1. Psalm 1: The Psalter’s Double Prelude
Alexander Maclaren, The Expositor’s Bible: The Psalms (1892–94), on Psalm 1. Assigned selection: Maclaren’s commentary and the Psalm in his own English rendering. The interpretations are the author’s.
The Psalter may be regarded as the heart's echo to the speech of God, the manifold music of its wind-swept strings as God's breath sweeps across them. Law and Prophecy are the two main elements of that speech, and the first two psalms, as a double prelude to the book, answer to these, the former setting forth the blessedness of loving and keeping the law, and the latter celebrating the enthronement of Messiah. Its theme, the blessedness of keeping the law, is enforced by the juxtaposition of two sharply contrasted pictures, one in bright light, another in deep shadow, and each heightening the other. Ebal and Gerizim face one another. The character and fate of the lover of the law are sketched in verses 1–3, and that of the wicked in verses 4–6. “How abundantly is that word Blessed multiplied in the Book of Psalms! The book seems to be made out of that word, and the foundation raised upon that word, for it is the first word of the book. But in all the book there is not one Woe” (Donne).
It is usually taken as an exclamation, but may equally well be a simple affirmation, and declares a universal truth even more strongly, if so regarded. The characteristics which thus bring blessedness are first described negatively, and that order is significant. As long as there is so much evil in the world, and society is what it is, godliness must be largely negative, and its possessors “a people whose laws are different from all people that be on earth.” Live fish swim against the stream; dead ones go with it.
The tender graces of the devout soul will not flourish unless there be a wall of close-knit and unparticipating opposition round them, to keep off nipping blasts. The negative clauses present a climax, notwithstanding the unquestionable correctness of one of the grounds on which that has been denied—namely, the practical equivalence of “wicked” and “sinner.”
Increasing closeness and permanence of association are obvious in the progress from walking to standing and from standing to sitting. Increasing boldness in evil is marked by the progress from counsel to way, or course of life, and thence to scoffing. Evil purposes come out in deeds, and deeds are formularised at last in bitter speech. Some men scoff because they have already sinned. The tongue is blackened and made sore by poison in the system. Therefore goodness will avoid the smallest conformity with evil, as knowing that if the hem of the dress or the tips of the hair be caught in the cruel wheels, the whole body will be drawn in. But these negative characteristics are valuable mainly for their efficacy in contributing to the positive, as the wall round a young plantation is there for the sake of what grows behind it. On the other hand, these positive characteristics, and eminently that chief one of a higher love, are the only basis for useful abstinence. Mere conventional, negative virtue is of little power or worth unless it flow from a strong set of the soul in another direction.
“So did not I” is good and noble when we can go on to say, as Nehemiah did, “because of the fear of God.” The true way of floating rubbish out is to pour water in. Delight in the law will deliver from delight in the counsel of the wicked. As the negative, so the positive begins with the inward man. The main thing about all men is the direction of their “delight.” Where do tastes run? what pleases them most? and where are they most at ease? Deeds will follow the current of desires, and be right if the hidden man of the heart be right. To the psalmist, that law was revealed by Pentateuch and prophets; but the delight in it, in which he recognises the germ of godliness, is the coincidence of will and inclination with the declared will of God, however declared. In effect, he reduces perfection to the same elements as the other psalmist who sang, “I delight to do Thy will, yea, Thy law is within my heart.” The secret of blessedness is self-renunciation,—“A love to lose my will in His, / And by that loss be free.”
Thoughts which are sweet will be familiar. The command to Joshua is the instinct of the devout man. In the distractions and activities of the busy day the law beloved will be with him, illuminating his path and shaping his acts. In hours of rest it will solace weariness and renew strength. That habit of patient, protracted brooding on the revelation of God's will needs to be cultivated. Men live meanly because they live so fast. Religion lacks depth and volume because it is not fed by hidden springs.
Psalm text (1:1–6, Maclaren's English rendering)
Happy the man who has not walked in the counsel of the wicked, and has not stood in the way of sinners, and in the session of scorners has not sat. But in the law of Jehovah is his delight, and in His law he meditates day and night. And he is like a tree planted by the runnels of water, which yields its fruit in its season, and whose leafage does not fade, and all which he does he prosperously accomplishes. Not so are the wicked, but like chaff which the wind drives away. Therefore the wicked shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous. For Jehovah knows the righteous, and the way of the wicked shall perish.
2. Psalm 23: Personal Trust
Alexander Maclaren, The Expositor’s Bible: The Psalms (1892–94), on Psalm 23. Assigned selection: Maclaren’s commentary and the Psalm in his own English rendering. The interpretations are the author’s.
The world could spare many a large book better than this sunny little psalm. It has dried many tears and supplied the mould into which many hearts have poured their peaceful faith. To suppose that the speaker is the personified nation chills the whole. The tone is too intense not to be the outcome of personal experience, however admissible the application to the nation may be as secondary. No doubt Jehovah is the Shepherd of Israel in several Asaphite psalms and in Jeremiah; but, notwithstanding great authorities, I cannot persuade myself that the voice which comes so straight to the heart did not come from the heart of a brother speaking across the centuries his own personal emotions, which are universal just because they are individual. It is the pure utterance of personal trust in Jehovah, darkened by no fears or complaints and so perfectly at rest that it has nothing more to ask. For the time desire is stilled in satisfaction. One tone, and that the most blessed which can sound in a life, is heard through the whole. It is the psalm of quiet trust, undisturbed even by its joy, which is quiet too. The fire glows, but does not flame or crackle.
The one thought is expanded in two kindred images: that of the shepherd and that of the host. The same ideas are substantially repeated under both forms. The lovely series of vivid pictures, each but a clause long, but clear-cut in that small compass, like the fine work incised on a gem, combines with the depth and simplicity of the religious emotion expressed, to lay this sweet psalm on all hearts.
Verses 1–4 present the realities of the devout life under the image of the Divine Shepherd and His lamb.
The comparison of rulers to shepherds is familiar to many tongues, and could scarcely fail to occur to a pastoral people like the Jews, nor is the application to Jehovah's relation to the people so recondite that we need to relegate the psalms in which it occurs to a late era in the national history. The psalmist lovingly lingers on the image, and draws out the various aspects of the shepherd's care and of the flock's travels, with a ripeness and calmness which suggests that we listen to a much-experienced man. The sequence in which the successive pictures occur is noteworthy. Guidance to refreshment comes first, and is described in verse 2, in words which fall as softly as the gentle streams of which they speak. The noontide is fierce, and the land lies baking in the sun-blaze; but deep down in some wady runs a brook, and along its course the herbage is bright with perpetual moisture, and among the lush grass are cool lairs where the footsore, panting flock may couch. The shepherd's tenderness is beautifully hinted at in the two verbs: he “leads,” not drives, but in Eastern wise precedes and so draws the trustful sheep; he “makes me to lie down,” taking care that the sheep shall stretch weary limbs in full enjoyment of repose. God thus guides to rest and lays to rest the soul that follows Him.
Why does the psalmist begin with this aspect of life? Because it is fittest to express the shepherd's care, and because it is, after all, the predominant aspect to the devout heart. Life is full of trial and effort, but it is an unusually rainy region where rain falls on more than half the days of the year. We live so much more vividly and fully in the moments of agony or crisis that they seem to fill more space than they really do. But they are only moments, and the periods of continued peaceful possession of blessings are measured by years. But the sweet words of the psalm are not to be confined to material good. The psalmist does not tell us whether he is thinking more of the outer or of the inner life, but both are in his mind, and while his confidence is only partially warranted by the facts of the former, it is unlimitedly true in regard to the latter. In that application of the words the significance of the priority given to the pastures of fresh springing grass and the waters of repose is plain, for there the rest of trust and the drinking of living water must precede all walking in paths of righteousness.
Psalm text (23:1–6, Maclaren's English rendering)
Jehovah is my Shepherd; I do not want. In pastures of fresh grass He leads me; by waters of rest He makes me lie. My soul He refreshes; He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Even if I walk in a gorge of gloom, I fear not evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff—they comfort me. Thou spreadest before me a table in presence of my foes; Thou anointest with oil my head: my cup is overfulness. Only good and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and my dwelling shall be in the house of Jehovah for length of days.
3. Psalm 51: The Prayer for Cleansing
Alexander Maclaren, The Expositor’s Bible: The Psalms (1892–94), on Psalm 51. Assigned selection: Maclaren’s commentary and the Psalm in his own English rendering. The interpretations are the author’s.
In verses 1–9 the psalmist's cry is chiefly for pardon; in verses 10–12 he prays chiefly for purity; in verses 13–17 he vows grateful service.
The petitions of verses 1, 2, teach us how the psalmist thought of sin. They are all substantially the same, and their repetition discloses the depth of longing in the suppliant. The language fluctuates between plural and singular nouns, designating the evil as “transgressions” and as “iniquity” and “sin.” The psalmist regards it, first, as a multitude of separate acts, then as all gathered together into a grim unity. The single deeds of wrong-doing pass before him. But these have a common root; and we must not only recognise acts, but that alienation of heart from which they come—not only sin as it comes out in the life, but as it is coiled round our hearts. Sins are the manifestations of sin.
These petitions show also how the psalmist thought of forgiveness. As the words for sin give a threefold view of it, so those for pardon set it forth in three aspects. “Blot out”;—that petition conceives of forgiveness as being the erasure of a writing, perhaps of an indictment. Our past is a blurred manuscript, full of false and bad things. The melancholy theory of some thinkers is summed up in the despairing words, “What I have written, I have written.” But the psalmist knew better than that; and we should know better than he did. Our souls may become palimpsests; and, as devotional meditations might be written by a saint on a parchment that had borne foul legends of false gods, the bad writing on them may be obliterated, and God's law be written there. “Wash me thoroughly” needs no explanation. But the word employed is significant, in that it probably means washing by kneading or beating, not by simple rinsing. The psalmist is ready to submit to any painful discipline, if only he may be cleansed. “Wash me, beat me, tread me down, hammer me with mallets, dash me against stones, do anything with me, if only these foul stains are melted from the texture of my soul.” The psalmist had not heard of the alchemy by which men can “wash their robes and make them white in the blood of the Lamb”; but he held fast by God's “loving-kindness,” and knew the blackness of his own sin, and groaned under it; and therefore his cry was not in vain. An anticipation of the Christian teaching as to forgiveness lies in his last expression for pardon, “make me clean,” which is the technical word for the priestly act of declaring ceremonial purity, and for the other priestly act of making as well as declaring clean from the stains of leprosy. The suppliant thinks of his guilt not only as a blotted record or as a polluted robe, but as a fatal disease, the “first-born of death,” and as capable of being taken away only by the hand of the Priest laid on the feculent mass. We know who put out his hand and touched the leper, and said, “I will: be thou clean.”
The second principal division begins with verse 10, and is a prayer for purity, followed by vows of glad service. The prayer is contained in three verses (10–12), of which the first implores complete renewal of nature, the second beseeches that there may be no break between the suppliant and God, and the third asks for the joy and willingness to serve which would flow from the granting of the desires preceding. In each verse the second clause has “spirit” for its leading word, and the middle one of the three asks for “Thy holy spirit.” The petitions themselves, and the order in which they occur, are deeply significant, and deserve much more elucidation than can be given here. The same profound consciousness of inward corruption which spoke in the former part of the psalm shapes the prayer for renewal. Nothing less than a new creation will make this man's heart “clean.” His past has taught him that. The word employed is always used of God's creative act; and the psalmist feels that nothing less than the power which brooded over the face of primeval chaos, and evolved thence an ordered world, can deal with the confused ruin within himself. What he felt that he must have is what prophets promised (Jer. 24:7; Ezek. 36:26) and Christ has brought—a new creation, in which, while personality remains unaffected, and the components of character continue as before, a real new life is bestowed, which stamps new directions on affections, gives new aims, impulses, convictions, casts out inveterate evils, and gradually changes “all but the basis of the soul.” A desire for pardon which does not unfold into such longing for deliverance from the misery of the old self is not the offspring of genuine penitence, but only of base fear.
Psalm text (selected verses: 51:1–2, 6–8, 10–17, Maclaren's English rendering)
Be gracious to me, O God, according to Thy loving-kindness: according to the greatness of Thy compassions blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and from my sin make me clean. Behold, Thou desirest truth in the inward parts: therefore in the hidden part make me to know wisdom. Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones Thou hast crushed may exult. A clean heart create for me, O God; and a steadfast spirit renew within me. Cast me not out from Thy presence; and Thy holy spirit take not from me. Restore to me the joy of Thy salvation: and with a willing spirit uphold me. Then will I teach transgressors Thy ways; and sinners shall return to Thee. Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation; and my tongue shall joyfully sing Thy righteousness. Lord, open my lips; and my mouth shall declare Thy praise. For Thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: in burnt offering Thou hast no pleasure. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a heart broken and crushed, O God, Thou wilt not despise.
4. Psalm 22: Lament Turns toward Praise
Alexander Maclaren, The Expositor’s Bible: The Psalms (1892–94), on Psalm 22. Assigned selection: Maclaren’s commentary and verses of the Psalm in his own English rendering. The interpretations are the author’s.
Not only does our Lord quote the first verse on the cross, and so show that the psalm was in his heart then, but the gestures and words of mockery were verbally reproduced, as Luke significantly indicates by using the LXX's word for “laugh to scorn” (verse 7). Christ's thirst is regarded by John as the fulfilment of “scripture,” which can scarcely be other than verse 15. The physical effects of crucifixion are described in the ghastly picture of verses 14, 15. Whatever difficulty exists in determining the true reading and meaning of the allusion to “my hands and my feet,” some violence or indignity to them is intended. The peculiar detail of dividing the raiment was more than fulfilled, since the apparently parallel and synonymous clauses were resolved into two distinct acts. But that these minute and numerous correspondences are more than coincidences, it seems perverse to deny. The present writer, for one, sees shining through the shadowy personality of the psalmist the figure of the Prince of Sufferers, and believes that whether the former's plaints applied in all their particulars to him, or whether there is in them a certain “element of hyperbole” which becomes simple fact in Jesus' sufferings, the psalm is a prophecy of Him and them. In the former case the psalmist's experience, in the latter case his utterances, were divinely shaped so as to prefigure the sacred sorrows of the Man of Sorrows.
To a reader who shares in this understanding of the psalm, it must be holy ground, to be trodden reverently and with thoughts adoringly fixed on Jesus. Cold analysis is out of place. And yet there is a distinct order even in the groans, and a manifest contrast in the two halves of the psalm (verses 1–21 and 22–31). “Thou answerest not” is the key-note of the former; “Thou hast answered me,” of the latter. The one paints the sufferings, the other the glory that should follow. Both point to Jesus: the former by the desolation which it breathes; the latter by the world-wide consequences of these solitary sufferings which it foresees.
Surely opposites were never more startlingly blended in one gush of feeling than in that plaint of mingled faith and despair, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” which by its thus addressing God clings fast to Him, and by its wondering question discloses the dreary consciousness of separation from Him. The evidence to the psalmist that he was forsaken was the apparent rejection of his prayers for deliverance; and if David be the speaker, we may suppose that the pathetic fate of his predecessor hovered before his thoughts: “I am sore distressed ... God is departed from me and answereth me no more.” But, while lower degrees of this conflict of trust and despair belong to all deep religious life, and are experienced by saintly sufferers in all ages, the voice that rang through the darkness on Calvary was the cry of Him who experienced its force in supreme measure and in altogether unique manner. None but He can ask that question “Why?” with conscience void of offence. None but He have known the mortal agony of utter separation from God. None but He have clung to God with absolute trust even in the horror of great darkness. In Christ's consciousness of being forsaken by God lie elements peculiar to it alone, for the separating agent was the gathered sins of the whole world, laid on Him and accepted by Him in the perfection of His loving identification of Himself with men. Unless in that dread hour He was bearing a world's sin, there is no worthy explanation of His cry, and many a silent martyr has faced death for Him with more courage derived from Him than He manifested on His cross.
The consequences of the psalmist's deliverance are described in the last part (verses 22–31) in language so wide that it is hard to suppose that any man could think his personal experiences so important and far-reaching. The whole congregation of Israel are to share in his thanksgiving and to learn more of God's name through him (verses 22–26). Nor does that bound his anticipations, for they traverse the whole world and embrace all lands and ages, and contemplate that the story of his sufferings and triumph will prove a true gospel, bringing every country and generation to remember and turn to Jehovah. The exuberant language becomes but one mouth. Such consequences, so wide-spread and agelong, can follow from the story of but one life. If the sorrows of the preceding part can only be a description of the passion, the glories of the second can only be a vision of the universal and eternal kingdom of Christ. It is a gospel before the Gospels and an Apocalypse before Revelations.
Psalm text (selected verses: 22:1, 3–8, 22, 24, 27–28, Maclaren's English rendering)
My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me? Yet Thou art Holy, throned upon the praises of Israel. In Thee our fathers trusted; they trusted and Thou deliveredst them. To Thee they cried and were delivered; in Thee they trusted and were not put to shame. But I am a worm, and not a man; a reproach of men and despised of people. All who see me mock at me; they draw open the lips, they nod the head. “Roll thy cares on Jehovah—let Him deliver him; let Him rescue him, for He delights in him.” I will declare Thy name to my brethren; in the midst of the congregation will I praise Thee. For He has not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted one, and has not hid His face from him; and when he cried He hearkened to him. All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to Jehovah; and all the families of the nations shall bow down before Thee. For the kingdom is Jehovah's.
5. Psalm 150: The Psalter’s Final Note
Alexander Maclaren, The Expositor’s Bible: The Psalms (1892–94), on Psalm 150. Assigned selection: Maclaren’s commentary and the Psalm in his own English rendering. The interpretations are the author’s.
This noble close of the Psalter rings out one clear note of praise, as the end of all the many moods and experiences recorded in its wonderful sighs and songs. Tears, groans, wailings for sin, meditations on the dark depths of Providence, fainting faith and foiled aspirations, all lead up to this. The psalm is more than an artistic close of the Psalter; it is a prophecy of the last result of the devout life, and, in its unclouded sunniness, as well as in its universality, it proclaims the certain end of the weary years for the individual and for the world. “Everything that hath breath” shall yet praise Jehovah. The psalm is evidently meant for liturgic use, and one may imagine that each instrument began to take part in the concert as it was named, till at last all blended in a mighty torrent of praiseful sound, to which the whirling dancers kept time. A strange contrast to modern notions of sobriety in worship!
The tenfold “Praise Him” has been often noticed as symbolic of completeness, but has probably no special significance.
In verse 1 the psalmist calls on earth and heaven to praise. The “sanctuary” may, indeed, be either the Temple or the heavenly palace of Jehovah, but it is more probable that the invocation, like so many others of a similar kind, is addressed to men and angels, than that the latter only are meant. They who stand in the earthly courts and they who circle the throne that is reared above the visible firmament are parts of a great whole, an antiphonal chorus. It becomes them to praise, for they each dwell in God's sanctuary.
The theme of praise is next touched in verse 2. “His mighty deeds” might be rendered “His heroic [or, valiant] acts.” The reference is to His deliverance of His people as a signal manifestation of prowess or conquering might. The tenderness which moved the power is not here in question, but the power cannot be worthily praised or understood, unless that Divine pity and graciousness of which it is the instrument are apprehended. Mighty acts, unsoftened by loving impulse and gracious purpose, would evoke awe, but not thanks. No praise is adequate to the abundance of His greatness, but yet He accepts such adoration as men can render.
The instruments named in verses 3–5 were not all used, so far as we know, in the Temple service. There is possibly an intention to go beyond those recognised as sacred, in order to emphasise the universality of praise. The horn was the curved “Shophar,” blown by the priests; “harp and psaltery were played by the Levites, timbrels were struck by women; and dancing, playing on stringed instruments and pipes and cymbals, were not reserved for the Levites. Consequently the summons to praise God is addressed to priests, Levites, and people” (Baethgen). In verse 4b “strings” means stringed instruments, and “pipe” is probably that used by shepherds, neither of which kinds of instrument elsewhere appears as employed in worship.
Too little is known of Jewish music to enable us to determine whether the epithets applied to cymbals refer to two different kinds. Probably they do; the first being small and high-pitched, the second larger, like the similar instrument used in military music, and of a deep tone.
But the singer would fain hear a volume of sound which should drown all that sweet tumult which he has evoked; and therefore he calls on “everything that has breath” to use it in sending forth a thunder-chorus of praise to Jehovah. The invocation bears the prophecy of its own fulfilment. These last strains of the long series of psalmists are as if that band of singers of Israel turned to the listening world, and gave into its keeping the harps which, under their own hands, had yielded such immortal music.
Few voices have obeyed the summons, and the vision of a world melodious with the praise of Jehovah and of Him alone appears to us, in our despondent moments, almost as far off as it was when the last psalmist ceased to sing. But his call is our confidence; and we know that the end of history shall be that to Him whose work is mightier than all the other mighty acts of Jehovah, “Every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
Psalm text (150:1–6, Maclaren's English rendering)
Hallelujah! Praise God in His sanctuary; praise Him in the firmament of His strength. Praise Him for His mighty deeds; praise Him according to the abundance of His greatness. Praise Him with blast of horn, with psaltery and harp. Praise Him with timbrel and dance, with strings and pipe. Praise Him with clear-sounding cymbals, with deep-toned cymbals. Let everything that has breath praise Jah. Hallelujah!