrogance they threaten oppression.
Their mouths lay claim to heaven,
And their tongues take possession of the earth.
(Ps. 73:6–9)

Because of Yahweh’s faithfulness, however, the fate of the worshiper’s enemies is sealed. Although the psalmist’s situation may appear desperate from the perspective of ordinary life, when he enters the place of worship he receives a new insight:

When I tried to understand all this,
It was oppressive to me
Till I entered the sanctuary of God;
Then I understood their final destiny.
Surely you place them on slippery ground;
You cast them down to ruin.
(Ps. 73:16–18)

The sorrows of those will increase who run after other gods.
I will not pour out their libations of blood
Or take up their names on my lips.
(Ps. 16:4)

The imprecatory psalms, or psalms of cursing, are an important part of the psalmic portrayal of the defeat of the enemies. Like the curses of the ancient treaty, they invoke the sanctions against those who, as opponents of Yahweh and his servant, have broken the bonds of covenant faithfulness. Psalm 109 is the epitome of these psalms of cursing:

When he is tried, let him be found guilty,
And may his prayers condemn him.
May his days be few;
May another take his place of leadership.
May his children be fatherless
And his wife a widow.…
May a creditor seize all he has;
May strangers plunder the fruit of his labor.…
For he never thought of [acting according to covenant love],
But hounded to death the poor and the needy
And the brokenhearted.…
May this be the Lord’s payment to my accusers,
To those who speak evil of me.
(Ps. 109:7–9, 11, 16, 20)

The Lord’s Deliverance

The Appeal of the Worshiper. The Psalms echo with the worshiper’s appeal to the Lord for deliverance from his enemies and for the vindication of his determination to remain faithful to the covenant. Repeatedly the speaker cries out, “Hear my cry!” or “Save me!” or “Rescue me!”

Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
For false witnesses rise up against me,
Breathing out violence.
(Ps. 27:12)

Vindicate me, O God, and plead my [case] against an ungodly nation;
Rescue me from deceitful and wicked men. (Ps. 43:1)
Rescue me and deliver me in your righteousness;
Turn your ear to me and save me.
(Ps. 71:2)

Deliver me and rescue me from the hand of [aliens],
Whose mouths are full of lies,
Whose right hands are deceitful.
(Ps. 144:11)

The Lord’s Answer; the Worshiper’s Vow. The psalmist’s petition never goes unanswered. Even the most intense and anguished portrayals of the worshiper’s plight also include some recognition that the Lord has heard the speaker’s prayer. The psalmist celebrates the Lord’s answer, his victory, his faithfulness to the covenant. Closely associated with the proclamation of Yahweh’s deliverance is the worshiper’s vow of thanksgiving and praise; he promises to make the Lord’s saving deeds known to the worshiping congregation.

For he has not despised or disdained the suffering of the afflicted one;
He has not hidden his face from him
But has listened to his cry for help.
From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly;
Before those who fear you I will fulfill my vows.
(Ps. 22:24–25)

I will not die but live,
And will proclaim what the Lord has done.
The Lord has chastened me severely,
But he has not given me over to death.
Open for me the gates of righteousness;
I will enter and give thanks to the Lord.
(Ps. 118:17–19)

As a response to Yahweh’s faithfulness to the covenant, the speaker promises to perform the vow of praise (Pss. 65:1; 116:14), to give thanks or render thank offerings (Pss. 30:12; 35:18; 56:12; 116:17), to declare the Lord’s righteousness (Ps. 35:28), to sing praise, sometimes to instrumental accompaniment (Pss. 30:12; 43:4; 61:8; 69:30; 71:22), or simply to praise the Lord (Pss. 22:22; 63:3; 71:23). The worshiper, while still pleading for the Lord’s help, may offer the vow as an “incentive” for the Lord to save him:

O Lord, how long will you look on?
Rescue my life from their ravages,
My precious life from these lions.
I will give you thanks in the great assembly;
Among throngs of people I will praise you.
(Ps. 35:17–18)

The worshiper’s act of praise is his covenant obligation to Yahweh; it is part of the tribute the servant brings to the Great King. The worshiper does not hesitate to remind the Lord that he will not receive his tribute unless he rescues his vassal:

No one remembers you when he is dead.
Who praises you from the grave?
(Ps. 6:5)

Is your [covenant love] declared in the grave,
Your faithfulness in Destruction?
(Ps. 88:11)

Entire psalms may be given over to the celebration of Yahweh’s deeds of redemption, whether in the past or yet to come (Pss. 27; 30; 46; 76; 118; 124). Occasionally, the voice of the sanctuary prophet heralds the Lord’s protection and deliverance to the faithful:

“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.”
(Ps. 91:14–15)

The Lord will keep you from all harm—
He will watch over your life;
The Lord will watch over your coming and going
Both now and forevermore.
(Ps. 121:7–8)

Such utterances are a reminder that it is in the sanctuary that the Lord hears the plea of the afflicted (Ps. 18:6), and it is in the sanctuary that he reveals and enacts his deliverance (Pss. 73:17; 76:2–3). The Psalms, however realistically they may portray the life situation of the worshiper, do so not in the context of that original situation—the street, the marketplace, the sickbed, the battlefield—but in the midst of the assembly gathered in the presence of the Lord. They are a cultic reenactment of problems and difficulties encountered in remaining faithful to the Lord, so that the good news of his covenant love may be applied to them in the setting of the worshiping congregation.

A Biblical Philosophy of the Literary Arts

By far the most important of the fine arts in Israel and the early church was the field of literature. The Bible itself is the result of the sensitivity of literary artists to the Spirit of God. Each of the many forms of biblical literature contributes to our understanding of the philosophy of the worship arts.

Literature: Israel’s Enduring Monument

Archaeological excavations reveal that the material culture of ancient Israel was less advanced than that of the Canaanite city-states it displaced. Coming from a seminomadic state as a nation of tent dwellers, the Israelite tribes had no significant tradition of architectural, artistic, or technological innovation, although the nation had artisans such as Bezalel and Oholiab. Even the great temple of Solomon was actually designed and erected by a foreign contractor and reflects Phoenician models; it stood for less than four centuries. Israel left no monumental works of sculpture, art, or architecture to be placed alongside the cultural remains of other ancient civilizations that have survived to our day. The monument of Israel is a literary one: the Bible. It was in the various forms of the literary arts that Israel, including the Israel of the new covenant, excelled.

The literature of the Scriptures is the testimony to a community’s faith. The names of individual authors may be attached to it, and it may bear the distinctive imprint of a personality such as David, Jeremiah, or the apostle Paul. Nevertheless, as literature, it is never the artistic creation of an individual for the purpose of self-expression or recognition. In ancient cultures, the ability to write was a specialized skill, whereas the art of recitation from memory was widely practiced. Most of the Bible existed first in oral form and depended for its survival on a circle of people who memorized it, recited it, and handed it down to successive generations. Isaiah gives us a glimpse of this practice in his remark, “Bind up the testimony, seal the teaching among my disciples” (Isa. 8:16 NASB). Eventually, some major crises in the circle of tradition, such as the insecurities of the period of the fall and exile of Judah, would provide the impetus for writing the material down.

Even in New Testament times the teachings of Jesus and the stories of his acts seem to have circulated orally until the passing of the apostles and the linguistic transition from Aramaic to Greek made it desirable to produce written Gospels for the instruction of the church. In the Gospels we read of “the scribes and Pharisees” (Matt. 5:20 RSV); the scribes were men who had memorized the Mosaic law and the traditions associated with it and who served as a kind of walking concordance or reference Bible for the Pharisaic teachers. The practice of memorizing large portions of the Scripture and the rabbinic traditions continue in Judaism to this day. These procedures of oral transmission in a circle of dedicated people highlight the point that, from the biblical perspective, literature as a form of art belongs to the covenant community as a whole and not to the individual authors who serve as its spokespersons.

Forms of Biblical Literature

The important forms of literature preserved in Scripture can be listed briefly, in order to convey something of the fullness of this form of artistic activity as practiced in the life of the people of the covenant.

History. Historical literature, including chronicle and genealogy, grows out of covenant worship, in which the worshiper confesses his faith by telling the story of God’s dealings with his people. But the narrative and saga of the Hebrew Bible are remarkable in that, while written from a pronounced theological perspective, it often presents a realistic, nonidealized portrait of human leaders such as Abraham, Moses, Samuel, David, and those who followed. The Gospels and the Acts continue the same tradition, portraying Jesus in an authoritative yet convincing manner and his apostles as down-to-earth and familiarly human types. Biblical history shows that God deals with people as he finds them, in whatever circumstance or state of personal growth. God’s openness to people as they are allows the worshiper to come before him honestly, not boasting in his or her own worth but confident of the grace of God as manifested in his great redeeming acts.

Law. Covenant structure also yields the laws or instructions governing the community’s relation to the Great King. The Mosaic Torah contains laws in both the absolute form (“Thou shalt, thou shalt not … ”) and the conditional form (“If this happens, then …, but if this happens, then … ”); the absolute form especially is well adapted to recitation in worship acts of covenant renewal. Jesus’ principles of the kingdom of God are sometimes similarly cast in metrical form, as in the Beatitudes and other parts of the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7). The nature of Israelite “law” is often misunderstood; as Torah, it is really “instruction” rather than law in the modern sense of legally binding statutes and belongs in the context of worship rather than that of jurisprudence.

Prophetic Indictment. Equally dependent on the covenant foundation is the basic form of prophetic utterance, the judgment speech (or covenant lawsuit), in which the spokespersons of the Lord utter the consequences of the people’s unfaithfulness to their agreement with him. These indictments, as well as other kinds of prophetic address, are almost always given in poetic and musical form, evidencing considerable artistic reflection on the part of the prophets as they opened themselves to the word of the Lord. The same artistic skill is evident in the Revelation, where John uses a dramatic idiom to amplify the effects of the ruptured covenant.

Poetry. Since a great part of the Bible is poetry, the principles of poetic composition apply to many of the biblical literary forms. As to metrical structure, biblical poetry does not scan in some recurring pattern of metric “feet,” nor does it use rhyme. Instead, it generally employs a rhythm of stressed syllables, with a variable number of intervening unstressed syllables. Such a structure is well adapted to chanting or singing, in a style similar to what we know as the “recitative” in seventeenth-century oratorios such as Handel’s Messiah; most of the poetic material in Scripture was probably originally sung.

The most distinctive feature of biblical poetry, however, is the principle of parallelism of ideas. That is, the second line in a couplet repeats the same idea, using different words (synonymous parallelism); or it may present the contrasting or opposite idea (antithetic parallelism); or it may take the idea of the first line and develop some aspect of its thought (synthetic parallelism). Parallelism in one form or another appears throughout the Bible in poetic or semi-poetic sections such as the Genesis account of Creation, the oracles of the prophets, the Psalms, the Proverbs, and the Sermon on the Mount.

Both the stressed metrical structure and the parallelism of ideas of biblical poetry can be translated into other languages without destroying their character; they are what makes the Bible sound like the Bible in any language. Philosophically speaking, the proper use and appreciation of literature constructed in this way require close attention to the words being used and the images and associations they bear, not only from an intellectual standpoint but also from that of a word artist. The cadence of biblical poetry and hymnody, or even of metrically grouped teachings and commandments, adds to worship a sense of awe and solemnity, lifting it above the plane of the merely prosaic.

Proverb and Wisdom. The biblical proverb, or wise saying, is part of an international tradition of wisdom Israel shared with other cultures of the ancient Near East. Biblical wisdom, however, takes on a distinctive coloration because of the character and sovereignty of Yahweh. The temptation to exalt human wisdom is always tempered by the realization that “there is no wisdom, no insight, no plan that can succeed against the Lord” (Prov. 21:30). Biblical wisdom is therefore practical; it is not the exploration of the esoteric but the consideration of how to live in “the fear of the Lord” (Prov. 9:10). Even the books of Ecclesiastes and Job, which probe the deeper issues of human suffering, eventually come up against the sovereignty of God as the only “answer” to life’s ultimate quest. This literature, too, is thus brought within the orbit of worship, which celebrates the sovereignty of the God of the covenant.

Dialogue. The biblical concept of “truth” is not the modern idea of absolute, scientifically verifiable fact; in Hebraic culture “truth” is created by speaking it, and the most powerful speaker creates the prevailing truth, hence the importance of dialogue as a way of approaching the truth. The best example of this principle is the dialogue of Job, in which Job, his three friends, and Elihu approach the problem of justifying God’s seemingly unjust ways from a variety of angles; if they cannot solve the problem, they can at least talk it to death. However, as the book brings out at the end, the supreme biblical dialogue is always with God, who listens but whose word establishes the final truth. Men and women of the Bible are not afraid to argue with God, to plead with him to change his mind, especially about the execution of his judgments, as we note from the examples of Abraham (Gen. 18:22–33), Moses (Exod. 32:7–14), Amos (Amos 7:1–6), and even Jesus in the garden (Matt. 26:36–44). God expects such a dialogue from his partners in the covenant, and this principle undergirds the teaching of Jesus and the apostles about the importance of prayer.

Parable. Although the parable was an ancient literary form, Jesus brought it to its highest level of artistic development in his parables of the kingdom of God. In these stories, Christ used familiar characters and situations from common life—a farmer sowing seed, a rebellious son, a corrupt judge, a woman who loses a coin, a servant forgiven a great debt, a merchant who discovers a priceless pearl—to illustrate the value of God’s kingdom and the consequences for those who refuse it. A parable is not an allegory, in which every detail stands for some hidden truth; the meaning of Jesus’ parables was quite clear and was offensive to the religious establishment of the time (Luke 20:19). To make its point, the parable depends on the human capacity to imagine and to make a transference of imagery from an ordinary sphere of activity to another, more significant sphere of concern. This must take place in the words and motions of worship, which is therefore highly parabolic.

Drama. In drama, there is a movement from problem to resolution presented in dialogue and action involving complementary and contrasting characters. Biblical history as a whole is a great drama; the problem is the rebellion of humankind, and the resolution is the appearance of the New Jerusalem in which the Lord dwells in the midst of his faithful people. The drama has its ebb and flow, with a hint of the ultimate resolution appearing already in the Lord’s covenant with Abraham. Scripture embraces a more specifically dramatic idiom in several places, particularly at the very culmination in the Revelation to John.

A feature of biblical drama wherever it appears is dynamic imagery in the form of word pictures that convey the sense of movement and energy in the situation. The description of Solomon’s bride (Song of Sol. 4), the four living creatures supporting God’s throne, the sun darkened and the moon turned blood red, fire or stars falling from heaven, the rending of the temple veil, the beasts from the sea and the land, the Word of God with the sword, a city coming down from heaven—these are images intended to propel and intensify the drama. As literary symbols, they are powerful and gripping. Reduced to visual form, as though literal, they lose their compelling power and become merely grotesque or even trite. Biblical drama builds with word pictures; the cross of Christ itself is such a word picture, an instrument of execution transferred through preaching (not visual representation) into a symbol of victory and the renewal of the covenant. Biblical worship is the enactment of the imaged resolution to the great drama of Scripture. The loaf and the cup of the Eucharist are powerful not as visual symbols, but as dramatic symbols, an acted-out word picture of the presence of the living Christ with his people. Perhaps more than any other literary form, drama brings the worshiper into the realm of the numinous and that communion with the holy that fulfills the chief end and aim of humankind: to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.