1 Why do the nations muster with tumult,
And the peoples meditate vanity?
2 The kings of the earth take up their posts,
And the chieftains sit in counsel together
Against Jehovah and against His Anointed.
3 "Let us wrench off their bands,
And let us fling off from us their cords."
4 He who sits in the heavens laughs;
The Lord mocks at them.
5 Then He speaks to them in His anger-wrath,
And in His wrath-heat puts them in panic.
6 ... "And yet I, I have set my King
Upon Zion, my holy mountain."
7 I will tell of a decree:
Jehovah said unto me, My son art thou;
I have begotten thee this day.
8 Ask from me and I will give thee the nations as thine inheritance,
And as thy possession the ends of the earth.
9 Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron,
Like a potter's vessel shalt thou shatter them.
10 And now, O kings, be wise;
Let yourselves be warned, O judges of the earth.
11 Serve Jehovah in fear,
And rejoice in trembling.
12 Kiss the Son (?), lest He be angry, and ye perish in [your] way;
For easily may His wrath kindle.
Blessed are all who take refuge in Him!
Various unsatisfactory conjectures as to a historical basis for this
magnificent lyric have been made, but none succeeds in specifying
events which fit with the situation painted in it. The banded enemies
are rebels, and the revolt is widespread; for the "kings of the earth"
is a very comprehensive, if we may not even say a universal,
expression. If taken in connection with the "uttermost parts of the
earth" (ver. 8), which are the King's rightful dominion, it implies a
sweep of authority and a breadth of opposition quite beyond any
recorded facts. Authorship and date must be left undetermined. The
psalm is anonymous, like Psalm i., and is thereby marked off from the
psalms which follow in Book I., and with one exception are ascribed to
David. Whether these two preludes to the Psalter were set in their
present place on the completion of the whole book, or were prefixed to
the smaller "Davidic" collection, cannot be settled. The date of
composition may have been much earlier than that of either the smaller
or the larger collection.
The true basis of the psalm is not some petty revolt of subject
tribes, even if such could be adduced, but Nathan's prophecy in 2 Sam.
vii., which sets forth the dignity and dominion of the King of Israel
as God's son and representative. The poet-prophet of our psalm may
have lived after many monarchs had borne the title, but failed to
realise the ideal there outlined, and the imperfect shadows may have
helped to lift his thoughts to the reality. His grand poem may be
called an idealising of the monarch of Israel, but it is an idealising
which expected realisation. The psalm is prophecy as well as poetry;
and whether it had contemporaneous persons and events as a
starting-point or not, its theme is a real person, fully possessing
the prerogatives and wielding the dominion which Nathan had declared
to be God's gift to the King of Israel.
The psalm falls into four strophes of three verses each, in the first
three of which the reader is made spectator and auditor of vividly
painted scenes, while in the last the psalmist exhorts the rebels to
return to allegiance.
In the first strophe (vv. 1-3) the conspiracy of banded rebels is set
before us with extraordinary force. The singer does not delay to tell
what he sees, but breaks into a question of astonished indignation as to
what _can_ be the cause of it all. Then, in a series of swift clauses,
of which the vivid movement cannot be preserved in a translation, he
lets us see what had so moved him. The masses of the "nations" are
hurrying tumultuously to the mustering-place; the "peoples" are
meditating revolt, which is smitingly stigmatised in anticipation as
"vanity." But it is no mere uprising of the common herd; "the kings of
the earth" take their stand as in battle-array, and the men of mark and
influence lay their heads together, pressing close to one another on the
divan as they plot. All classes and orders are united in revolt, and
hurry and eagerness mark their action and throb in the words. The rule
against which the revolt is directed is that of "Jehovah and His
Anointed." That is one rule, not two,--the dominion of Jehovah exercised
through the Messiah. The psalmist had grasped firmly the conception that
God's visible rule is wielded by Messiah, so that rebellion against one
is rebellion against both. Their "bands" are the same. Pure monotheist
as the psalmist was, he had the thought of a king so closely associated
with Jehovah, that he could name them in one breath as, in some sense,
sharers of the same throne and struck at by the same revolt. The
foundation of such a conception was given in the designation of the
Davidic monarch as God's vicegerent and representative, but its full
justification is the relation of the historic Christ to the Father whose
throne He shares in glory.
That eloquent "why" may include both the ideas of "for what reason?" and
"to what purpose?" Opposition to that King, whether by communities or
individuals, is unreasonable. Every rising of a human will against the
rule which it is blessedness to accept is absurd, and hopelessly
incapable of justification. The question, so understood, is unanswerable
by the rebels or by any one else. The one mystery of mysteries is that a
finite will should be able to lift itself against the Infinite Will, and
be willing to use its power. In the other aspect, the question, like
that pregnant "vanity," implies the failure of all rebellion. Plot and
strive, conspire and muster, as men may, all is vanity and striving of
wind. It is destined to break down from the beginning. It is as hopeless
as if the stars were to combine to abolish gravitation. That dominion
does not depend on man's acceptance of it, and he can no more throw it
off by opposition than he can fling a somersault into space and so get
away from earth. When we can vote ourselves out of submission to
physical law, we may plot or fight ourselves out of subjection to the
reign of Jehovah and of His Anointed.
All the self-will in the world does not alter the fact that the
authority of Christ is sovereign over human wills. We cannot get away
from it; but we can either lovingly embrace it, and then it is our
life, or we can set ourselves against it, like an obstinate ox
planting its feet and standing stock-still, and then the goad is
driven deep and draws blood.
The metaphor of bands and cords is taken from the fastenings of the
yoke on a draught bullock. One can scarcely miss the lovely contrast
of this truculent exhortation to rebellion with the gracious summons
"Take my yoke upon you and learn of me." The "bands" are already on
our necks in a very real sense, for we are all under Christ's
authority, and opposition is rebellion, not the effort to prevent a
yoke being imposed, but to shake off one already laid on. But yet the
consent of our own wills is called for, and thereby we take the yoke,
which is a stay rather than a fetter, and bear the burden which bears
up those who bear it.
Psalm i. set side by side in sharp contrast the godly and the godless.
Here a still more striking transition is made in the second strophe
(vv. 4-6), which changes the scene to heaven. The lower half of the
picture is all eager motion and strained effort; the upper is full of
Divine calm. Hot with hatred, flushed with defiant self-confidence and
busy with plots, the rebels hurry together like swarming ants on their
hillock. "He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh." That
representation of the seated God contrasts grandly with the stir on
earth. He needs not to rise from His throned tranquillity, but regards
undisturbed the disturbances of earth. The thought embodied is like
that expressed in the Egyptian statues of gods carved out of the side
of a mountain, "moulded in colossal calm," with their mighty hands
laid in their laps and their wide-opened eyes gazing down on the
little ways of the men creeping about their feet.
And what shall we say of that daring and awful image of the laughter
of God? The attribution of such action to Him is so bold that no
danger of misunderstanding it is possible. It sends us at once to look
for its translation, which probably lies in the thought of the
essential ludicrousness of opposition, which is discerned in heaven to
be so utterly groundless and hopeless as to be absurd. "When He came
nigh and beheld the city, He wept over it." The two pictures are not
incapable of being reconciled. The Christ who wept over sinners is the
fullest revelation of the heart of God, and the laughter of the psalm
is consistent with the tears of Jesus as He stood on Olivet, and
looked across the glen to the Temple glittering in the morning sun.
God's laughter passes into the utterance of His wrath at the time
determined by Him. The silence is broken by His voice, and the
motionless form flashes into action. One movement is enough to "vex"
the enemies and fling them into panic, as a flock of birds put to
flight by the lifting of an arm. There is a point, known to God alone,
when He perceives that the fulness of time has come, and the
opposition must be ended. By long-drawn-out, gentle patience He has
sought to win to obedience (though that side of His dealings is not
presented in this psalm), but the moment arrives when in world-wide
catastrophes or crushing blows on individuals sleeping retribution
wakes at the right moment, determined by considerations inappreciable
by us: "Then does He speak in His wrath."
The last verse of this strophe is parallel with the last of the
preceding, being, like it, the dramatically introduced speech of the
actor in the previous verses. The revolters' mutual encouragement is
directly answered by the sovereign word of God, which discloses the
reason for the futility of their attempts. The "I" of ver. 6 is
emphatic. On one side is that majestic "I have set my King"; on the
other a world of rebels. They may put their shoulders to the throne
of the Anointed to overthrow it; but what of that? God's hand holds it
firm, whatever forces press on it. All enmity of banded or of single
wills breaks against and is dashed by it into ineffectual spray.
Another speaker is next heard, the Anointed King, who, in the third
strophe (vv. 7-9), bears witness to Himself and claims universal
dominion as His by a Divine decree. "Thou art my son; to-day have I
begotten thee." So runs the first part of the decree. The allusion to
Nathan's words to David is clear. In them the prophet spoke of the
succession of David's descendants, the king as a collective person, so
to speak. The psalmist, knowing how incompletely any or all of these
had fulfilled the words which were the patent of their kingship,
repeats them in confident faith as certain to be accomplished in the
Messiah-king, who fills the future for him with a great light of hope.
He knew not the historic person in whom the word has to be fulfilled,
but it is difficult to resist the conclusion that he had before him
the prospect of a king living as a man, the heir of the promises. Now,
this idea of sonship, as belonging to the monarch, is much better
illustrated by the fact that Israel, the nation, was so named, than by
the boasts of Gentile dynasties to be sons of Zeus or Ra. The
relationship is moral and spiritual, involving Divine care and love
and appointment to office, and demanding human obedience and use of
dignity for God. It is to be observed that in our psalm the day of the
King's self-attestation is the day of His being "begotten." The point
of time referred to is not the beginning of personal existence, but of
investiture with royalty. With accurate insight, then, into the
meaning of the words, the New Testament takes them as fulfilled in
the Resurrection (Acts xiii. 33; Rom. i. 4). In it, as the first step
in the process which was completed in the Ascension, the manhood of
Jesus was lifted above the limitations and weaknesses of earth, and
began to rise to the throne. The day of His resurrection was, as it
were, the day of the birth of His humanity into royal glory.
Built upon this exaltation to royalty and sonship follows the promise
of universal dominion. Surely the expectation of "the uttermost parts
of the earth for a possession" bursts the bonds of the tiny Jewish
kingdom! The wildest national pride could scarcely have dreamed that
the narrow strip of seaboard, whose inhabitants never entered on any
wide schemes of conquest, should expand into a universal monarchy,
stretching even farther than the giant empires on either side. If such
were the psalmist's expectations, they were never even approximately
fulfilled; but the reference of the glowing words to Messiah's kingdom
is in accordance with the current of prophetic hopes, and need cause
no hesitation to those who believe in prophecy at all.
Universal dominion is God's gift to Messiah. Even while putting His
foot on the step of the throne, Jesus said, "All power is _given_ unto
me." This dominion is founded not on His essential divinity, but on
His suffering and sacrifice. His rule is the rule of God in Him, for
He is the highest form of the Divine self-revelation, and whoso
trusts, loves, and obeys Christ, trusts, loves, and obeys God in Him.
The psalmist did not know in how much more profound a sense than he
attached to his words they were true. They had an intelligible, great,
and true meaning for him. They have a greater for us.
The Divine voice foretells victory over opposition and destruction to
opposers. The sceptre is of iron, though the hand that holds it once
grasped the reed. The word rendered "break" may also be translated,
with a different set of vowels, "shepherd," and is so rendered by the
LXX. (which Rev. ii. 27, etc., follows) and by some other versions.
But, in view of the parallelism of the next clause, "break" is to be
preferred. The truth of Christ's destructive energy is too often
forgotten, and, when remembered, is too often thrown forward into
another world. The history of this world ever since the Resurrection
has been but a record of conquered antagonism to Him. The stone cut
out without hands has dashed against the images of clay and silver and
gold and broken them all. The Gospel of Christ is the great solvent of
institutions not based upon itself. Its work is
"To cast the kingdoms old
Into another mould."
Destructive work has still to be done, and its most terrible energy is
to be displayed in the future, when all opposition shall be withered
into nothingness by the brightness of His presence. There are two
kinds of breaking: a merciful one, when His love shatters our pride
and breaks into penitence the earthen vessels of our hearts; and a
terrible one, when the weight of His sceptre crushes, and His hand
casts down in shivers "vessels of wrath, fitted to destruction."
We have listened to three voices, and now, in vv. 10-12, the poet
speaks in solemn exhortation: "Be wise now, ye kings." The "now" is
argumentative, not temporal. It means "since things are so." The kings
addressed are the rebel monarchs whose power seems so puny measured
against that of "my King." But not only these are addressed, but all
possessors of power and influence. Open-eyed consideration of the
facts is true wisdom. The maddest thing a man can do is to shut his
eyes to them and steel his heart against their instruction. This
pleading invitation to calm reflection is the purpose of all the
preceding. To draw rebels to loyalty, which is life, is the meaning of
all appeals to terror. God and His prophet desire that the conviction
of the futility of rebellion with a poor "ten thousand" against "the
king of twenty thousands" should lead to "sending an embassage" to sue
for peace. The facts are before men, that they may be warned and wise.
The exhortation which follows in vv. 11, 12 points to the conduct which
will be dictated by wise reception of instruction. So far as regards
ver. 11 there is little difficulty. The exhortation to "serve Jehovah
with fear and rejoice with trembling" points to obedience founded on awe
of God's majesty,--the fear which love does not cast out, but perfect;
and to the gladness which blends with reverence, but is not darkened by
it. To love and cleave to God, to feel the silent awe of His greatness
and holiness giving dignity and solemnity to our gladness, and from this
inmost heaven of contemplation to come down to a life of practical
obedience--this is God's command and man's blessedness.
The close connection between Jehovah and Messiah in the preceding
sections, in each of which the dominion of the latter is treated as that
of the former and rebellion as against both at once, renders it
extremely improbable that there should be no reference to the King in
this closing hortatory strophe. The view-point of the psalm, if
consistently retained throughout, requires something equivalent to the
exhortation to "kiss the Son" in token of fealty, to follow, "serve
Jehovah." But the rendering "Son" is impossible. The word so translated
is _Bar_, which is the Aramaic for _son_, but is not found in that sense
in the Old Testament except in the Aramaic of Ezra and Daniel and in
Prov. xxxi. 2, a chapter which has in other respects a distinct Aramaic
tinge. No good reason appears for the supposition that the singer here
went out of his way to employ a foreign word instead of the usual _Ben_.
But it is probably impossible to make any good and certain rendering of
the existing text. The LXX. and Targum agree in rendering, "Take hold of
instruction," which probably implies another reading of Hebrew text.
None of the various proposed translations--_e.g._, _Worship purely,
Worship the chosen One_--are without objection; and, on the whole, the
supposition of textual corruption seems best. The conjectural
emendations of Grätz, _Hold fast by warning_, or reproof; Cheyne's
alternative ones, _Seek ye His face_ ("Book of Psalms," adopted from
Brüll) or _Put on [again] His bonds_ ("Orig. of Psalt.," p. 351, adopted
from Lagarde), and Hupfeld's (in his translation) _Cleave to Him_,
obliterate the reference to the King, which seems needful in this
section, as has been pointed out, and depart from the well-established
meaning of the verb--namely, "kiss." These two considerations seem to
require that a noun referring to Messiah, and grammatically object of
the verb, should stand in the place occupied by _Son_. The Messianic
reference of the psalm remains undimmed by the uncertainty of the
meaning of this clause.
The transition from the representative of Jehovah to Jehovah Himself,
which takes place in the next clause, is in accordance with the close
union between them which has marked the whole psalm. It is henceforth
Jehovah only who appears till the close. But the anger which is
destructive, and which may easily flash out like flames from a furnace
mouth, is excited by opposition to Messiah's kingdom, and the
exclusive mention of Jehovah in these closing clauses makes the
picture of the anger the more terrible.
But since the disclosure of the danger of perishing "in [or as to] the
way" or course of rebellious conduct is part of an exhortation, the
purpose of which is that the threatened flash of wrath may never need
to shoot forth, the psalmist will not close without setting forth the
blessed alternative. The sweet benediction of the close bends round to
the opening words of the companion psalm of prelude, and thus
identifies the man who delights in the law of Jehovah with him who
submits to the kingdom of God's Anointed. The expression "put their
trust" literally means to take refuge in. The act of trust cannot be
more beautifully or forcibly described than as the flight of the soul
to God. They who take shelter in God need fear no kindling anger. They
who yield to the King are they who take refuge in Jehovah; and such
never know aught of His kingdom but its blessings, nor experience any
flame of His wrath, but only the happy glow of His love.