About the Author

Rabbi Benjamin J. Segal
Rabbi Benjamin J. Segal is an author and lecturer, living in Jerusalem, past president both of Melitz, the Centers for Jewish and Zionist Education, and the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies. His books include The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love and Returning: The Land of Israel as Focus in Jewish History, and he has published articles in the fields of Bible, Zionism, education, et al. He has taught in a wide range of venues, from informal education to university courses, and frequently lectures in America, Canada and England. He and his wife Judy made aliyah in 1973, and have five children and twelve grandchildren.
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August 31, 2010

Psalm 28  - May the Blessed One Bless

TEXT (for Hebrew, see end)

1. Of David.

To You, O LORD, I call; my rock, act not as if deaf toward me, for if You act as if dumb toward me, I shall be like those gone down into the Pit.
2. Hear the sound of my supplication when I cry out to You, when I raise up my hands toward Your holy shrine.
3. Do not drag me away with wicked ones and evildoers, who speak peace to their fellows with malice in their heart.
4. Pay them according to their deeds, their malicious acts; according to their handiwork pay them, give them what they deserve.
5. For they do not consider the LORD’s deeds, his handiwork. May He tear them down and not rebuild them!
6. Blessed is the LORD, for He hears the sound of to my supplication.
7. Thc LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him. I was helped, and my heart rejoiced, so I will give thanks to Him with my song.
8. The LORD is their1 strength; a stronghold for the deliverance of His anointed is He.
9 Deliver Your people, bless Your heritage; shepherd them and raise them up forever.

Note
1. Possibly read “His people’s” as per Septuagint, some commentators, and manuscripts.

COMMENTARY

In conflict and with a degree of desperation, someone prays. Afterward, feeling that his prayer has been accepted, he not only expresses his gratitude, but moves on to pray for others. If we may ascribe a didactic purpose to the poet of Psalm 28, it is that progression that the psalmist would have us consider.

Prayers – Two

The three principal sections of Psalm 28 are clear: (a) the speaker’s prayer of request for himself vis-à-vis evildoers (verses 1–5); (b) thanksgiving for acceptance of the prayer (verses 6–7); and (c) a prayer for others (verses 8–9). However, it is rather hard to understand the transition from one section to the other. (I do not dwell extensively on the contention of combined different texts, as the uniform style and repetitions belie any such thought.)

As suggested by several commentators, the third section is most easily understood as the content of the speaker’s “song” mentioned at the end of verse 7. That, essentially, creates two halves, verses 1–5 and 6–9. One then notes that verses 2 and 6, near the beginnings of these two halves, both include the extended phrase “hear the sound of my supplications.” The poem is thus bound together. The reader can observe a smooth progression, the speaker’s prayer leading to his feeling of acceptance and gratitude, and finally his transition to group prayer. The reader’s reaction to that (which could range from understanding, to great pleasure at the progress, to dismay at the initial emphasis on oneself, etc.) is beyond the range of the psalm, but might be where the psalmist wished to lead his readers. (We note that as in Psalm 20, the psalmist does not feel compelled to detail the bridge between the request and thanksgiving, i.e., the details of God’s positive response.)

Actors – Four

The reader confronts four essential roles in the poem: the speaker (who is dominant), the LORD, the evildoers, and the people Israel.
Of the speaker we know little, though the two articulations of his personal prayer, the negative of verse 1 and the positive of verse 2, reflect marked desperation. Presumably he is in direct conflict with the evildoers, who are described in much more detail (3–5), even if the nature of the conflict is not specified. Their actions are painted in broad strokes, apart from their denial of God Himself. Thus the emphasis falls on the fact of the conflict, rather than on its details, which allows for the focus on the strikingly clear call for total punishment for those individuals. As in many psalms, we sense the tone of “we” (here, “I”) versus “them,” the latter being evil, ascendant, numerous, and strong. The description is brutal. They are the unredeemed and unredeemable. (Again, one senses that the psalms are often the literature of the oppressed minority, at least in their own eyes.)

Neither God nor the People is described in detail. As in Psalm 26, there is an implied possibility that God will mistakenly associate the speaker with the evildoers. The act of prayer is a necessary articulation, and without the reminder to God, there may be confusion. (Concerning the fourth party, the People, see below, on rereading the third section.)

Repetitions – Many

The repetitions in Psalm 28 carry the poem along, reinforcing the direct messages. I list the repetitions one by one, noting comparisons made and functions fulfilled.

“Raise up” (verses 2, 9): The speaker “raises” his hands to God, Who in turn is asked to “raise” His People.

A sound echo (three roots, four words): Evildoers profess goodwill toward their “fellows” (re’ehem), but speak “malice” (ra’) in their hearts (verse 3). God is asked to repay them according to their “malicious acts” (ro’a) (verse 4), and thus He can “shepherd them” (r’em), His people (verse 9).

“Doing, deeds” (root, p’l): “Evildoers” should be punished according to their “deeds,” and for not considering God’s “deeds” (verses 3, 4, 5).

“Hands”: The speaker lifts his “hands” (verse 2), and God should punish the wicked for their “handiwork” (verse 4) in not recognizing God’s handiwork (verse 5) ("work" also repeated).

“Hears the sound of my supplications” (verses 2, 6): Once offered and once heard, the phrase binds the two halves.

“Heart”: Their heart was filled with malice; the speaker’s is filled with trust and is exulted (verses 3, 7).

Verse 5 (sound echo): They do not “consider” (yavinu), so God should never rebuild them (yivnem).

“Bless”: “Blessed” is the Lord (for helping the speaker) (verse 6), and thus He should “bless” His people (verse 9).

Some repetitions serve as emphases, as follows:

Verse 1 (an echo): “Act… as if deaf toward me” (techerash mimeni) is followed by “act as if dumb toward me” (techeshe mimeni). (The translation reflects the Hebrew through split use of the common phrase, "deaf and dumb."

Verses 3, 4: “Malice” is echoed by “malicious.”

Verse 4: “Pay them according to” appears twice.

Verse 7, 8: “Strength” or "strong" appears three times

(Possible additional echo: The Septuagint, some classical commentators, and some manuscripts read strength “to His People” (l’amo) for “their” (lamo) strength, verse 11. If that is the correct rendition, “People” is also echoed, verses 11 and 12.)

The Third Section, Reread

Whereas the last two verses fit smoothly when understood as a quotation of the speaker’s song, we should still be sensitive to the psalm’s movement from the individual to the group. This is a subcategory of a technique we have already encountered—the radical change at the end of the poem. If these last two verses are seen as a unit and set against the rest of the psalm, we then have a reversed structure in terms of address “to” or “about” God; the first seven verses begin with direct address and move to third person; the last two verses begin with the third person and proceed to direct address. This, too, encloses the psalm, somewhat isolates the third unit, and further highlights the movement from the individual to the group. The reader is left to ponder not only the mindset of the speaker, but also oneself concerning two issues: the degree to which one extrapolates from personal experience to community and the strength one can or does gain from such community when facing personal difficulties.


The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.

HEBREW TEXT

א לְדָוִד אֵלֶיךָ יְהוָה אֶקְרָא צוּרִי אַל-תֶּחֱרַשׁ מִמֶּנִּי פֶּן-תֶּחֱשֶׁה מִמֶּנִּי וְנִמְשַׁלְתִּי עִם-יוֹרְדֵי בוֹר

ב שְׁמַע קוֹל תַּחֲנוּנַי בְּשַׁוְּעִי אֵלֶיךָ בְּנָשְׂאִי יָדַי אֶל-דְּבִיר קָדְשֶׁךָ

ג אַל-תִּמְשְׁכֵנִי עִם-רְשָׁעִים וְעִם-פֹּעֲלֵי-אָוֶן דֹּבְרֵי שָׁלוֹם עִם-רֵעֵיהֶם וְרָעָה בִּלְבָבָם

ד תֶּן-לָהֶם כְּפָעֳלָם וּכְרֹעַ מַעַלְלֵיהֶם כְּמַעֲשֵׂה יְדֵיהֶם תֵּן לָהֶם הָשֵׁב גְּמוּלָם לָהֶם

ה כִּי לֹא יָבִינוּ אֶל-פְּעֻלֹּת יְהוָה וְאֶל-מַעֲשֵׂה יָדָיו יֶהֶרְסֵם וְלֹא יִבְנֵם

ו בָּרוּךְ יְהוָה כִּי-שָׁמַע קוֹל תַּחֲנוּנָי

ז יְהוָה עֻזִּי וּמָגִנִּי בּוֹ בָטַח לִבִּי וְנֶעֱזָרְתִּי וַיַּעֲלֹז לִבִּי וּמִשִּׁירִי אֲהוֹדֶנּוּ

ח יְהוָה עֹז-לָמוֹ וּמָעוֹז יְשׁוּעוֹת מְשִׁיחוֹ הוּא

ט הוֹשִׁיעָה אֶת-עַמֶּךָ וּבָרֵךְ אֶת-נַחֲלָתֶךָ וּרְעֵם וְנַשְּׂאֵם עַד-הָעוֹלָם

August 22, 2010

Psalm 27 – The Lord Shall be One




This week’s essay is a revision of an article I previously published on Psalm 27 and its use in liturgy.

“One Thing Do I Seek”

Psalm 27 seems anything but a single, unified psalm. So radically different are its two halves that many modern scholars state categorically that it is a composite. Even traditionalists admit that among all the psalms that might be two independent units, this is the most probable candidate.

The first set of verses projects self-assurance. Despite an approaching enemy, the narrator speaks with a tranquility and confidence reminiscent of Psalm 23. He is above all danger, on the heights, looking down at his enemies, thanking the Lord for his security. There is no doubt, no worry.

However, the second set of verses is very different. The speaker begs God to have pity, not to abandon him. On all sides enemies seek to destroy him, and he seems bereft of any human support, even that of parents. He is desperate―so much so that he ponders on the awful fate that might await him had he not at least the spark of faith to carry him through.

Here I briefly interpret the two sections of the psalm and then proceed to the question of the psalm’s unity, noting some of those indications thereof, citing prior attempts to describe it, and finally offering an alternative explanation.

TEXT (HEBEW TEXT AT END)

1. To David.

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom should I be afraid?
2. When evildoers approach me to devour my flesh, my own foes and enemies, it is they who stumble and fall.
3. Though an army encamp against me, my heart would have no fear; though war arise against me, still would I be confident.
4. One thing I ask of the Lord; that is what I seek: to dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the LORD, to frequent His temple.
5. He will hide me in His pavilion on an evil day, conceal me in the concealment of His tent, raise me high upon a rock.
6. Now is my head raised above my enemies round about me; I sacrifice in His tent with shouts of joy; I sing and chant hymns to the LORD.

7. Hear, O LORD, my voice; I call: have mercy on me, and answer me.
8. On Your behalf my heart says: “Seek my face!” Your face, O LORD, I seek.
9. Do not conceal Your face from me; do not turn Your servant away in anger; You are my help. Do not abandon me, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation.
10. Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will take me in.
11. Show me, O LORD, Your way, and lead me on a level path because of my watchful adversaries.
12. Do not subject me to the will of my foes, for false witnesses have arisen against me, breathing out violence.
13. Were I not to believe that I would see the LORD’s goodness in the land of the living….
14. Hope in the LORD; be strong and of good courage! O hope in the LORD!

COMMENTARY

A Psalm of Assurance (with One Central Word): Verses 1–6

The first poem is carefully structured. The opening and closing verses reflect calm, but there is an interwoven tale of concern. The two elements coexist: the enemy’s approach and the framework of assurance. This effect is accomplished in two ways.

First, there is a careful choice of verbs. As reassurance, the enemies “stumble and fall.” However, the text also hints at the author’s “fear” and “dread,” even if by denying them. The enemy’s movements are felt almost physically: he “approaches,” then “sets up camp,” and then “arises.” One can virtually see the steady advance!

Second, this approach of increasing of danger is echoed in a most unusual sentence structure. Biblical poetry is typified by parallelism―restatements of an idea through similar terminology (with varying degrees and kinds of repetition). As Bazak points out, in the opening three verses the parallelism is carried out in a growth pattern of words: in the first verse, five words are parallel to five; in the second, six words to six; and in the third, seven to seven. The last implies completion, seven often being a perfect biblical number. The verbs and the number of words, then, together build to a maximum threat. This loud climax is then greeted head-on―by total calm and indifference!

The first word of the next verse (4) is “One,” whereby the text responds definitively to the previous development. Singularity confronts and halts the expansion. “One thing do I ask of the Lord,” and that one thing has nothing to do with being rescued or achieving victory. Rather, it has to do with being “with God”―in His house, in His presence. The enemy is quite simply not relevant―he totally disappears.

This first poem ends with singing praise to the Lord.

A Psalm of Desperation (with an Unfinished Sentence): Verses 7–14

How different is the second poem! Here, each unfortunate circumstance is followed by yet a greater desperation, a painful assault on the heart.

The speaker gains the reader’s sympathy in his first call. He implores God for mercy, thus indicating that this is not a claim on God, but rather the request of a failed man.

Distance dominates. His heart encourages him to keep seeking God, which indeed he does, though the echoed “seek” accentuates his repeated failure. Indeed, few verses are as sad as verse 9 with its quadruple negative request to the Lord: “Do not conceal Your face… do not turn me away… do not abandon me… do not forsake me.” One has difficulty imagining the depths of his despair.

Whatever the exact circumstance of verse 10, “though my father and mother forsake me” (orphan status? abandonment? weakness of parents?), it implies a helplessness, with God as a last resort. Even the very symbols of protection, his parents, are not there “for” him. His request to discover God’s path is followed by fully four synonyms for enemies, all bent on his destruction.

An incomplete sentence (verse 13) follows, chilling in the implication of its trail into silence. “Were I not to believe” ultimately in God’s goodness, says the psalmist, “I would….” Bereft of human (including parental) support, surrounded by enemies, unable to find God, he knows he has only one thread to hang onto, and were it not for that, “then….” The reader is left to imagine the worst, an end the poet cannot even articulate.

The final sentence provides no answer, but only the penitent’s lingering admonition to himself. The central phrase, “Be strong and of good courage,” is identical to that once addressed to Joshua, facing a life of war to conquer an entire country! Indeed, the last verse frames that mandated determination with the repeated “Hope in the Lord!” The repetition is purposeful. The doubled imploration is as much a reflection of despair as it is of assurance.

This last verse is also a prodigious literary achievement. One hears at the same time the speaker addressing himself, the poet addressing the fictional speaker of his poem, and both (or either) addressing a shaken reader.

One Psalm

Are these two poems then two psalms? Evidently, the answer is no. The evidence of differing content stands in opposition to the structural indications of unity. Whereas each half indeed has its own inclusio (a single term opening and closing the text) that term is the same in both halves: the Tetragrammaton, God’s name (verses 1, 6, 7, and 14: “the LORD”), which thus becomes the inclusio for the psalm as a whole. Even if one were to posit the notion that this identical inclusio explains why two distinct psalms were placed one after the other (and possibly how they were combined), the vocabulary belies any contention of separation. Roots and words echo from one half to the other: “my salvation,” “my heart,” “my foes” “arise,” “seek,” “conceal,” and “life (living).” By structure, the psalmist demands that the reader find the connection in content between the two halves.

In this regard, we again recall the prominence of the word “one.” Did the poet also deliberately emphasize this term to indicate his demand for a unified interpretation?

Theories of Unity

Language and structure, then, indicate unity, as does the prominence afforded the word “one.” Moreover, some commentators have noted the appearance of general themes (God’s protection and the presence of enemies, but these alone are insufficient as proofs, for they are far too common as themes of psalms) and the emphasis in both halves on the nearness of God (if in obverse circumstances).

Classical commentators, of course, never questioned the unity of a received biblical text. The more recent commentators who sensed both the unity of the psalm and the radical difference between it two parts resolve the contradiction in a number of ways. Solutions are most often found in an applied set of circumstances, an assumed context explaining the difference. One such envisions the context as a king’s coronation, and finds the combination of different tempers to be quite understandable given the wide variety of experiences associated with the ascent of a new monarch. Another envisions a man innocently accused, first confident, later praying in the Temple, and finally hearing (last verse) God’s answer. Yet another scholar sees verses 1–6 as the experience of the past, cited to grant the speaker strength in face of severe present difficulties.

The unity of the psalm is attributed then―in one way or another―to differing circumstances: different experiences, different times, or different audiences. However, all of these “solutions” are based on a prior assumption, namely that in order to be a unit, the psalm must present either one “picture” or aspects of some single ongoing situation, even if it is an extended one. To the extent that there are contradictions, these interpretations seek to explain them away.

An Alternative Understanding of Unity

I propose an alternate view of unity. Psalm 27 offers an unanswered challenge, not a solution: a question to be dealt with, not a response. It does so by describing two contradictory situations that share certain terminology, a framework of living with the LORD, and a call for “one” understanding. It describes two well-known extremes in life: total assurance or belief and a deep, almost incurable, despondency. Out of these, the reader is to create one life of faith.

There are many psalms, of course, that integrate personal difficulty into a framework of belief and prayer. One might compare, by way of arbitrary examples, the first and last verses of Psalms 13, 22, and 56.

The uniqueness of Psalm 27, however, is in its application of a specific poetic method, used elsewhere in psalms, to the complex life of both suffering and assurance. This approach consists of bringing together two distinct sections that seem to contradict one another, and the listener/reader has to combine the two. (See the differing sections of Psalms 19, 126, or 145, by way of example.)

The proper biblical context of the present poem, then, is not the assumed pietistic reading of Psalms. It is, rather, the grand tradition of open-eyed confrontation with the greatest challenge to ethical monotheism―the question of evil and suffering in the world. On a personal level, this translates into the feeling of abandonment so well articulated in the second half of the psalm.

Were it not for that unstated pietistic assumption, Psalm 27 could readily be seen as it is: a bold challenge, a call for a solution. It demands unity, one-ness, rather than reflecting it. In the face of personal difficulties and life experiences that would shake one’s confidence in God’s guiding hand and His justice, the psalm asserts that God is indeed One. It does so radically, by setting up two parallel sections of totally different tones. More than in any other psalm, the two sets of life experiences are set one against the other. In doing so while not providing any explanation connecting the two clashing aspects of reality, the psalm forces the reader to provide the missing understanding, explanation, or acceptance.

“One” cries out a two-part, self-contradictory psalm, as self-contradictory as life. The subject is the LORD Himself, named in the inclusio, both of the psalm as a whole and of the two parts. What believer has not experienced the almost revelatory moment of total union with one’s God, and who has not experienced the depths of despair? Both are part of human existence. The poet has not chosen to present two moments in one life, but rather life’s duality in its extreme. The reader is charged to make them a unity.

* * * * * * * *

Special Addendum - Psalm 27 for the High Holiday Season

I add this addendum in light of the publication of this study at the High Holiday season, 2010.

Psalm 27 is recited in many Jewish liturgical traditions for a month before, and three weeks after, the New Year. One would expect association with repentance, celebration, creation or some other prominent theme of the season. However, the text does not seem to have any such direct reference. True, this recitation is a relatively new Jewish practice, first mentioned in the mid to late eighteenth century. Nevertheless, the connection is expected.

Why, then, is Psalm 27 included in its season? One must here differentiate between a search for an historical explanation and a search for valid justification. (“Is the psalm appropriate for its season?”) Concerning the historical origin, several theories have been offered. I list them at the end of these comments. Any may be correct. It is probably impossible to reconstruct that moment where the first congregation took this decision, and on what basis.

However, one can still ask concerning the contemporary suitability of the reading. Given the analysis of the psalm presented above, I suggest that there could hardly be a more appropriate subject. The penitent on the Days of Awe―the New Year and the Day of Atonement―sees him/herself standing before God, requesting forgiveness and seeking a year of blessing. If the Jewish tradition demands an open-eyed faith, one which coexists with doubt, one which acknowledges differing personal anecdotal evidence―how appropriate the forced confrontation with faith in the month preceding, and in the days surrounding, these holidays! The one who is to stand before “the Judge, writing in the Book of Life” is to have anything but a naive, simplistic, literalistic view of that judgment and writing. This is the message of Psalm 27. This is what it forces on the reader.

Ultimately, then, the final message (“Hope in the Lord”) may have yet another layer of meaning. For those who read and reread the psalm seriously, it is reassurance that the process of search for this unity is itself worthwhile, and that for this eternal quest, too, there is hope. One must be strong, and let his or her heart take courage.

I now cite a number of theories as to why this psalm was first chosen for this season. Any may reflect an historical element of truth, for the initial choice might well have been based on no more than a word play.

1. The word “were (I) not”(lulei) in verse 13 appears with dots above three of its letters, probably indicating an early scribe’s doubts about the text at that point. That word spelled in reverse is Elul, the Hebrew name of the month before the holidays, during which the psalm is said.

2. Midrash Tehilim (c. 1000 CE) 27:4 finds a veiled reference in the opening verses to the holidays of this period - “light” to the New Year (the light of justice) and “deliverer” to the Day of Atonement (verse 1). Later texts also apply “pavilion” (verse 5) to the Sukkot (“Tabernacles” or “Pavilions”) festival.

3. With "shouts of joy” (verse 6) in Hebrew is t'ruah, which also means “blast of the shofar (ram's horn),” a reference particularly appropriate to the New Year, when the shofar is blown.

4. God’s name appears thirteen times in the psalm, which possibly recalled the thirteen attributes of God’s faithfulness. These appear prominently in the High Holiday liturgy.

5. Midrash Tehilim has been understood to apply “adversaries” (verse 11) metaphorically to the temptations to sin.

6. The second half is indeed a moving prayer, even if not of confession. As such it is appropriate to a season of prayer for salvation.


The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.

HEBREW TEXT

א לְדָוִד יְהוָה אוֹרִי וְיִשְׁעִי מִמִּי אִירָא יְהוָה מָעוֹז-חַיַּי מִמִּי אֶפְחָד

ב בִּקְרֹב עָלַי מְרֵעִים לֶאֱכֹל אֶת-בְּשָׂרִי צָרַי וְאֹיְבַי לִי הֵמָּה כָשְׁלוּ וְנָפָלו

ג אִם-תַּחֲנֶה עָלַי מַחֲנֶה לֹא-יִירָא לִבִּי אִם-תָּקוּם עָלַי מִלְחָמָה בְּזֹאת אֲנִי בוֹטֵחַ

ד אַחַת שָׁאַלְתִּי מֵאֵת-יְהוָה אוֹתָהּ אֲבַקֵּשׁ שִׁבְתִּי בְּבֵית-יְהוָה כָּל-יְמֵי חַיַּי לַחֲזוֹת בְּנֹעַם-יְהוָה וּלְבַקֵּר בְּהֵיכָלו.

ה כִּי יִצְפְּנֵנִי בְּסֻכֹּה בְּיוֹם רָעָה יַסְתִּרֵנִי בְּסֵתֶר אָהֳלוֹ בְּצוּר יְרוֹמְמֵנִי

ו וְעַתָּה יָרוּם רֹאשִׁי עַל אֹיְבַי סְבִיבוֹתַי וְאֶזְבְּחָה בְאָהֳלוֹ זִבְחֵי תְרוּעָה אָשִׁירָה וַאֲזַמְּרָה לַיהוָה

ז שְׁמַע-יְהוָה קוֹלִי אֶקְרָא וְחָנֵּנִי וַעֲנֵנִי

ח לְךָ, אָמַר לִבִּי בַּקְּשׁוּ פָנָי אֶת-פָּנֶיךָ יְהוָה אֲבַקֵּשׁ

ט אַל-תַּסְתֵּר פָּנֶיךָ מִמֶּנִּי אַל תַּט-בְּאַף עַבְדֶּךָ עֶזְרָתִי הָיִיתָ אַל-תִּטְּשֵׁנִי וְאַל-תַּעַזְבֵנִי אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׁעִי

י כִּי-אָבִי וְאִמִּי עֲזָבוּנִי וַיהוָה יַאַסְפֵנִי

יא הוֹרֵנִי יְהוָה דַּרְכֶּךָ וּנְחֵנִי בְּאֹרַח מִישׁוֹר לְמַעַן שׁוֹרְרָי

יב אַל-תִּתְּנֵנִי בְּנֶפֶשׁ צָרָי כִּי קָמוּ-בִי עֵדֵי-שֶׁקֶר וִיפֵחַ חָמָס

יג לוּלֵא הֶאֱמַנְתִּי לִרְאוֹת בְּטוּב-יְהוָה בְּאֶרֶץ חַיִּים

יד קַוֵּה אֶל-יְהוָה חֲזַק וְיַאֲמֵץ לִבֶּךָ וְקַוֵּה אֶל-יְהוָה



August 17, 2010

Psalm 26 – As God is My With-ness

TEXT (Hebrew text at end)

1. Of David.

Vindicate me, O LORD, for I have walked in personal integrity; I have trusted in the LORD; I shall not falter.
2. Probe me, O LORD, and try me, test my kidneys1 and heart,
3. for Your steadfast love is before my eyes; I walk in Your faithfulness.
4. I do not sit with worthless men, and will never mix with hypocrites;
5. I hate the assemblage of evildoers, and will not sit with the wicked;
6. I wash my hands in innocence, and circle Your altar, O LORD,
7. sounding the voice of thanksgiving, recounting all Your wonders.
8. O LORD, I love the abode of Your house, the dwelling-place of Your glory.
9. Do not sweep away my being with sinners, my life with the bloodthirsty men,
10. who have schemes in their grip, their right-hand filled with bribes.
11. But I walk in personal integrity; redeem me, have mercy on me!
12. My foot stands on level ground. In assemblies I will bless the LORD.

Note
1. i.e., conscience

COMMENTARY

There is no agreement among commentators on the central concern of Psalm 26. Many critical scholars take this as a protestation of innocence before God of one unjustly accused. ("Accused of idol worship, the psalmist responds with a plea for judgment" – Dahood). For A. Cohen, it voices "the uneasiness which a good man inevitably feels in the midst of evil" ("…he has a sense of insecurity, his mind is beset with doubts.") Hacham senses that there is a response here to the threat emanating from the evildoers. Weiss ("Ideas," pp. 54-60) sees the essence as avoiding the fate of the evildoers.

Structure will indicate that the psalm addresses a more immediate issue. The concern of the speaker is the identity of his companions, those whom he is "with."

Structures, Each Leading to the Next

Often, the structure of a psalm is basic to its interpretation. Psalm 26 is built upon several structures which indicate its thrust.

The clearest structural element is the enclosure. Most blatantly, this appears in the repetition of "walking in personal integrity" (verses 1, 11) but closer inspection shows four different forms of enclosing repetition in verses 1, 2 and 11, 12. We find (a) "walking in personal integrity"; (b) the only references to the LORD in the third person; (c) a verbal pun (bechaneini – "probe me" verse 2; vechanneini – "have mercy on me," verse 11); and (d) a repetition of root letters in mixed order (ma'ad – falter, v. 1; 'amad, stand, v.12). [On the last, note similar uses in Psalm 19 and 90.]

Enclosure is a frequent technique in Biblical poetry, at times drawing attention to the center, and at times defining the poem's subject. It certainly creates the feeling of a tightly written poem.

One is encouraged by the enclosure to seek a structure in the middle. In fact, the middle is composed of obverse statements, as follows. Verse 4 indicates what the speaker does not do together with the evildoers; verse 5 that he hates being with them. Verses 6-7 then indicate what he does do vis-à-vis his God, and verse 8 that he loves being with Him. The section is structured, then, as two radical extremes, just as the speaker radically opts for one, God, and totally rejects the other.

This observation, in turn, would lead one to define the opening and closing as verses 1-3 and 9-11. In fact, each would include two requests (defined as verse 1a and 2; 9 and 11b) and each has a protestation of goodness.
Within that structure, however, there is movement and variation. The two pairs of requests in the opening and closing are not absolutely parallel. We read
1. A request for judgment (1a)
2. A request for judgment (2)
3. A request not be condemned with the evil (9)
4. A request for salvation (11b)

The opening is of two almost synonymous requests, while the last two verses have one request quite like the opening (but not identical – it requests salvation) (11b) but another (9-10) unlike it - not to be included with the evildoers in judgment. However, it could be argued that verse 9-10 is simply the negative way of asking for God's salvation. If so, the speaker, in restating the request at the end, does so in light of the middle. Just as there he opted for positive and negative descriptions of the evil versus God, so now he opts to restate his original request not only in stronger terms (salvation, not just judgment) but also in terms of a positive and a negative articulation.

Core Meaning

There is a central theme throughout Psalm 26―a framework desire to be tested and judged (positively, of course), set against an antithetical possibility of inclusion with evildoers. One senses a fairly lonely speaker, for the opposition is not among two human groups as potential companions, but the evildoers and God. While the speaker is not so bold as to use "with" for his relationship with God (being "with" God is an exclusive, very intense relationship in the Bible), he does use "with" five times for his rejection of the evildoers. The wicked and God are the two options. It seems that the speaker has been unable to find a like-minded community of devotees with whom to associate.

This differentiation is reinforced by use of non-parallel terms: "walk" with God, "sit" with the evil; different body parts associated with each; use of two slightly different terms in association with each: "assemblage," "assemblies" 5, 12 (variations of a root); different terms for hands, 6, 10 (in the latter verse, "grip" is also another term for hand); as well as "with" associated with the wicked as opposed to verb forms (trust, walk, circle, sound, recount, love, stand, bless) associated with God.

The reader also notes in the psalm as a whole a bothersome question. If the speaker's integrity is so clear, what is the perceived need for this prayer, the reason for his fear? One possible response lies in the last issue we considered―perhaps in his eyes he is living in a group which is totally "wicked," and therefore fears being swept away with them. Another possible assumption is that without the prayer, God will not know, and may indeed "make the mistake" the speaker seeks to avoid (verses 9-10). If this is so, does the prayer not presuppose a degree of lack of confidence? (It may be instructive to compare this poem to Psalm 1, which also sets white against black, but which is not in first person, and is contemplative and descriptive. There the one who is with God is "happy" and his situation is assured. One senses little happiness here in Psalm 26.) One might even say that just as the poem prescribes a distance from evil, so it reflects an existential distance between a human being and God.

This psalm then "works" on more than one level. As instruction, it identifies the negative (avoiding the evildoers and their ways) as the base of the positive (about which detail is simply lacking). As a portrait, it is a picture of a person who is alone. As prayer, it seeks personal assurance, even while implying a context of the public prayer ("assemblies," verse 12 - not unlike later Jewish prayer). As personal theology, it is reflective of the barrier between humans and certainty. (This last, however, here remains only an existential given―there is no hint of angst, and the need for prayer distances the speaker neither from the prayer itself nor from his righteous pursuits.) In all of its aspects, it presents the reader with personal and ideational challenges.

There is another possibility I might mention in terms of the speaker's unease at being with the evildoers. One might suggest that the speaker is at some level attracted to them, his subconscious revealed by the poet. One does note the large number (six!) of distinct terms used for what we have constantly called the "evildoers" (plus two descriptions of who they are – verse 10), and five times the poet includes "with" them (Heb– "im") as what he avoids or wants to avoid.

* * * * * * * * * *

Additional Note on Other Views

I comment briefly on the overviews cited above, in the opening paragraph. I find no hint of an implied accusation by others against the speaker, or of any persecution of him or threat against him by others. While Weiss's emphasis on avoiding the fate of the wicked is close to what I write above, there is a small difference: I find the speaker most concerned about his immediate acceptance, and achieving a sense that his acts have led to a proximity to God. He is more concerned with God's attention than he is with ultimate reward.


The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.

HEBREW TEXT

א לְדָוִד שָׁפְטֵנִי יְהוָה כִּי-אֲנִי בְּתֻמִּי הָלַכְתִּי וּבַיהוָה בָּטַחְתִּי לֹא אֶמְעָד


ב בְּחָנֵנִי יְהוָה וְנַסֵּנִי צרופה (צָרְפָה) כִלְיוֹתַי וְלִבִּי

ג כִּי-חַסְדְּךָ לְנֶגֶד עֵינָי וְהִתְהַלַּכְתִּי בַּאֲמִתֶּךָ

ד לֹא-יָשַׁבְתִּי עִם-מְתֵי-שָׁוְא וְעִם נַעֲלָמִים לֹא אָבוֹא

ה שָׂנֵאתִי קְהַל מְרֵעִים וְעִם-רְשָׁעִים לֹא אֵשֵׁב

ו אֶרְחַץ בְּנִקָּיוֹן כַּפָּי וַאֲסֹבְבָה אֶת-מִזְבַּחֲךָ יְהוָה

ז לַשְׁמִעַ בְּקוֹל תּוֹדָה וּלְסַפֵּר כָּל-נִפְלְאוֹתֶיךָ

ח יְהוָה אָהַבְתִּי מְעוֹן בֵּיתֶךָ וּמְקוֹם מִשְׁכַּן כְּבוֹדֶךָ

ט אַל-תֶּאֱסֹף עִם-חַטָּאִים נַפְשִׁי וְעִם-אַנְשֵׁי דָמִים חַיָּי

י אֲשֶׁר-בִּידֵיהֶם זִמָּה וִימִינָם מָלְאָה שֹּׁחַד

יא וַאֲנִי בְּתֻמִּי אֵלֵךְ פְּדֵנִי וְחָנֵּנִי

יב רַגְלִי עָמְדָה בְמִישׁוֹר בְּמַקְהֵלִים אֲבָרֵךְ יְהוָה

August 10, 2010

Psalm 25 – Guilt, Hope, and Forgiveness


TEXT (HEBREW AT END)

1. Of David.

To You, O LORD I lift up my life;
2. my God, in You I trust; may I not be abashed, may my enemies not exult over me.
3. O let none who look to You be abashed; let the baselessly treacherous be abashed.
4. Let me know Your paths, O LORD, teach me Your ways;
5. guide me with Your truth and teach me, for You are God, my deliverer; it is You I look to every day.
6. O LORD, be mindful of Your compassion and Your steadfast love; for they are eternal.
7. Be not mindful of my youthful sins and transgressions, in keeping with Your steadfast love; You should be mindful of me, for the sake of Your goodness, O LORD.
8. Good and upright is the LORD; therefore He shows sinners the way.
9. He guides the lowly in justice, and teaches the lowly His way.
10 A1l the LORD’s ways are steadfast love and faithfulness for those who keep His covenant and His decrees.
11. For Your name’s sake, O LORD, pardon my iniquity, for it is great.
12. Who is the man who fears the LORD? He shall show him what way to choose.
13. He shall have a good life, and his children shall inherit the land.
14. The counsel of the LORD is for those who fear Him; His covenant He makes known to them.
15. My eyes are ever toward the LORD; indeed, He will loose my feet from a net.1
16. Turn to me, be gracious unto me, for I am alone and afflicted.
17. The distress of my heart increases; deliver me from my straits.
18. Consider my affliction and suffering, and forgive all my sins.
19. Consider how numerous my enemies are, how they hate me with a violent hatred!
20. Protect my life and save me; let me not be abashed, for I have sought refuge in You.
21. May integrity and uprightness preserve me, for I look to You.
22. Redeem Israel, O God, from all its distress.

Note
1. i.e., a trap for animals

COMMENTARY

If one feels remorse over significant sin, what assurance is there that God will forgive? Psalm 25 reflects one individual’s search (written in first-person singular) for an answer to that question.

The varied literary structures of Psalm 25 focus the reader’s attention on different emphases of the poem: guilt, a search for hope, and a degree of assurance (this last aspect rooted in a fascinating place). I explore these steps, respectively, in light of the structures that reveal them: the chiasmus that highlights the sin and the guilt; the alphabetical arrangement and word repetition that focus on hope; and the historical reference that reassures. (I thereby do a certain injustice to the psalm, which integrates all three structures and moves among them.)

Chiasmus—Sin and Guilt

Two structures call attention to one central verse.

In terms of speaking to (second person) or about (third person) God, the division is as follows: verses 1–7 “to”; verses 8–10 “about”; verse 11 “to”; verses 12–15 “about”; and verses 16–22 “to.” Verse 11 is thereby highlighted, reflecting the beginning and the end, but isolated within a long central section.

A pattern of word and subject repetition also emphasizes this verse. Several commentators have noted the grand chiasmic structure of Psalm 25. (A chiasmic structure repeats themes, words, phrases, or the like in a reverse pattern―e.g., ABC, CBA.) Although there is some disagreement, the following approximates a consensus of an A-B-C-B-A structure.

A. The outer frame is made up of verses 1–7 and 15–22, which are prayers of supplication, both beginning with a statement of the speaker’s commitment. Within the parallel sets, the beginning of the first reflects the end of the second, reinforcing the chiasm, as follows: The first and last verses, 1 and 22, both break poetic pattern and stand alone as stark overview statements. Further, verses 1–3 and 19–21 repeat four identical Hebrew words or roots―“my life” (nafshi); “my enemies” (oyvai); “abashed” (root, b-o-sh); and “look to” (root, k-v-h), a strong inclusio for the poem..

B. The inner frame is composed of verses 8–10 and 12–14, which describe God’s relation to others, and the sections are dominated by four uses of the root d-r-ch (“way,” which had been used twice before in verses 4–5).

C. The central verse, 11, stands alone.

Verse 11 reads, “For Your name’s sake, O LORD, pardon my iniquity for it is great.” Arising from a deep sense of guilt not hinted at elsewhere, the essence of the speaker’s prayer bursts forth in the midst of his thinking about God and others. (We shall see below that the context of a larger group is vital to the speaker’s consideration of his sin and guilt, for which reason sections B and B-1, with their emphasis on others, are the immediate context for this one line.)

Structure and Its Flaws

Psalm 25 is one of eight alphabetic acrostics within Psalms. Interestingly, in most of the others the full alphabet (22 letters) does not appear in a regular, smooth pattern. Scholars differ as to whether there are purposes or other logical explanations to either the choice of the acrostic form or to the deviations and, if there are, what they are. (Psalm 25 somewhat resembles the deviations of Psalm 34, with some differences.) They tend to agree that there was a twenty-two letter acrostic archetypical format and even that the “model” of twenty-two verses was sometimes pursued without the acrostic. (Note the Book of Lamentations, comprised of four acrostic poems with all twenty-two letters in sequence, and then a fifth poem of twenty-two verses without an acrostic.) The following comments presume that the author chose the structure deliberately and that the deviations may also be purposeful.

In Psalm 25, a first deviation shall not concern us. (In short―it is commonly understood that the author shifted the second letter of the alphabet from the first to the second word of “its” line to isolate and thereby emphasize “My God,” the present first word of the verse.) Two letters are missing―the sixth letter of the alphabet (vav) and the nineteenth (koph). The number of twenty-two verses is maintained by inclusion of a second verse beginning with the twentieth letter (resh) and the addition of a final verse (which begins with a peh, as does the added verse in Psalm 34). I return to possible implications below. [There are those who suggest that verse 22, with its different subject and extra letter, was not in the original. I note, however, that (a) its “oddity” is similar to the first verse and is therefore part of the inclusion noted above; (b) it is necessary for the twenty-two verse count; (c) Psalms often uses a change in the last verse as a literary technique; and (d) scholars who emphasize word and syllable count, such as Freedman and Benun, feel that the text is correct as it stands.]

There are more repeated terms and roots in Psalm 25 than there are verses. Although no one term stands out as exceptional, I note one triple repetition―“look to” (implying hope) in verses 3, 5, and 21, in Hebrew, k-v-h, part of the inclusio. Benun suggests that it is no accident that the first two letters of this root are precisely the two letters missing from the alphabetical progression. (Indeed, one of the appearances of “wait for” comes in verse 5, three words before the vav verse should have appeared. Similarly, two words before the missing koph verse there is the word “my straits,” verse 17, which includes those two letters koph-vav in order.) The missing letters, then, reflect the emphasis of the three repetitions on hope. Benun finds this combination of emphasis and its absence in the alphabet “ironic.”

I suggest that it is more than ironic. If Psalm 25’s subjects are trust, guilt, and forgiveness, the relationship among the three is dependent on the existence of order in this world, God’s order. By way of suggesting that order or reflecting it, the poet chooses frequent repetition and an alphabetical progression. It is precisely the alphabetical omissions that create an enormous tension. Is there or is there not hope? The format is beautifully bipolar. Beginning and end, the speaker professes to wait for God. The alphabetic structure should be a solid, confirming element. However, through the omissions, the poem hints that hope may be missing.

Assurance in the People’s Past

The poet suggests that the response to this challenge is found in another story, indicated through literary reference—the episode of the golden calf.

Of course, in order to claim a link between two texts, one needs a critical mass of connections. In the case of Psalm 25, there are numbers of linguistic links to the golden calf story, which are then reinforced by thematic links, as follows.

The linguistic links, by verses (references to the golden calf narrative, in Exodus, are in brackets): “Let me know Your paths,” verse 4 [33:13]; “Your compassion,” 6 [33:19]; “Your compassion and Your steadfast love,” 6 [34:7]; “be mindful,” 6 and 7 [32:1]; “sins, transgressions,” 7 [34:7]; “good,” 8, 9, and 13 [33:19]; “iniquity,” 11 [34:7]; “pardon…iniquity,” 11 [34:9]; “steadfast love,” 6, 7, and 10 [34:5]; “keep,” 10 [34:7]; “land,” 13 [32:13]; “covenant,” 10 and 14 [34:10]; “be gracious,” 16 [33:19]; “consider,” 18 and 19 [33:12]; and “forgive sins,” 18 [32:32]. Similarly, themes are parallel: that the enemy not rejoice (3 [32:32]); divine guidance (9 [33:14]); and inheriting the land (13 [32:13; 34:9]).

Readers are referred to the golden calf story (Ex. 32–34). Briefly: While Moses is on the mountain receiving the Ten Commandments, the Israelites sin by worshipping at the golden calf. Their fate should have been sealed, but Moses’ intervention is successful, and God forgives the people. This is the story that informs our speaker. In the words of Bazak, “It is clear from our psalm that the forgiveness of the sin of the golden calf is that which gives the poet [I would say speaker] the hope that his personal sin, too great to bear, will be granted atonement.”

That contention has merit. Although not defined, the speaker’s sin is “great,” and the psalm’s structure (as noted above) indicates that he has doubts about there being hope. Here the speaker finds his ultimate assurance in the history of the people as a whole. The path to God, though requested by the individual, is discovered in the national history, as the poet's use of literary references demonstrates.

Whereas it is not the purpose of these essays to explore post-biblical developments, I nevertheless note that this approach sets the tone for later Jewish tradition. The High Holiday liturgy, particularly that of the Day of Atonement, which allows each individual to concentrate on personal sin, makes repeated reference to the forgiveness section of the golden calf story, as reassuring proof of God’s forgiving nature. (That same liturgy also includes the half-verse from Psalm 25, “Pardon my iniquity for it is great,” which stands out for its use of the singular within the context of the prayers, which are almost entirely in the plural.)

This brings us back to Psalm 25 and the last verse. Despite one word repetition (“distress,” from verse 17) and despite a truncated form that is similar to that of the first verse, the last verse has been dismissed by many scholars over the years: it “is not original but was added later when the psalm was adopted for liturgical purposes” (Buttenwieser, an early articulation). As I noted above, the “rhythm” argues that this is not so. More important, that elimination of the final verse also does not appreciate the subtle closing of the psalm. The speaker has found his confidence and the missing hope in the history of the people. It is his final request, through the radical change of the last line, that all the people, the source of his strength, also find relief from their distress, thus “repaying” the nation for its support for him.

So ends this interwoven exploration of guilt, hope, and forgiveness. The themes are, of course, pan-generational, giving the poem its perennial appeal and relevance. The reader, whether thousands of years ago or today, encounters the question of the reassurance of history and how (and to what degree, for the reader) that national history (which some might call myth) provides the strength needed to face one’s own feelings of great guilt.

* * * * * * * * * *

An Additional Note

I have found no compelling explanation for the use of the letter peh for the last verse. It has been noted that the first letters of the first, middle, and last verse thus spell “aleph,” which is both the first letter of the alphabet and a biblical root meaning “teach.” This is possibly just a curiosity, and I leave the question as one of the many to which we do not have a definitive answer.


The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.

HEBREW TEXT

א לְדָוִד אֵלֶיךָ יְהוָה נַפְשִׁי אֶשָּׂא


ב אֱלֹהַי בְּךָ בָטַחְתִּי אַל-אֵבוֹשָׁה אַל-יַעַלְצוּ אוֹיְבַי לִי

ג גַּם כָּל-קֹוֶיךָ לֹא יֵבֹשׁוּ יֵבֹשׁוּ הַבּוֹגְדִים רֵיקָם

ד דְּרָכֶיךָ יְהוָה הוֹדִיעֵנִי אֹרְחוֹתֶיךָ לַמְּדֵנִי

ה הַדְרִיכֵנִי בַאֲמִתֶּךָ וְלַמְּדֵנִי כִּי-אַתָּה אֱלֹהֵי יִשְׁעִי אוֹתְךָ קִוִּיתִי כָּל-הַיּוֹם

ו זְכֹר-רַחֲמֶיךָ יְהוָה וַחֲסָדֶיךָ כִּי מֵעוֹלָם הֵמָּה

ז חַטֹּאות נְעוּרַי וּפְשָׁעַי אַל-תִּזְכֹּר

כְּחַסְדְּךָ זְכָר-לִי-אַתָּה לְמַעַן טוּבְךָ יְהוָה

ח טוֹב-וְיָשָׁר יְהוָה עַל-כֵּן יוֹרֶה חַטָּאִים בַּדָּרֶךְ

ט יַדְרֵךְ עֲנָוִים בַּמִּשְׁפָּט וִילַמֵּד עֲנָוִים דַּרְכּוֹ

י כָּל-אָרְחוֹת יְהוָה חֶסֶד וֶאֱמֶת לְנֹצְרֵי בְרִיתוֹ וְעֵדֹתָיו

יא לְמַעַן-שִׁמְךָ יְהוָה וְסָלַחְתָּ לַעֲו‍ֹנִי כִּי רַב-הוּא

יב מִי-זֶה הָאִישׁ יְרֵא יְהוָה יוֹרֶנּוּ בְּדֶרֶךְ יִבְחָר

יג נַפְשׁוֹ בְּטוֹב תָּלִין וְזַרְעוֹ יִירַשׁ אָרֶץ

יד סוֹד יְהוָה לִירֵאָיו וּבְרִיתוֹ לְהוֹדִיעָם

טו עֵינַי תָּמִיד אֶל-יְהוָה כִּי הוּא-יוֹצִיא מֵרֶשֶׁת רַגְלָי

טז פְּנֵה-אֵלַי וְחָנֵּנִי כִּי-יָחִיד וְעָנִי אָנִי

יז צָרוֹת לְבָבִי הִרְחִיבוּ מִמְּצוּקוֹתַי הוֹצִיאֵנִי

יח רְאֵה עָנְיִי וַעֲמָלִי וְשָׂא לְכָל-חַטֹּאותָי

יט רְאֵה-אֹיְבַי כִּי-רָבּוּ וְשִׂנְאַת חָמָס שְׂנֵאוּנִי

כ שָׁמְרָה נַפְשִׁי וְהַצִּילֵנִי אַל-אֵבוֹשׁ כִּי-חָסִיתִי בָךְ

כא תֹּם-וָיֹשֶׁר יִצְּרוּנִי כִּי קִוִּיתִיךָ

כב פְּדֵה אֱלֹהִים אֶת-יִשְׂרָאֵל מִכֹּל צָרוֹתָיו



August 3, 2010

Psalm 24 – Gates of Heaven

TEXT

1. Of David. A psalm.

The LORD’s is the earth and everything therein, the world and its inhabitants,
2. for He founded it upon the seas, set it upon the nether-streams.

3. Who may ascend the mountain of the LORD? Who may stand in His holy place?
4. He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not 1-taken My person-1 to what is false or sworn deceitfully.
5. He shall take away a blessing from the LORD, a just reward from the God of his salvation.
6. Such is the generation of those who search for Him, who seek Your presence, O Jacob.2      Selah.

7. Take up your heads, O gates, and be taken up, everlasting doorways, that the King of glory may come in!
8. Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle.
9. Take up your heads, O gates, and take up, everlasting doorways, that the King of glory may come in!
10. Who is this King of glory? The LORD of hosts, He is the King of glory!      Selah.

Notes
1. “Take My person” indices making a false oath. Cf. Exodus 20:7. Many Hebrew manuscripts and ancient versions read “His” [or ‘his’] person.” The word here and subsequently translated “take” is usually translated lift.
2. Implies either “God of Jacob” or address to people of Jacob.



COMMENTARY

Societies occasionally generate documents of core affirmations. Psalm 24 may be such a declaration.

Basic Challenges

Even a cursory reading of Psalm 24 reveals three radically different sections (1–2, 3–6, 7–10). As expected, we hear the immediate voices of the dividers: According to Alter, “Scholarly consensus [is that verses 7–10 are]… an originally separate poem.” However, in fact, there is no such consensus, and there are signs of unity within the poem, as follows. There is a possible enclosure (“He,” for the LORD, verses 2 and 9). The first and second sections are tightly bound by repetitions of “Who” in both, and the frequent repetition (six times) of “take”(n-s-’ ). Moreover, there is a clear progression of “doubling” in the psalm: at first, isolated instances (root, word, or sound), which quickly builds to multiple repetitions, to phrases, and then to a whole sentence. Were this music, it would move from pianissimo to fortissimo in ten short sentences. This too indicates planned unity.

In terms of unified readings, I also note how the Malbim reads the first two verses. He sees the first half of each as referring to God-and-the-universe and the second to God-and-humans. (He understands "nether-streams" as “rivers,” i.e., that which allows man to build settlements.) This would indicate that these two verses introduce the two subjects that follow: the ideal person (section 2) and God-and-the world (approaching the eternal entrances, section 3).

As a unit, however, the psalm presents striking challenges, not only in the relationship among the parts, but particularly in the highly picturesque imagery of the third section. There are terms that appear only here in the Bible: “the King of Glory” and “the everlasting openings.” The personification is extreme―gates and doorways are addressed, speak, and act. The physical image is not at all clear―the eternal doorways (not quite “doors,” but rather the entrance opening) being “taken up,” the gates taking up their “heads.” What is being entered? The interpretation of this section will determine the interpretation of the psalm.

I present below two overviews for the reader’s consideration. First, I describe one version of a widespread interpretation of the psalm, as a text for processional entrance into the earthly Temple, with that theory’s principal underpinnings. Following a list of reservations, I suggest an alternative interpretation (which also has weaknesses). Following those sections, I return to the second section of the poem—the description of the ideal person.

The Ark Returns to the Temple

The widely accepted approach to the third section of Psalm 24 is that it poetically describes the return of the Ark of the Lord (depicted as the return of God Himself) to the Temple in Jerusalem, perhaps originally written after a battle. Among the outstanding supports for this approach are the fact that the Ark at one time did go out into the field of battle (see I Sam. 4), that the “Ark” is connected to the term “glory” in several contexts, that the imagery befits a procession, that the military imagery befits a battle, and that it would make sense as a parallel to the second section (which is the ascension of man to the Temple). The highly poetic terminology is necessitated by “seeing” what is inherently not seen, and the text befits an antiphonal choir presentation, taking roles for the pageant. The poem gains its unity from the parallel human and divine approaches to the Temple in the second and third sections.

Since the ark evidently ceased to go out to battle very early in Israel’s history (II Sam. 15:24–29), the psalm (at least the third section) is thought to have been written early (though the highly figurative language would allow its use in liturgy afterward). Alternatively, some consider that the origin is not a battle, but rather an incident in the life of one of Israel’s first kings, either David bringing the Ark to Jerusalem or Solomon on completing the building of the Temple. The early date would also help relieve any reservation one had about the physical idea that God accompanied the Ark, since this would be attributed to a very early stage in the development of the Israelite religion.

Often this theory is supplemented by the understanding that the psalm was recited in three separate stages (subsequent to its first use) at an envisioned annual festival when the Ark was brought forward: the first section while pilgrims approached Jerusalem (a reconfirmation that God owns the earth), the second right outside the city (who may enter here?), and the third at the ceremony itself.

As attractive as this theory may be, one must note some reservations and difficulties. First, it presumes many ceremonies or practices of which we have no independent confirmation whatsoever: the Ark entrance ceremony, a psalm recited in three parts at three times, choirs personifying inanimate objects, etc. In short, the theory “fits” because it evolved from the psalm. Second, if the gates are those of the city, lifting up their heads makes little sense (the gates opened out or in) and if the “heads” mean the constructed part above, the poem is reduced to the claim “God is too tall,” which certainly does not measure up to the grandeur of the section. Third, the term “eternal doorways” is problematic because “eternal” is never applied to the standing Temple (see "Additional Notes"). Fourth, the personification is extreme if these are the physical gates. Fifth, for those who go so far as to read the second section as a test for admission (i.e., not just an admonition), there is no record of such a practice. In fact, all who were not physically impure were welcome in the Temple. Sixth, “glory” is associated with God in several contexts (Ps. 104:31: “May the glory of God endure forever”), so its use does not require reference to the Ark. Finally, while the theory unites the second and third sections, the connection to the introduction is tenuous at best.

Biblical Metaphysics

Reducing the implication of “metaphysics” to “first principles,” I suggest that Psalm 24 is a presentation of biblical metaphysics, the poet’s attempt to articulate the first principles that underlie the national worldview, as follows.

According to this understanding, the third section does not describe earthly Jerusalem or the Ark or the Temple, but rather God’s celestial home. [Echoes of God having such a home are found throughout the Bible, such as “Look down from Your holy abode, from heaven” (Dt. 26:15), and “Look down from heaven and see, from Your holy and glorious height’ (Is. 63:15). The prophets report a number of visions of God there, and He acts from there (Ps. 14:2: “The LORD looks down from heaven”). As the end of Isaiah cites God: “The heaven is my throne, the earth my footstool’ (66:1).] The description would be heavenly and the use of “gates” and “doorways” metaphoric (but not so the term “everlasting,” which would be literal). The description befits some of the prophetic, exaggerated, and metaphoric heavenly descriptions, such as Ezekiel 3:12, “Blessed be the glory of the LORD from His (or ‘its’) place.”

In short, parallel to ethical man entering God’s Temple in the second section, the LORD enters His own residence in the third.

The connection to the second section, however, is more than mere parallelism. The descriptions of the LORD in the third section indicate that He is the mighty, valiant hero of war, the LORD of hosts. The human and divine would thus seem to “meet” in parallel universes, and the message is that the Creator (section 1) and the Source of Power (section 3, as per the terms used) is the ultimate support in battle precisely for that human being described in the second section; it is he, not some self-styled hero, who has the ultimate backing of the LORD. (Thus in section 2 the human “goes up” and in section 3 the LORD “comes,” two terms that appear, on occasion, as a pair, e.g., Ex. 7:8; I Kings 1:35.)

I also conjecture (no more than that, since the linguistic basis is weak) that perhaps after reading the third section, the reader is asked to reconsider the possibility that the terms of the second section, which by all common biblical usage imply the earthly Temple, imply in addition God’s abode above.

The three sections fit well: the first recalling the basic truth of Creation and introducing (as above) both the human and divine elements; the second defining the human ideal; and the third a parallel entrance, sealing the connection. In fact the last word thus becomes a connecting word play, “hosts” taking on three references parallel to the three sections: the hosts of heaven as in Creation, the hosts of Israel as in the masses coming to the Temple, and the army hosts of war.

The psalmist presents, but does not challenge, this metaphysical understanding (God is Creator, God is Power, and God supports the righteous individual). That is left for other contexts, or perhaps to the reader.

The Ideal Person

In any case, the second section needs some further explanation. Many interpreters note an encompassing tone to the description: mind, heart, and action. The field of play is human ethics, and notably missing are matters of ritual or belief.

Jacob Bazak ("Daily") has offered a different analysis of the second section, which I summarize. “Who has not taken a false oath” is the usual interpretation of verse 4 (see note), but Bazak points out that honesty in oaths was such a basic underpinning of society that it is unreasonable to assume that simple fealty to one’s oath would be a criterion of special holiness. He therefore interprets verse 4 to mean: “Who does not lust after falseness” (i.e., false rumors). The next phrase “sworn deceitfully” is subject to the same objection, and he offers the following understanding: “who has sworn (to say) ‘No’ to deceit.” These interpretations make the verse a close parallel to another psalm’s prescribed ideal, Psalm 34:14: “Guard your tongue from evil and your lips from deceitful speech.” The section would then open with general descriptions of righteousness in thought, speech, and deed and continue with two outstanding details of ethical behavior.

In any case, whether the reference in verse 4 is to honesty (as per Bazak) or to false oaths, the person epitomizes purity and righteousness. As in similar attempts to define the ideal person in Psalms (15; 34:13–15 and cf. Isaiah 33:14–16), it is the ethical ideal that is primary. This is the person God wishes to “meet” (in one sanctuary or the other). The import for understanding biblical priorities is enormous.

* * * * * * * * *

Additional Notes

“Jacob,” verse 6, is variously understood as God of Jacob (so the Septuagint reads), or an address to the people, “O Jacob.” (Israel, Jacob’s other name, is more often used for the people.) Either may be correct.

“Eternal” (7, 9) is used in the Bible to describe aspects of the world (even physical), God’s gifts to the people of Israel, God’s qualities, etc., but the term is never applied to the existing Temple. The closest one gets is one description of eternal Jerusalem, in I Chr.23:25, a very late verse put into David’s mouth. In terms of the Temple itself, Ezekiel does foresee that the future rebuilt Temple will be “forever” (37:28; 43:7, 9). One should also recall Jeremiah’s condemnation of those who felt that God’s Temple could not be destroyed (Jeremiah 7:3–15). In short, there is ample reason to believe that the psalmist would not have used "eternal" had the reference been to the earthly Temple . (Note that those who do believe that the earthly Temple is the reference in Psalm 24, usually adopt the more limited, but possible, translation, “ancient” doorways.)


The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.

HEBREW TEXT

א לְדָוִד מִזְמוֹר


לַיהוָה הָאָרֶץ וּמְלוֹאָהּ תֵּבֵל וְיֹשְׁבֵי בָהּ

ב כִּי-הוּא עַל-יַמִּים יְסָדָהּ וְעַל-נְהָרוֹת יְכוֹנְנֶהָ

ג מִי-יַעֲלֶה בְהַר-יְהוָה וּמִי-יָקוּם בִּמְקוֹם קָדְשׁוֹ

ד נְקִי כַפַּיִם וּבַר-לֵבָב אֲשֶׁר לֹא-נָשָׂא לַשָּׁוְא נַפְשִׁי וְלֹא נִשְׁבַּע לְמִרְמָה

ה יִשָּׂא בְרָכָה מֵאֵת יְהוָה וּצְדָקָה מֵאֱלֹהֵי יִשְׁעוֹ

ו זֶה דּוֹר דֹּרְשָׁו מְבַקְשֵׁי פָנֶיךָ יַעֲקֹב סֶלָה

ז שְׂאוּ שְׁעָרִים רָאשֵׁיכֶם וְהִנָּשְׂאוּ פִּתְחֵי עוֹלָם וְיָבוֹא מֶלֶךְ הַכָּבוֹד

ח מִי זֶה מֶלֶךְ הַכָּבוֹד יְהוָה עִזּוּז וְגִבּוֹר יְהוָה גִּבּוֹר מִלְחָמָה

ט שְׂאוּ שְׁעָרִים רָאשֵׁיכֶם וּשְׂאוּ פִּתְחֵי עוֹלָם וְיָבֹא מֶלֶךְ הַכָּבוֹד

י מִי הוּא זֶה מֶלֶךְ הַכָּבוֹד יְהוָה צְבָאוֹת הוּא מֶלֶךְ הַכָּבוֹד סֶלָה

July 27, 2010

Psalm 23―With Me


TEXT (for Hebrew see end)

1. A psalm. Of David.

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.
2. In green pastures He makes me lie down; by quiet waters He leads me.
3. He renews my life; He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
4. Even though I walk through the darkest valley,1 I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
5. You set a table for me in full view of my enemies; You rub my head with oil; my cup runs over.
6. Only goodness and steadfast love shall pursue me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD for the length of days.

Note
1. Or, “the valley of the shadow of death”

COMMENTARY

Introductory Thoughts

“The twenty third psalm is the nightingale of the Psalms. It is small, of a homely feather, singing shyly out of obscurity; but oh! it has filled the air of the whole world with melodious joy, greater than the heart can conceive.”(Henry Ward Beecher, Life Thoughts)

Indeed, some psalms read so beautifully and effectively as poetry that one is reluctant to reduce them to prose analysis. Such is Psalm 23. That said, aware that my purpose is only to return to the original with a little greater sensitivity to words, structures, etc., I proceed.


Psalm 23 is often recited in semi-liturgical Jewish contexts (e.g., third meal on the Shabbat, funerals, memorial prayers), but rarely in the more formal cycles of liturgy, possibly owing to its radically individual nature: the speaker is talking about and then to his God and about himself. (Most Jewish prayer is in the plural.) Its form may also be exceptional. Several commentators have noted a “complete breakdown” in parallelism (Gillingham,” 190, citing Kugel).

Psalm 23 is often misunderstood as a tremendously encouraging (if static) declaration of personal confidence in God’s providence. Indeed, we confront a speaker of great faith. In the articulation, however, the poet leaves us with much more complex material to contemplate. Outstanding among the challenges is the change between two metaphors— God as shepherd and God as a protective host. The psalm begs to be read slowly, to trace the change. In fact, tracing that transition reveals a pattern. It is precisely through the poem’s dynamism that the psalmist confronts us.

I proceed accordingly, offering first my understanding of the progression and then an alternate view. Thereafter, I focus on the threats implied by the metaphors in the middle and finally return to the striking first and last verses.

The Progression

Verses 1–2: The image is clearly of God as a shepherd, a metaphor found in the Bible with some frequency (and there are indications that the image was internationally applied to deities). The needs filled are basic but comprehensive, and at this point the scene is idyllic. The picture is minimalist: all is well, as God provides food, water, and serenity. (Outside threats will be articulated only later.)

Verses 3–4: First read, the verses are a little puzzling, for the metaphor of sheep, which so befits verse 4, seems less appropriate for verse 3, which might imply human presence. There are two ways to read the two verses.

As shepherd to a sheep: God watches over the life (safety) of the speaker (lamb), taking him through right (successful) paths, even guiding him through the most dangerous of passages successfully. The sheep trusts fully in the shepherd, whose symbols are the rod and staff he carries.

In this interpretation, certain phrases are jarring. “Right paths” would be a very unusual, if still possible, understanding of the Hebrew term, which usually implies “paths of righteousness” (which then would seem to be abandoning the metaphor in favor of a human term). So, too, “for His name’s sake” is used elsewhere in the Bible for God’s actions regarding humans. In light of these apparent anomalies, one is also struck by the change in verse 4 in reference to God from third to second person. The speaker now addresses God, rather than talking about Him. This is more appropriate for humans.

As God to a human: One then rereads verses 3 and 4, discovering a parallel understanding, the reference not (just?) to sheep, but also to humans. The “darkest valley” (or the “shadow of death”) now implies fear as much as danger. “Right paths” takes on the direct implication of right behavior, as well as a common second meaning of the term, paths of victory, emphasizing the life-saving element of the verse. “Rod-and-staff” changes from the shepherd’s accoutrements to the instruments of God’s justice and support. As human to God, the term “with me” grows particularly more powerful. Used rarely in connection with the deity (three times by Jacob, in contexts of God being with him on his journey; once by God inviting Moses to stand with Him; and once by Job recalling God’s former support), the term, an implied act of grace, is now placed in the center of the psalm. One wonders whether the psalm comes to define this rare and challenging phrase: what does it mean to “be with” God? [Yaakov Bazak points out that the three Hebrew words “for You are with me” are precisely the middle of the psalm by word count, without the title (Numeric Structures in the Psalms, Jerusalem, 1999, p. 18).]

Just as the metaphoric (sheep) reading of verses 3–4 raised the level of support from subsistence to security and just as it added the element of movement to the static first two verses, so the “human reading” moves the poem even further along, now to include assurance and confidence in the face of danger and fear.

(A word on the double reading: We find in the Bible examples of “Janus parallelism,” wherein a term is understood in one way with what comes before and in another way with what comes after. Here we have fully two sentences that can be so conceived.)

Verse 5 continues the ascent, the idea of being “with” God now made public as God plays solicitous host (providing a sumptuous meal and rubbing the head of the speaker with oil)! The description has here taken on incredibly wide proportions, God honoring man!

Verse 6, in turn, expands even further with the element of time: dwelling (alternatively, “being at peace”) in God’s presence all of the years (“days”) of one’s life. By returning to reference to God in the third person, the verse encloses the psalm (as does its inclusio, “LORD”) and invites immediate comparison to its beginning. Indeed, the change is massive. The original “lacking nothing,” which implied having basic food and rest, has moved all the way to life-long intimacy and protection with and by God! Thus the psalm has evolved, smoothly but quickly, between extremes―not from poverty to plenty, but from minimal to maximal degrees of association and support.

It is this progression that the poet offers the reader. Much is left to consider. Was the progression simply an insight into the growth of faith or perhaps a pedagogic suggestion as to how to teach or achieve faith (a road map of sorts) and/or perhaps a hymn of praise to our ability to build from one insight to another? Conversely, could it be that the poet is offering a critique of getting caught up in ever widening circles, never realizing that we have lost touch with reality? Do we ask for too much, never satisfied?

I also cite the (complementary or alternative?) reading of Hamotal Bar Yosef. For her, the poet is being either autobiographic or national-historic. If the former, this is the progression of faith from childhood to adulthood through difficulties, moving from simple belief through threat and danger, on to adult closeness, and finally to fully mature longing for total presence. If national, the history traces the People from its pastoral beginnings all the way to its settled status with its Temple.

I proceed to some observations concerning the details of the poetry.

Metaphors of Threat (Middle Verses)

The valley of “death” or of “darkness” (second now preferred) appears only here in the Bible, an effective metaphor for danger, to both sheep and humans. The physical movement across the psalm is marked: from stream and lea, through a valley, to a tent (presumably, where the food is offered), to the metaphor of a mountain (the LORD’s house). The physical progress mirrors the expansion of the relationship.

“Rod” is a double entendre. This is the shepherd’s tool for guiding and counting his sheep. When applied to God, however, the rod is a symbol of sovereignty and punishment, and usually bears an ominous tone. Thus Kimche interprets: “The more you strike me with Your rod of chastisement, then return to support me—these are my comforts, for thus I know that You do not abandon me to chance.” (Thus verse 4 takes on the implication not only of security but also of teaching through life experiences and chastisement.) The combination of rod and staff in that framework echoes the progression of the psalm as a whole: in the latter case from minimal to maximal support; in the two words, from appreciation of trials to appreciation of support.

The poet Ludwig Strauss notes that the “frame” of the poem speaks of the LORD in the third person and further notes that the switch in the middle to the intimate second-person address to God occurs in the valley of darkness. He sees the experience of the valley and the rod as the core message of the psalm: a view of “the long wanderings through twisted paths, whose final goal has been always known: happiness and peace.”

The Opening and Closing Verses

The opening verse is particularly striking.

1. The English, which reads smoothly, cannot adequately reflect the Hebrew, which is a staccato list of four brief words (eight syllables), roughly, “LORD/ my shepherd/ I don’t/ want.” Its exceptional form draws immediate attention. (Nechama Leibowitz calls this “monumental brevity.”)

2. The metaphor is also unusual. The “shepherd” metaphor appears in the Bible (with one exception, Gen. 48:15, “shepherd” there a verb) as applied to the group (= the flock), not to an individual.

3. In the four words, the first two speak of God and the last two of man. These are the two subjects of the psalm, which is all about their relationship.

4. Embracing positive and negative, the verse’s tone is encompassing.

5. "I shall not want" is, in its way, a double negative, referring to what is missing. A psychologist friend suggests that this might indicate that materially the speaker is very much in want, further emphasizing that the nearness to God overcomes any such problem, leading to the speaker's "honest" opening statement.

6. Not unlike many psalms (an aspect of Psalms I have not emphasized sufficiently to date in these essays), this first verse announces the subject of the psalm, and even as it becomes more complex through the entire reading, it remains afterwards a startling sentence that both summarizes and recalls all that has been said.

The final verse is also intriguing.

1. It opens, “Only goodness and steadfast love shall pursue me.” “Pursue” is a powerful personification (better than the oft-used “follow”). The translation “steadfast love” implies that this is a gift from God. The same term, if a man is acting, means “kindness.” There is a double entendre here: the two qualities, steadfast love and kindness, both “pursue” him, one as a gift from God and the other as a personal characteristic, that guide him and force his actions, thus qualifying him for the reward articulated in the second half of the verse (“I shall dwell…”). Both readings apply. Elsewhere in the Bible, when “goodness” and "steadfast love” are used with “pursue,” they are the objects of the pursuit, not the pursuer.

2. The finality of the verse is obvious, as is the huge contrast with the psalm’s opening (House of the LORD as opposed to the lea and stream of verse 2. Note also the full banquet of verse 5 as opposed to the water and grass of verse 2). This is also emphasized by the closing double use of “days” in the parallel phrases “all the days” and “length of days.”

3. One can hardly imagine a more positive verse as a conclusion, perhaps one of the secrets of Psalm 23's great appeal.

So reads Psalm 23. For moments of prayer, this psalm can be a supreme inspiration and comfort. As a study in religious personality, it is an engrossing piece of poetry, to be contemplated and constantly revisited. In seeking to put those two reactions together, the reader is given a chance to explore his or her own ultimate hopes and requests.

* * * * * * * * *

Additional Notes

The Hebrew displays an appreciation of sound echoes, not reproduced in the English: for example, “shepherd” (ro’eh) and “evil” (ra’); “still waters” (2 – mei menuchot), "He guides me" (3 - yancheni) and “they comfort me” (4 – yenachamuni); “green pastures” (2 – ne’ot deshe) and “rub” (5 – dishanta); and “renews” (3 – yishovev) and “dwell” (6 – vishavti).

"I shall dwell' (verse 6) is a most unusual form, and assumes that a letter has been left out as a shorthand of sorts, an assumption accepted by most interpreters (perhaps in light of Psalm 27:4). As printed, it could mean "I shall return." One reader of this essay suggests that the use of that term at the end is an invitation to "return" to the first verse (on which, see above).


The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.

HEBREW TEXT

א מִזְמוֹר לְדָוִד יְהוָה רֹעִי לֹא אֶחְסָר


ב בִּנְאוֹת דֶּשֶׁא יַרְבִּיצֵנִי עַל-מֵי מְנֻחוֹת יְנַהֲלֵנִי

ג נַפְשִׁי יְשׁוֹבֵב יַנְחֵנִי בְמַעְגְּלֵי-צֶדֶק לְמַעַן שְׁמוֹ

ד גַּם כִּי-אֵלֵךְ בְּגֵיא צַלְמָוֶת לֹא-אִירָא רָע כִּי-אַתָּה עִמָּדִי

שִׁבְטְךָ וּמִשְׁעַנְתֶּךָ הֵמָּה יְנַחֲמֻנִי

ה תַּעֲרֹךְ לְפָנַי שֻׁלְחָן נֶגֶד צֹרְרָי

דִּשַּׁנְתָּ בַשֶּׁמֶן רֹאשִׁי כּוֹסִי רְוָיָה

ו אַךְ טוֹב וָחֶסֶד יִרְדְּפוּנִי כָּל-יְמֵי חַיָּי

וְשַׁבְתִּי בְּבֵית-יְהוָה לְאֹרֶךְ יָמִים

July 20, 2010

Psalm 22 – Why Have You Abandoned Me?


TEXT

(Initial note – some English translations do not number the title verse.)

1. For the leader; on ayelet ha-shachar.1 A psalm. Of David.

2. My God, my God, why have You abandoned me—so far from delivering me, my roaring words!?
3. My God, I cry by day, but You do not answer; and by night, but I have no quiet.
4. But You are the Holy One, enthroned on the praises of Israel.
5. In You our fathers trusted; they trusted, and You delivered them.
6. To You they cried out and they escaped; in You they trusted and were not put to shame.
7. But I am a worm, not a human; scorned by men, despised by the people.
8. All who see me mock me; they curl their lip, shaking the head:
9. “‘Commit yourself to the LORD.’ He will rescue him, He will save him, for He is pleased with him.”
10. Indeed, You drew me from the belly, led me to trust at my mother’s breast.
11. Upon You I was cast since the womb; from my mother’s belly You have been my God.
12. Do not be far from me, for trouble is near, for there is no one to help.
13. Many bulls encircle me; mighty ones of Bashan surround me
14. They open their mouths at me―a tearing, roaring lion.
15. Like water I am poured out, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax, melting in my innards;
16. my palate2 dries up like a shard; my tongue cleaves to my jaws; You commit me to the dust of death.
17. Dogs encircle me; a pack of evil ones closes in on me, like a lion [at]3 my hands and feet.
18. I count all my bones. They look, they stare at me;
19. they divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothes they cast lots.
20. But You, O LORD be not far; my strength, hasten to my aid.
21. Save my life from the sword, my person from the grasp of a dog.
22. Rescue me from a lion’s mouth, from the horns of wild oxen—answer me.

23. I will proclaim Your reputation to my brothers, in the congregation, praise You.
24. You who fear the LORD, praise Him! All you progeny of Jacob, honor Him! Be in awe of Him, all you progeny of Israel!
25. For He did not despise; He did not spurn the oppression4 of the oppressed; He did not hide His face from him; when he cried out to Him, He heard.
26. For You―my praise in the great congregation; I pay my vows in the presence of those who fear Him.
27. The oppressed will eat and be satisfied; all who seek the LORD will praise Him. May your hearts thrive forever!
28. All the ends of the earth will remember and return to the LORD and the families of all nations will bow low before You;
29. for kingship is the LORD’s. He is the ruler of the nations.
30. All the fat ones5 of the earth shall eat and bow low; all those who go down to the dust, whose life is undone, shall kneel before Him.
31. Progeny shall serve Him; the Lord’s fame shall be proclaimed to the generation (to come);
32. they shall come proclaim His beneficence to people yet to be born, for He has so acted.

Notes
1. Hebrew uncertain.
2. Reading chiki for cochi, with NRSV, Alter, others.
3. Hebrew uncertain.
4. Also means “plea.”
5. That is, rich.

COMMENTARY

The Psalm’s Own Introduction

Great literature often captures the reader with an opening phrase, sentence, or scene. So it is with Psalm 22.

“My God, my God why have you abandoned me? {Why} so far from my deliverance? (Why so far from) the roar of my words?” - The double call to another party (“My God, my God”) is reserved in the Bible for moments that are almost beyond comprehension. Examples are: “The LORD, the LORD” in God’s attributes (Ex. 34:6); “Abraham, Abraham,” when he is told not to sacrifice his son (Gen. 22:11); and “My son, my son” which King David says on hearing of Absolom’s death (II Sam. 19:1,5). Thus, the poet shocks the reader into attention and sets the stage for what follows.

From within this first verse, a tortuous pain emerges, highlighted by what should be a logical contradiction: if God has left him, He cannot hear; and if God is there to be called, He has not left. But this is not logic; it is pain. And so the speaker cries, “You are (doubly) far—from any help You could or would give me and then even from hearing me. The sound is the agony of (a lion-type) “roaring,” a sound that in human experience echoes through hills and forests, but still God does not hear. (A complementary reading of the second half of the verse asks why the roaring words are so ineffective in bringing salvation.) The reader, overwhelmed, must pause, able to continue only in hope of finding some relief, but he does not find it in the verses that follow.

I shall comment on the content by section. I first note, however, that the author of Psalm 22 is one of the most audacious in all of Psalms. His use of extremes (such as no other psalmist dares use) and his surrealistic mix of compelling images have rightfully drawn attention and admiration. His most daring step, however, has gone almost unnoticed. I note it at the end of these comments.

Unable to do full justice to this poetry in a short commentary, I shall briefly note the structure, as many have described it; dwell on some imagery (by section); and finally analyze the most radical problem of the psalm, its apparent total reversal. It is in this last section that we find one of the most interesting changes in the Psalter.

The Structure

The two main sections of the psalm could not be more different, nor could they be more clearly marked. The first section, verses 1–22, is the extended cry of pain that expands on the first verse. This section is enclosed by "answer", the speaker's request of God. It is addressed exclusively to God, and its sad and desperate tone is uniform, even as the imagery varies. The object of concern is the speaker and his anguish. The section itself is split into two parts, verses 1–12 and 13–22. (Somewhat disputed, this is the most probable division.) Each part includes a petition near the end (11, 20–22), and both seek to overcome the “distance” (11, 20) so painfully referred to at the beginning. The first part recalls the past, both national (the forefathers) and personal (birth), the verb “trust” rising from the past to be repeated four times. The second part is a torrent of metaphors depicting the depth of the speaker’s dire situation.

The second section, verses 23–32, enclosed by the term “proclaim,” would seem to have a wildly different agenda. Here the speaker describes the LORD, a description more excessive than any other in Psalms. Although there are still three cases of direct address to God (two in verse 23—a bridge from the first section), this section as a whole is between the speaker and others. The tone could not be more different than that of the first section. God’s greatness is described to all, with encompassing superlatives.

I shall return to the basic question of the relationship between the two main sections. It first behooves us, however, to take note of some of the outstanding metaphors and similes, and the poet’s use of the span of time and generations.

The Imagery—By the Three Divisions

a. Verses 1–12 (Section 1, Part 1): The Past

The implication of the opening verse, that God was once close, is developed in verses 1–12 through a marked nostalgia. After each of two explications of the sadness, the past is cited, first of the nation (“our fathers”), and then of himself (twice, “my mother”). In neither case could this past be technically “remembered.” (The personal past is of a newborn.) The poet puts in the mouth of his speaker a classic nostalgic construct, an idealized picture, in this instance, of God’s support. We learn nothing of that past itself, only of the speaker’s solid conception of it. For him, it is the anchor that holds him through the tempest. For the reader, it is a cause of thought and wonder.

Certain images return later. The concentration on birth returns in the final section, which is framed not only by “proclaim,” but also by “progeny” (23, 31) and cites people yet to be born. Memory also reappears, as the "ends of the earth," the nations (!), are told to “remember” a history that is not their own.

b. Verses 13–22 (Section 1, Part 2): Surrealism

(I borrow this paragraph’s title term from Schaefer, who calls this “a surrealistic picture” and “a shifting montage.”) With the scene having been stretched to the distant past, these verses now add a wide variety of descriptions, perhaps reflecting the poet’s desperation in looking for an adequate articulation. The animals attack in their varied roles: the bulls goring, the lions tearing to pieces, the dogs scavenging. (Their removal is sought in reverse order in verses 21–22, enclosing the selection, assuming a parallel between "bulls" and "oxen.") These animal images segue into human enemies watching and enjoying the approaching death, and already dividing the spoils. Further, the poet marshals physical metaphors. The solid body dissolves into liquid (15), then undergoes dehydration, even as it dries into dust (16). Finally, the repeated term “encircle” accurately reflects the swirling of the enemies, their massive numbers, their variety, and the speaker’s sense of entrapment.

c. The Expansion (Section 2)

In the first section, the first part took the reader back in time and the second painted a varied canvas of horrid images. The second section takes the reader to extremes where other psalms simply do not go.

Not only will the children of Israel praise God; so will the whole world. Not only will the oppressed be answered; even the wealthy will eat and praise (verse 30, see note). Not only will the living praise; so shall the dead (verse 30)! Not only will those who are alive now praise; so too will the yet unborn! “Extreme” is almost an understatement. The prior depths of depression are matched by the heights of ecstasy. The reader is, at the end, simply overwhelmed. If the poet sought confrontation with extremes and contradiction, he has achieved it, as he calls on the nations to remember things they could not remember and on the dead to praise God (which is contrary to the recurring biblical insistence that the dead do NOT praise God). The reader encounters an author whose use of the unreal paradoxically seems to create a most realistic image.

A Digression

The major challenge, of course, is not the imagery but the contradiction. As in some other psalms' studies, however, we must pause before considering a contradiction in order first to dismiss an all too common interpretation. Faced with the radical change in mood, numbers of modern commentators rush to the theory that two separate psalms were “somehow” joined.

Independent of the interpretation that follows here, however, form (and not just the received tradition) reveals that the psalm is one: (a) The frame-words of the two main sections are mirrored in the alternate section, and in each case the same root letters are used, but with a different connotation. “Answer,” which frames the first section, is the same root as “the oppressed” (verse 25, second section); and “proclaim,” which frames the second section, is the same root as “count” (verse 18, first section). Using the same root letters with different connotation, the poet is reflecting both the separation and the unity. (b) In fact, the two halves use an identical term to emphasize the contradiction. In verse 7, the speaker is “scorned”; in verse 25, God does not “scorn”! (c) Even when using different words, the poet in the second half clearly mocks (not just contradicts) the first half with the following phrase: “He (God) does not hide his face from him; when he cries out to Him, He listens” (25). (d) Further, the Hebrew uses the root “praise” four times in the last section, thus defining the obscure verse 4 of the first section, “But You are the Holy One, enthroned on the praises of Israel.” [Within the first half, verse 4 seemed out of place―not only by content, but also in its non-poetic form. In retrospect, it was the first hint of messages to come. Verses 2–4 thus can be seen as an introduction to the two sections: verses 2–3 to the first section, the lament, and verse 4 to the second section, the praise.] The poem is woven as a single fabric.

Of course, most terms had to be different given the radical difference of the sections. Part of the power of this psalm is built on the total contrast of the two sections.

Different Worlds of Discourse

How much ink has flowed in the effort to find the context in which these two sections could fit together! The range of suggestions runs from changes of time, to changes of circumstance, to changes of affect, and the debate continues endlessly as to whether the psalm is basically a lament or an affirmation.

Evidently, we have been blinded by assumptions about the poet (or to be more precise, about the speaker). In the poem itself, the speaker tells us precisely what the difference is between the first and second sections.

“I will proclaim Your reputation to my brothers” begins the second section (23). The second section is the public proclamation by the same individual whom we have overheard privately praying bitterly to God in verses 1–22! What we find in Psalm 22 is not change, but the irreconcilable difference between the suffering and incomprehension of an individual leader, on the one hand, and the message he offers his people, on the other. The tragedy of circumstance in the first section is matched by the tragedy of role and position in the second.

I hasten to add that I do not suggest that the second section is deception or falsehood. Life is much more complicated than that. Both in the public message itself and in the fact that the speaker is offering an extended prayer to God, there is a deep reflection that somewhere inside he does believe everything he says in the second section. Is it a noble instinct or a lack of courage that keeps him from bringing his pain into the public sphere? Is the evident non-influence of the first section on the second an achievement or a failure? I must confess that the depth of the pain in the former makes me feel awkward at even raising a question of evaluation. Who am I, the reader, to ask? In any case, these clearly are questions beyond the scope of the poem, but not outside the realm of discourse to which the poet has led the reader. As noted, it is a powerful picture: troublesome, challenging, and rewarding.

The reader, of course, cannot maintain his or her distance. If the speaker bore one burden in his heart but shared a different message with others, the reader will also be led to self questioning.

This poet dared, in his imagery, technique, and message, to loose many bonds. We are all the richer for that.

* * * * * * * * * *

Additional Notes

Many commentators seek to determine the specific nature and cause of the speaker’s pain. I note again that when the author does not reveal the same, and we are best advised to accept that as his intent.

There is much guessing as to the implication of the opening title, which I did not translate (“meaning uncertain”). One could survey theories, but in the end the uncertainty would remain. Readers are referred to the various commentaries, with the caveat that all proposals remain tenuous.

As is well known, Jesus cited (all, or perhaps just the first line of) this psalm on the cross (Mark 15:34). Christian tradition finds in the psalm a reflection of his life and message. (It is the most quoted psalm in the New Testament.) Jewish tradition attaches this poem to the holiday of Purim (the Book of Esther). It is of course legitimate in the course of history to apply any psalm to a circumstance. We recall, however, that these applications postdate the original psalm and its intent.


The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.

HEBREW TEXT
 
א לַמְנַצֵּחַ עַל-אַיֶּלֶת הַשַּׁחַר מִזְמוֹר לְדָוִד


ב אֵלִי אֵלִי לָמָה עֲזַבְתָּנִי רָחוֹק מִישׁוּעָתִי דִּבְרֵי שַׁאֲגָתִי

ג אֱלֹהַי אֶקְרָא יוֹמָם וְלֹא תַעֲנֶה וְלַיְלָה וְלֹא-דֻמִיָּה לִי

ד וְאַתָּה קָדוֹשׁ יוֹשֵׁב תְּהִלּוֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל

ה בְּךָ בָּטְחוּ אֲבֹתֵינוּ בָּטְחוּ וַתְּפַלְּטֵמו

ו אֵלֶיךָ זָעֲקוּ וְנִמְלָטוּ בְּךָ בָטְחוּ וְלֹא-בוֹשׁוּ

ז וְאָנֹכִי תוֹלַעַת וְלֹא-אִישׁ חֶרְפַּת אָדָם וּבְזוּי עָם

ח כָּל-רֹאַי יַלְעִגוּ לִי יַפְטִירוּ בְשָׂפָה יָנִיעוּ רֹאשׁ

ט גֹּל אֶל-יְהוָה יְפַלְּטֵהוּ יַצִּילֵהוּ כִּי חָפֵץ בּוֹ

י כִּי-אַתָּה גֹחִי מִבָּטֶן מַבְטִיחִי עַל-שְׁדֵי אִמִּי

יא עָלֶיךָ הָשְׁלַכְתִּי מֵרָחֶם מִבֶּטֶן אִמִּי אֵלִי אָתָּה

יב אַל-תִּרְחַק מִמֶּנִּי כִּי-צָרָה קְרוֹבָה כִּי-אֵין עוֹזֵר

יג סְבָבוּנִי פָּרִים רַבִּים אַבִּירֵי בָשָׁן כִּתְּרוּנִי

יד פָּצוּ עָלַי פִּיהֶם אַרְיֵה טֹרֵף וְשֹׁאֵג

טו כַּמַּיִם נִשְׁפַּכְתִּי וְהִתְפָּרְדוּ כָּל-עַצְמוֹתָי הָיָה לִבִּי כַּדּוֹנָג נָמֵס בְּתוֹךְ מֵעָי

טז יָבֵשׁ כַּחֶרֶשׂ כֹּחִי וּלְשׁוֹנִי מֻדְבָּק מַלְקוֹחָי וְלַעֲפַר-מָוֶת תִּשְׁפְּתֵנִי

יז כִּי סְבָבוּנִי כְּלָבִים עֲדַת מְרֵעִים הִקִּיפוּנִי כָּאֲרִי יָדַי וְרַגְלָי

יח אֲסַפֵּר כָּל-עַצְמוֹתָי הֵמָּה יַבִּיטוּ יִרְאוּ-בִי

יט יְחַלְּקוּ בְגָדַי לָהֶם וְעַל-לְבוּשִׁי יַפִּילוּ גוֹרָל

כ וְאַתָּה יְהוָה אַל-תִּרְחָק אֱיָלוּתִי לְעֶזְרָתִי חוּשָׁה

כא הַצִּילָה מֵחֶרֶב נַפְשִׁי מִיַּד-כֶּלֶב יְחִידָתִי

כב הוֹשִׁיעֵנִי מִפִּי אַרְיֵה וּמִקַּרְנֵי רֵמִים עֲנִיתָנִי

כג אֲסַפְּרָה שִׁמְךָ לְאֶחָי בְּתוֹךְ קָהָל אֲהַלְלֶךָּ

כד יִרְאֵי יְהוָה הַלְלוּהוּ כָּל-זֶרַע יַעֲקֹב כַּבְּדוּהוּ וְגוּרוּ מִמֶּנּוּ כָּל-זֶרַע יִשְׂרָאֵל

כה כִּי לֹא-בָזָה וְלֹא שִׁקַּץ עֱנוּת עָנִי וְלֹא-הִסְתִּיר פָּנָיו מִמֶּנּוּ וּבְשַׁוְּעוֹ אֵלָיו שָׁמֵעַ

כו מֵאִתְּךָ תְּהִלָּתִי בְּקָהָל רָב נְדָרַי אֲשַׁלֵּם נֶגֶד יְרֵאָיו

כז יֹאכְלוּ עֲנָוִים וְיִשְׂבָּעוּ יְהַלְלוּ יְהוָה דֹּרְשָׁיו יְחִי לְבַבְכֶם לָעַד

כח יִזְכְּרוּ וְיָשֻׁבוּ אֶל-יְהוָה כָּל-אַפְסֵי-אָרֶץ וְיִשְׁתַּחֲווּ לְפָנֶיךָ כָּל-מִשְׁפְּחוֹת גּוֹיִם

כט כִּי לַיהוָה הַמְּלוּכָה וּמֹשֵׁל בַּגּוֹיִם

ל אָכְלוּ וַיִּשְׁתַּחֲווּ כָּל-דִּשְׁנֵי-אֶרֶץ לְפָנָיו יִכְרְעוּ כָּל-יוֹרְדֵי עָפָר

וְנַפְשׁוֹ לֹא חִיָּה

לא זֶרַע יַעַבְדֶנּוּ יְסֻפַּר לַאדֹנָי לַדּוֹר

לב יָבֹאוּ וְיַגִּידוּ צִדְקָתוֹ לְעַם נוֹלָד כִּי עָשָׂה