Key Text: The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me;

 

Can you recall a time of such negativity as we experience today? Conflicts of opinions and feelings surrounding politics, vaccinations, and mask-wearing have led to a pandemic of grouchiness. With increasing polarization leaving little middle ground, we find grumpy people at every turn, and sometimes in the mirror.

 

Grouchy attitudes can grow from a sense of self-importance when we put ourselves at the center of the world. When we’re crabby, it’s harder to be kind and caring to others.

 

How do we deal with a downward spiral of curmudgeonly thoughts and put ourselves on a more positive path? The road to wellness often begins with gratitude: when we stop to count our blessings, it’s easier to shift from cloudy complaints to sunnier days.

 

The author of Psalm 138 was a big believer in the power of praise. [DD]

 

 

 

The psalm presumes a time when a temple existed in Jerusalem, though it’s unclear whether it was Solomon’s temple or the more modest one built after the exile. [DD] The psalm is appealing in that we can pray it from our individual situation, or we can sing it together. It’s written in first person singular, but so are familiar hymns like “I Surrender All.” We pray from our own needs, but also in community.

 

“I give you thanks, O LORD,” the psalmist began, using the divine name Yahweh. The act of praise was not superficial, but “with my whole heart” (v. 1a).

 

Ancient Hebrews considered the heart as emblematic of the inner person, the real self as opposed to any outward appearances. The heart was the seat of thinking and decision making as well as emotions or passions. To praise God with one’s whole heart was to do so with one’s full being, thinking, love, and loyalty. [DD]

 

The next line may come as a surprise, as the psalmist added “before the gods I sing your praise” (v. 1b, NRSV). This is a reminder that for most of their history, the Hebrews were not monotheists. They assumed the reality of other gods, but believed they should worship Yahweh alone.

 

Even the first commandment doesn’t deny that other gods might exist. “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exod. 20:3) insists only that the Hebrews should worship Yahweh alone. A clear trend toward monotheism emerged later, with the eighth century prophets.

 

The word for “gods” could refer to other gods such as Baal and Asherah, but the NIV11 presumes that the psalmist spoke with tongue in cheek, translating it as “before the ‘gods’ I will sing your praise.”

 

It is also possible that the psalmist had in mind the heavenly court of celestial beings who served Yahweh, more commonly called the “sons of God” (see Job 1:1). Thus the NET translates “before the divine council,” and the MSG paraphrase has “Angels listen as I sing my thanks.” [DD]

 

In any case, the psalmist clearly believed that Yahweh was above all—which demands that we consider where our allegiance lies, and how many gods of our own making prevent us from offering whole-hearted praise to the God we know through Jesus.

 

“I bow down toward your holy temple” has led some to imagine the psalmist at some distance from Jerusalem, but most scholars imagine that he spoke of being in the temple courts, prostrating himself in a posture of abject prayer. [DD]

 

From his humble position, the psalmist thanked God “for your steadfast love and your faithfulness” (v. 2a). These defining characteristics echo the self-revelation of God to Moses in Exod. 34:6, when Yahweh passed by and proclaimed “Yahweh, Yahweh, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” The phrase appears often in the Hebrew Bible, and especially in the Psalms (see 25:10, 61:7, 85:10, 86:15, 89:14, 98:3).

 

The psalmist lauded Yahweh’s dependable fidelity because his life, like ours, had been anything but constant. He had trusted Yahweh in the low spots, however, giving rise to his current position of thankful praise.

 

The latter half of v. 2 is difficult to translate. The words are familiar, but sound odd together. A literal reading is “for you have made great over your name your word.” [DD]

 

The idea seems to be that the psalmist has found Yahweh’s promises (an alternate translation of “word”) to be even greater than he had imagined based on God’s name, in the sense of “reputation.” His adulation now grows from personal experience: “On the day I called, you answered me, you increased my strength of soul” (v. 3).

 

The NRSV translation, like most others, is rather tame: the word rendered “increased” is an intensive form of a verb that normally means “to act arrogantly,” or even “stormily.” While neither adverb sounds appealing, the emphasis is on boldness: NET has “You made me bold and energized me.”

 

When the psalmist faced heavy trials, trusting Yahweh had given him confidence to act with boldness that some might have seen as arrogance, but the psalmist saw it as the empowering gift of God’s presence.

 

 

 

Enamored by memories of how God had helped him, the psalmist expressed confidence—or hope—that God’s reputation would spread throughout the known world: The NRSV takes the verb for praise as indicating a future certainty: “All the kings of the earth shall praise the LORD, for they have heard the words of your mouth” (v. 4).

 

But how could he have such confidence? Human history offers no evidence that all earthly rulers have either heard God’s voice or responded with praise, though it may remain a hope for the future.

 

It seems better to take the verb as a jussive form, which is perfectly permissible in Hebrew, so that we read the verse as a wish rather than a certainty: “Let all the kings of the earth give thanks to you, O LORD, when they hear the words that you speak” (NET), or “May all the kings of the earth praise you …” (NIV11).

 

We face the same issue with v. 5, which the NRSV renders as “They shall sing of the ways of the LORD, for great is the glory of the LORD.” The verb for “sing” could also be rendered as a jussive: “Let them sing …,” or “May they sing ….”

 

However skeptical we might be concerning a global response of national leaders, we are led to wonder why the rulers of the earth should offer such praise to God.

 

Here’s the psalmist’s answer: “For though the LORD is high, he regards the lowly; but the haughty he perceives from far away” (v. 6). An alternate reading, based on an emendation to the verb, is “and from far away humbles the proud” (NET).

 

In either case, the point is the same: the same God who is exalted above all has a special concern for those who are the lowest. This is a recurring theme in scripture, perhaps finding its clearest expression in Jesus’ teaching that following his way means ministering to “the least of these” (Matt. 25:40).

 

This theme is at the root of Liberation Theology, which emphasizes that God has a special concern for those who are poor and downtrodden. We may sometimes think of ourselves as victims, but we should give attention to ways in which we have been unwitting oppressors, benefiting from a history of racism and an economic system that inherently benefits more wealthy people at the expense of the poor.

 

In that sense, we are like the “kings of the earth” who are accustomed to ruling over others. We would do well to heed the psalmist’s call to remember that God is the highest of all, but cares for the lowest of the low. So should we.

 

 

 

Having offered praise for deliverance past, the psalmist turns to the present hope that God’s steadfast love and faithfulness will remain as he continues “to walk in the midst of trouble.” He expresses trustful hope that God will continue to “preserve me against the wrath of my enemies” by the power of God’s mighty hand (v. 7).

 

The final verse likewise begins in trust: “The LORD will fulfill his purposes for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever” (v. 8a).

 

Still, behind the psalmist’s brash confidence there lingers uncertainty. His insecurity surfaces with the last line, though he continues to speak with surprising boldness: “Do not forsake the work of your hands” (v. 8b).

 

How many of us would dare to speak as if commanding God? We would expect, at the least, “Please, O Lord, do not forsake.” Perhaps we can presume an attitude of request rather than command, given the psalmist’s stated posture of prostration before the temple (v. 2), the symbol of God’s presence.

 

The poet’s concluding plea is instructive, for we also face ups and downs in life. We may rejoice when overcoming an obstacle, but we know that it’s not all peaches and cream from there. We will face more difficulties in life, and we will need to continually trust in a God who is loving and faithful, a God who cares for those who are downtrodden.

 

As we do so, perhaps God will remind us that there are others more unfortunate than us: perhaps we can be the means of God’s blessing by reaching out our own hands to uplift others who may have given up hope, and who need the touch of hope.