Psalm 30 - Choosing to Praise

TEXT (Hebrew text at end)

1. A psalm of David. A song for the dedication of the House.1

2. I exalt You, O LORD, for you have drawn me up, and not let my enemies rejoice over me.
3. O LORD, my God, I cried out to You, and You healed me.
4. O LORD, You brought me up from Sheol, kept me alive, [kept] me from descending into the Pit.
5. Sing to Him, O you faithful of the LORD, and praise His holy name.
6. For His anger is for but a moment, but His pleasure is for a lifetime. Weeping may lie down at nightfall, but at dawn—shouts of joy.
7. I, when untroubled, said, “I shall not ever be shaken.”
8. O LORD, when You were pleased, You made me stand strong as a mighty mountain. When You hid Your face, I was terrified.
9. I call to You, LORD; to my Lord I beg for mercy,
10. “What profit is there in my death,2 from my descent into the Deep? Can dust praise You? Can it proclaim Your faithfulness?
11. Hear, O LORD, and have mercy on me; O LORD, be my helper!”
12. You turned my mourning into dancing, You undid my sackcloth and girded me with rejoicing,
13. that [my] glory3 might sing hymns to You endlessly; O LORD, my God, I will ever praise You.

Notes
1. i.e., the Temple
2. Lit., “blood”
3. i.e., “I.” One emendation, based on one Greek version, would read “my liver,” meaning in current terminology, “my heart.” Another slight emendation would read "my glory," i.e., my being or soul. Unaltered, the text is awkward, and I have added [as NJPS] an assumed "my."

COMMENTARY

Introduction

There are at least two negative assessments of the speaker of Psalm 30, which reflects the odyssey of one who was naively optimistic, passed through a life-threatening experience and emerged well. On one hand, this could be a critique of the knee-jerk piety of the speaker, who here typifies those willing to make statements such as “Thank God” in light of a tragedy that did not end in something worse. On the other hand, it could depict one whose level of religiosity is a simple reflection of what happens to him―if God is good to Him, then he praises God. Neither of these readings, it seems to me, takes note of the careful literary structure of the Psalm, which reveals a speaker worthy of admiration and emulation.

I begin with the last sentence. Psalm 30 ends “O LORD my God I will forever praise You.” Read out of context, this would seem to be an expression of direct, unadulterated piety. In context, the phrase reflects a significant achievement, a living example of the power of determination.

The poet reaches that point through a tight integration of form and content. Three structural elements stand out: a chiasm, repetitions, and a use of sharp contrasts. I first explore each of these separately and then try to understand the speaker’s underlying contention, which leads to the last verse. Following that, I extend beyond the Bible, citing three uses of the psalm which reflect its proper understanding. I then add comments on two other imaginative interpretations, which, while light years away from direct meaning, take the basic message of the psalm one step further.

Chiasm

Psalm 30 includes a number of root and word repetitions. Some of these may be isolated as a grand chiasmus (a pattern in which a second section is balanced against a first with the parts reversed; schematically, ABCCBA, for example), as follows (I cite the terms used, then the verses in parentheses): song (1, 13), rejoice (2, 12), descending (4, 10), and pleased (6, 8). In an article, David Hakatan added two additional parallel themes (not words) to create a more detailed chiasmus: calling out to God (3, 11) and prayer (5, 9). However many parts one accepts in the chiasmus, verse 7 is clearly highlighted as the unparalleled center around which all revolves: “I, when untroubled, said, ‘I shall not ever be shaken.’”

Any review of the content, however, reveals that this center is not the essential message of the psalm. The poet evidently wished to highlight it nevertheless, as the speaker’s “point of departure.” He once saw himself as invulnerable to harm and/or to the sin that would bring punishment. The reader is immediately challenged to consider whether he or she has ever felt that way. (The exceptional nature of verse 7 is reflected in the contrast to the next verse. Verse 7 begins with “I,” as the naiveté of the speaker dominates; verse 8 begins with “LORD,” and His control dominates.)

Repetitions

There are a number of repetitions in Psalm 30, emphasized in the final verse. Counting the last word in verse 12, there are fully five root or word repetitions at the end, with a sixth that is a sound repetition. Here the poet rounds out his message:

(a) “I will… praise You”: His previous request that others "praise" God (verse 5) is now internalized, as he undertakes to praise (and forever).

(b) “Ever”: Previously he thought he could not “ever” fall (verse 7), whereas now the “ever” becomes his determination to give thanks.

(c) “LORD, my God”: Earlier (verse 3) a call for help, this is now part of his thanksgiving.

(d) “Rejoicing”: Before it was sufficient that his enemies were not able to rejoice (verse 2), but now he is girded in rejoicing.

(e) (Sound pun): He previously noted there was no value in his death, the flow of his “blood” (dam) (verse 10). He now will praise God endlessly, “unceasingly” (yidom).

(f) Finally, one term recalls the poem’s beginning: now the speaker is determined to “sing,” and indeed the poem itself is one such “song” (verse 1)

These repetitions, then, come to balance the emphasis of the chiasm, which centers on where the speaker “had been.” The repetitions focus on the point that he has reached. There is indeed a world of difference between the somewhat naïve thought of the “invulnerable” happy fellow (chiasm center, verse 7) and the happiness of the person praising God forever in verse 13. They are the extremes.

Much has happened between the two end points. That history is told throughout the psalm, and it is told (as befits the extremes of different kinds of happiness) by way of a third literary technique—the use of sharp contrasts.

(There is one exception to the frequent, nearly constant, use of repetitions. In referring to death or near-death, the poet makes use of a variety of terms―”Sheol,” “Pit,” “death,” “deep,” and “dust.” I return to this exception below.)

Sharp Contrasts

The speaker sets the tone of contrasting physical points and movement between them from the inception of the poem: “I exalt You [literally, declare and create your loftiness], O LORD, for you have drawn me up.” The second verb is used for drawing water from a well. One senses a grand movement of balance―man looking up, praising and elevating God, Who pulls him from the deep. Such contrasts dominate the poem. Verses 6, 8, and 12 are built upon opposites. Verse 6 includes the following contrasts: a moment–a lifetime; night–dawn; angry–pleased; and weeping–joy. In verse 8 we have: You were pleased–hid Your face and strong as a mountain–terrified. The extremes reach their zenith in verse 12: mourning becomes dancing and sackcloth is replaced with joy. As every mourner knows, the description within one sentence is unreal, even granted the hyperbole of the metaphor. One simply does not get up from mourning and go dancing. (Indeed, in traditional Jewish circles, dancing is forbidden even after the week of mourning is over.) Sackcloth does not easily give way to joy.

The speaker thus effectively depicts a personal history of extremes―starting from naïve self-assurance, on to a tragic and life-threatening fall (recall the plethora of terms for death, noted above), to urgent and desperate prayer, to rescue, and finally to a totally new outlook on life. These are not presented chronologically, beginning to end, but all from his present perspective (first and last verses), with recollections of where he once "was."

The reader has much to contemplate in terms of this description: how much that naiveté is there in one’s (the reader’s) own life (we are, after all, raised as children whose parents seek to shield us from trouble), whether such ups and downs have marked our lives, and so forth. However, the greatest challenge comes in considering the speaker and his final disposition. The speaker of Psalm 30 chooses, in the end, to see the good rather than the bad. Presumably he understands that the wheel may turn again, for he has abandoned his initial naiveté. Here is a person who was near death (and who certainly senses that troubles may return), but has committed himself to a life of thanksgiving.

The speaker is an individual who had put himself in the center of things (and indeed he is the focus of practically the entire psalm), but has come to a new beginning-and-end (as is the case at the beginning and the end of the psalm); namely, God is the focus. Here is the conviction that good, not bad, is the essence of life, a statement of determined orientation achieved by the speaker after long experience, specifically experience with near-death. He advises his audience to join him (in the only two verses not addressed to God, verses 5 and 6). This is not a question of faith, blind or otherwise, but a determination to focus on the good and to find God therein, despite other experiences.

I stand awestruck at the speaker. Can anyone achieve such strength? Perhaps. Do I know anyone who, in honest declaration of such thanksgiving following tragedy, helps create for himself and others a world that is tilted toward the side of the good? Yes―there are such people. But they are few and far between, and the deeper question that remains is whether I, the reader, am one such.

Three Historical Moments

I note three widely separated Jewish historical developments that can be better understood when the core meaning of Psalm 30 is perceived: the attribution of the psalm to King David, the assignment of this psalm as liturgy for the holiday of Hanukkah, and the designation of Psalm 30 to be the first recited in daily prayer. (I do not proceed in chronological order.)

(a) The decision to read this psalm as part of the Hanukkah liturgy is first noted in the (eighth century CE) Talmudic minor tractate Sofrim (18:2). The connection between Psalm 30 and Hanukkah is obvious to the Hebrew reader (the word “dedication” in verse 1 is in fact “Hanukkah”) Nevertheless, the decision is surprising, for Hanukkah celebrates the cleansing of the Second Temple in 165 BCE, which was subsequently destroyed (70 CE). The Temple had been destroyed for centuries, but rather than only wallowing in that tragedy, the psalm is chosen for the occasion, a reconfirmation of the religious orientation of the psalm itself—to look primarily at the good in the world.

(b) Similarly, we might now better understand why some insightful soul suggested that this psalm be the first read every morning, a practice dating back to the eighteenth century and almost universally accepted in Judaism. Are there any questions more appropriate to reconsider daily than whether the world really is primarily good and whether one can help make it so through our praise?

© In fact, someone (possibly the poet) made the point in an even more extreme way in his original attribution of the psalm to David. Surely it is remarkable that this psalm of “dedication of the House” (verse 1) is attributed to the very king who was prevented from building the Temple! While most of the first Book of Psalms is attributed to David, this reference is striking by any criterion. How could David have written for the occasion? Across the 2000 years of tradition, some suggested answers dwell on his writing for what he “knew” would happen and some rest on theological considerations―God gives full credit for intentions, or for first steps. (David did bring the Ark to Jerusalem.) I suggest that the answer is more radical. In attributing the psalm to David, the poem has the speaker (now David) essentially thanking God for good he does not, and will never, see himself. It is the central message of the psalm, taken to a new extreme!

* * * * * * * * *

Additional Notes: Later Interpreters

1. Across the centuries, several commentators have read this psalm in a manner similar to that described above. I cite two: Kimchi (12th–13th century), “For the good He does is greater than His punishments,” and Rav Kook (20th century), “Good and kindness are the established and victorious bases of life. To the extent that we encounter evil, anger, or rage appearing in this world, they are passing phenomena when compared to the good; they are the exceptions, which exist only in order to establish the good, to make it deeper and broader” (Olat Hara’aya, Hebrew, on verse 6).

2. A number of fanciful late Hasidic interpretations colorfully reinterpret “Who has drawn me up” (from the root dlh) to “Who has made me impoverished” (associated with the root dll), the message being that impoverishment serves to let us appreciate the good. Far from a possible direct meaning, the interpretation nevertheless takes the tone of the psalm one step further, now even appreciating the bad as part of the good.

3. A similar fanciful late interpretation relates the same word “drawn me up” to the Hebrew for door (dlt), thanking God for making the speaker a gateway to faith for others. Again, while this could not be the meaning of the text, it reflects most precisely how the psalm functions as part of the liturgy.

Additional Notes: Phrases

1. The idea that the dead do not praise God is found throughout the Bible. See Pss. 6:6; 88:11, 12; Is. 38:18; et al.

2. For the relation of sleep to death, note Psalm 13:14 and the Talmudic phrase, “Sleep is a 1/60 reflection of death,” Berachot 57b.

3. The poet uses word plays. Apart from "blood" and "unceasing" (dam/yidom), noted above, he echoes the sound "z-r" in the last three verses ("helper, 'ozer; girded me, ta-azreni; sing yizamercha), and echoes LORD (derived from the root "to be") in verse 11 ("LORD, be").

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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 שִׁיר-חֲנֻכַּת הַבַּיִת לְדָוִד

ב אֲרוֹמִמְךָ יְהוָה כִּי דִלִּיתָנִי וְלֹא-שִׂמַּחְתָּ אֹיְבַי לִי

ג יְהוָה אֱלֹהָי שִׁוַּעְתִּי אֵלֶיךָ וַתִּרְפָּאֵנִי

ד יְהוָה הֶעֱלִיתָ מִן-שְׁאוֹל נַפְשִׁי חִיִּיתַנִי מיורדי- (מִיָּרְדִי-) בוֹר

ה זַמְּרוּ לַיהוָה חֲסִידָיו וְהוֹדוּ לְזֵכֶר קָדְשׁוֹ

ו כִּי רֶגַע, בְּאַפּוֹ חַיִּים בִּרְצוֹנוֹ בָּעֶרֶב יָלִין בֶּכִי וְלַבֹּקֶר רִנָּה

ז וַאֲנִי אָמַרְתִּי בְשַׁלְוִי בַּל-אֶמּוֹט לְעוֹלָם

ח יְהוָה בִּרְצוֹנְךָ הֶעֱמַדְתָּה לְהַרְרִי-עֹז הִסְתַּרְתָּ פָנֶיךָ הָיִיתִי נִבְהָל

ט אֵלֶיךָ יְהוָה אֶקְרָא וְאֶל-אֲדֹנָי אֶתְחַנָּן

י מַה-בֶּצַע בְּדָמִי בְּרִדְתִּי אֶל-שָׁחַת הֲיוֹדְךָ עָפָר הֲיַגִּיד אֲמִתֶּךָ

יא שְׁמַע-יְהוָה וְחָנֵּנִי יְהוָה, הֱיֵה-עֹזֵר לִי

יב הָפַכְתָּ מִסְפְּדִי לְמָחוֹל לִי פִּתַּחְתָּ שַׂקִּי וַתְּאַזְּרֵנִי שִׂמְחָה

יג לְמַעַן יְזַמֶּרְךָ כָבוֹד וְלֹא יִדֹּם יְהוָה אֱלֹהַי לְעוֹלָם אוֹדֶךָּ