In my previous posts, I looked at the theme of creation as it is found in a sequence of psalms devoted to Yahweh’s Kingship (Psalms 93-100). Among other matters, these psalms declare that when the Kingdom of Israel’s God comes, it is the Kingdom of the world’s own Creator. I now hope to tie this in with the themes of the fourth “book” of the Psalter (i.e. Psalms 90-106), considered as a whole.
To anticipate: Book 4 responds, I will suggest, to the perplexity expressed in Psalm 89, where it appears that Yahweh’s commitment to Israel—and especially his faithfulness to David—has been cast aside. Book 4 answers this challenge by giving particular prominence to the figure of Moses—considered here not so much as a legislator, perhaps, but as the paradigmatic intercessor with Yahweh on Israel’s behalf. The Mosaic voice of Genesis 1 taught Israel to believe in Yahweh as Creator, and the creation theology of Book 4 of the Psalter now recalls that Mosaic voice: the God who separated and filled in Genesis 1—who divided the waters without opposition—is the God who can call things that are not as though they are. This God can raise Israel from the dead, from exile. To this God, we rightly conclude, belongs the power and the glory—the monarchia. The church rightly infers that this God creates ex nihilo.
Psalms 90-106 as a Mosaic book
In the Psalter’s canonical form, Book 4 can be seen as the Psalter’s most “Mosaic” book: Psalm 90, with which the section begins, is unique in being attributed to Moses (90:1), and the sequence of three psalms with which Book 4 climaxes itself ends with a psalm giving prominence to Moses (Psalm 106—where Moses is mentioned 3x). Indeed, Moses is mentioned seven times within Psalms 90-106 (90:1, 99:6, 103:7, 105:26, 106:16, 106:23, 106:32)—particularly noteworthy given that Moses is named only one other time in the entire Psalter.
The concluding sequence of psalms (104-106) are united together by the repetition of “Hallelujah” with which each ends, and taken together these three psalms form a miniature “pentateuchal” narrative: Psalm 104 deals with “creation” in a manner reminiscent of Genesis 1; Psalm 105 deals with the patriarchs and the exodus; and Ps. 106 narrates Israel’s history from the exodus through the wilderness wandering and the early occupation of the land, with an emphasis on Israel’s disobedience.
Additionally, we noted in a previous post that in Psalm 95 an unnamed voice addresses Israel with an admonition not to be stubborn as the people were at Meribah and at Massah (95:7b-11). Meribah is mentioned again at 106:32 with emphasis on its consequences for Moses—but is mentioned elsewhere in the Psalter only at 81:8. Finally, Moses (as well as Aaron and Samuel) enter suddenly into Psalm 99 in a reminder of Yahweh’s rule over Israel via law and decree at Sinai.
This Mosaic emphasis in Book 4 may have hermeneutical implications for the way that we hear the references to creation in the psalms other than the kingship psalms of 93-100—and perhaps also influences the way that we hear the references both to creation and kingship in 93-100 as well. We will return to the significance of Moses below, but first it is necessary to contextualize Psalms 90-106 within the preceding narrative “flow” of the Psalter within which Book 4 is situated.[1]
Variations of a doxological refrain such at that in Psalm 41:14 (“Blessed is the LORD, God of Israel, from eternity to eternity! Amen and Amen”) divide the Psalter into five books of unequal length and unclearly differentiated content.[2] Although it is often unclear why a given psalm falls just where it does within these five “books” of the Psalter, Christopher Seitz has proposed that the figure of David (and the royal promises given to him by Yahweh) constitutes one of the principles of ordering.
The great majority of psalms in Book 1 have superscriptions attributing them to David. Many specify not only Davidic authorship, but specific events in the life of David: “Personal prayers—of entreaty, of confidence, of thanksgiving; for healing, deliverance, and a right attitude for worship—show David at widest reach.”[3] In Book 2, David recedes from the superscriptions to some degree and is joined by Korah and Asaph, but events in the life of David are still prominent (e.g. Psalms. 51-63); however, by the end of Book 2, there are indications that David is reaching the end of his life: the (unidentified) singer of Ps. 71 has reached old age and grey hairs, and Psalm 72 is attributed to Solomon, David’s son and successor. The doxology with which Book 2 concludes announces the “end of the prayers of David son of Jesse” (72:20). As Seitz remarks, “This may not mean that we will hear nothing more about David or the royal promises associated with his rule, but that the focus will shift from his earthly life of prayer to prayers about him and the promises associated with him. Not David the man, but David the paradigmatic ruler, will now be the focus of interest.”
Book 3 has only one attribution to David—the lament and cry for deliverance found in Psalm 86. More importantly, Book 3 ends with a poignant lament for the apparent rejection of the Davidic king, found in Psalm 89. According to this Psalm, Yahweh has unconditionally elected the Davidic king as the vicegerent of his own authority (for the unconditionality, see vv. 30-38; for the vicegerency, compare vv. 10-11 and 26-28). The king’s defeat, however, raises an obvious question about Yahweh’s faithfulness: “O LORD, where is your steadfast love of old which you swore to David in your faithfulness?” (v. 50). Indeed, the urgency of the issue of divine faithfulness in this psalm is underscored by the density of vocabulary designating it: ’emunah occurs 8 times in this one psalm, whereas the next most similar density is found in (much more lengthy) Psalm 119 (5x).
The singularity of there being only one Psalm attributed to David in Book 3 of the Psalter is matched by the uniqueness of the one Psalm attributed to Moses with which Book 4 opens. We noted above that Moses’ presence in this section seems to be too marked to be coincidental (to repeat: his name is mentioned 7x, and he brackets the section via Psalms 90 and 106). Why is Moses important just here—i.e. how does his appearance fit the trajectory of the Psalter sketched above—and what does it have to do with the theme of creation of interest to us in this series of posts?
A plausible answer might be that the presence of Moses signals a return ad fontes: “We go straight to the source here, to the man of God, the giver of the law, the law that promised a king (Deut 17:14-20) and in so doing stood in prior relationship to the fulfillment of that promise in David” (Seitz, “Royal Promises,” 162). What is needed at this juncture in Israel’s history, the text implies, is “the prophetic supplicant par excellence of the ‘primal beginning,’ if the history of God with Israel is to continue” (Zenger, “God of Israel’s Reign,” 166). It is no accident, then, that the figure of Moses enters the Psalter just here, voicing a petition for mercy (“Turn, O LORD!…Show mercy to your servants” [90:13]) that makes allusion to his successful intervention on Israel’s behalf after the sin with the golden calf (Zenger, “God of Israel’s Reign,” 166): “Turn from your blazing anger, and renounce the plan to punish your people. Remember your servants, Abraham, Isaac and Israel” (Exodus 32:12-13) .
This same Moses now arises again (so to speak) in order to confess that the wrath experienced by Israel (and Israel’s king) are due to Israel’s sins (90:8-9), and to request a restoration of favor (vv. 13-17). The subsequent Psalm 91, a psalm without attribution, answers with reassurance not on the basis of God’s faithfulness to David per se, but on the basis of God’s faithfulness as such: to the one who trusts in him, God himself will show deliverance (v. 16). Psalm 92 concludes on another “Mosaic” note by (possibly) evoking Deuteronomy 32:
attesting that the LORD is upright,
my Rock, in whom there is no wrong. (Ps. 92:16)
The Rock!—His deeds are perfect,
Yes, all his ways are just,
A faithful God, never unrighteous,
true and upright is he. (Deut. 32:4)
Here the psalms begin emphasizing Yahweh’s own kingship: again, what is needed at this juncture in Israel’s history is for God to reassert his own kingship—“over all gods, over creation, and especially over his own people Israel” (Seitz, “Royal Promises,” 164). Only after the emphasis on Yahweh’s own kingship does the voice of David (surprisingly) reemerge in Psalm 101 in order to sing of Yahweh’s faithfulness and justice—promising, as it seems, some future for the Davidic house and the Davidic voice.
Psalm 102 expresses the cry of an afflicted everyman, who records for a coming generation the fact that God “looks down from His holy height…to hear the groans of the prisoner, to release those condemned to death” (102:20-21). Psalms 103 and 104 are editorially joined by the refrain “Bless the LORD, O my soul”—but Psalms 104 through 106 also form a sequence reciting, as mentioned above, a narrative drawn from or related to the narratives in the Pentateuch.
Although Seitz characterizes the close of Book 4 of the Psalter as “psalms of blessing and praise of God, introduced by David,” it is not so clear that the Davidic attribution of Psalm 103 is to be applied to Psalms 105 and 106. Nor is Psalm 106 a straightforward psalm of “blessing and praise”: while it does begin with a word of praise, the psalm blends confession of Israel’s history of unfaithfulness with recollections of God’s ever-renewed faithfulness, and it ends with an appeal to God for a fresh renewal of that faithfulness:
Deliver us, O LORD God,
and gather us from among the nations,
to acclaim your holy name,
to glory in your praise. (Psalm 106:47)
Moses is mentioned most frequently (3x) in this psalm, forming a fitting inclusion with Psalm 90, spoken in persona Mosi; the fittingness is heightened in that the confession of sin and the appeal for help initiated by Moses in Ps. 90 is now taken up in Psalm 106 by David (if Seitz is correct) or by a liturgical everyman as a confession of recurring national sin and present need: the history of intercession initiated by Moses (Psalm 90) is taken up and brought into the Psalter’s “present” with Psalm 106 and its request, cited above, for renewed deliverance and re-gathering.
My purpose in belaboring the trajectory of the Psalter up through Book 4—and the “internal” trajectory within Book 4 itself—is to suggest that the references to creation in Book 4 play a part in the theological objectives of Book 4. They are not merely isolated references: they are part of the “Mosaic” trajectory.
Regarding the significance of Psalm 90 as a Mosaic intercession having been sketched above, I here wish only to observe the frames of reference (temporal and theological) established for this intercession—and indeed for the whole of Book 4 of the Psalter—by vv. 1-2. The psalm looks backward to two frames of temporal reference. In the first place, God has been Israel’s “refuge” from one generation to another: by the choice of the suffix conjugation, “you have been,” the Psalm perhaps deftly and deliberately leaves open whether this is still to be true in the petitioner’s time or is no longer the case (rightly noted by commentators Hossfeld and Zenger).
But it is further affirmed here that God’s divine power, historically exercised on Israel’s behalf as her “refuge,” itself precedes the creation of the world (v. 2)—in whatever sense of “before” is applicable to the life of God without the created structures that ordinarily mark time. As the “pre-existent” God, Yahweh is also the one who brought forth the world as humans know it (“Before the mountains were brought forth and you bore the land and the earth,” v. 2). This reference to God as the Creator whose own existence surpasses and precedes the created world (again, in whatever sense of “precede” is relevant for God) is especially relevant for this section of the Psalter in its character as a response to the apparent failure of national hopes if, as Richard J. Clifford has argued, the point of Psalm 90 is not primarily a wisdom meditation on human transience per se, but rather a lament that an exilic generation is passing away that has not experienced Israel’s everlasting God as its “refuge” like previous generations have done. The prayer (in the persona of Moses) requests some indication as to how much longer Israel’s discipline and suffering must last: will Israel’s everlasting God, asks the psalm, again exert himself on behalf of the chosen people while there is still time to enjoy a measure of human flourishing (vv. 13-17)?
Especially if Clifford’s interpretation of Psalm 90 is sustainable, the lament of Psalm 102—with its affirmations of human suffering and transience, and of divine eternity—would make for interesting comparison. In this psalm an unnamed mourner complains that his life is passing away in suffering (vv. 4-12, 24-25), but he sets his sufferings in the context of hopes for the city of Jerusalem and the facts of divine kingship and creativity (vv. 13-23, 26-29).
More specifically, v. 13 affirms God’s eternal kingship (“But you, Yahweh, are enthroned forever”), while vv. 25b-28 infer both from creation’s mutability and from God’s agency in creation that God himself will endure:
25b Your years endure from generation to generation.
26 Formerly you founded the earth,
the heavens are the work of your hands.
27 They will vanish, but you remain;
they will wear out like a garment,
you will change them like clothing, and they pass away.
28 You are the same, and your years do not end.
God’s “time” embraces both the beginnings and ends of creaturely existence.
Psalm 104 depicts Yahweh establishing the structures and boundaries that constitute the physical world. Thus, he spreads the heavens like a tent curtain (v. 2b) and establishes his “penthouse” in the heavenly waters (v.3a). He sets the earth on its foundations so that it is perpetually secure (v. 5; cf. 93:1); and, having rebuked the covering waters (see below), he confines the waters to the place he has established for them, so that they too are securely fixed (vv. 7-9). Bearing attributes of a storm god (vv. 3-4) and having set boundaries for the deep (vv. 6-9), Yahweh provides streams of water that sustain the “beasts of the field” and the “birds of heaven,” and he provides herbage for man and beast (v. 14)—the psalmist focusing particularly on the staples of settled human life (v. 15).
Verse 6a presents a particular exegetical challenge. According to the MT, Yahweh is addressed in the second person, and something like a “creation” of—or at least an exercise of absolute mastery over—“the deep” seems to be alluded to: “You covered it [=the earth?] with the deep as with a garment.” In this interpretation, the tehôm (“the deep”) is parsed as an accusative of means, but a difficulty immediately arises from the form underlying “you covered it”: the most likely referent of the “it” in the context (the “earth”; or, just in case it is not the adverbial accusative supposed, “the deep”) is usually feminine in gender—although there are rare cases in which it is masculine (as also with “the deep”).
A proposed emendation that would make “the deep” the subject of the clause is regularly put forward, and this would resolve the issue nicely; however, the ancient versions are generally agreed that a second person masculine is to be read here, and the proposal to emend seems motivated by the prior assumption that the Chaoskampf motif is present in and ultimately governing the thought of this psalm. Given the focus on Yahweh’s masterful agency and the prominent theme of God’s provision of waters, I am inclined to read with the MT and understand the verse as a statement of Yahweh’s mastery over “the deep”: the verses describe Yahweh’s adjustment of the height of the waters, which he authoritatively (thus the references to “rebuke” and “thunder” in v. 7) admonishes where to stand and stay put. The waters “hop to” (v. 7)—so promptly that they even scurry up mountains to get to their appointed place (v. 8).
Vv. 24-30 provide a summative statement of Yahweh’s work in creation, focusing particularly on the waters and the dependence of all creatures on Yahweh for life. The psalmist expresses wonder: “How many are your works, Yahweh! You made them all with wisdom; the earth is full of what you have made” (v. 24). The immediate mention of the expansive sea implies that it is merely one more work/creation of Yahweh: noteworthy, to be sure, but created nonetheless. Likewise, Leviathan is specified as a created plaything. All that fills the earth—including, it is implied, Leviathan—look to Yahweh for food and for the breath that animates them (vv. 27-30).
The language for dependency is worth quoting in full:
27 All of them [=the works of Yahweh mentioned in v. 24, presumably] wait on you
to give them their food in its season.
28 You give to them and they gather it up,
you open your hand and they are satisfied with good.
29 You hide your face and they are dismayed,
you take away their breath and they perish,
and they return to their dust.
30 You send out your breath and they are created,
and you renew the face of the earth.
It has long been observed that Psalm 104 is strikingly similar to the Egyptian Hymn to the Aten, and it is also commonly observed that the psalm bears numerous resemblances to Genesis 1, at least in the sequence of the things mentioned if not in explicit verbal echoes. My purpose here is not to add directly to either discussion, but to observe the placement of Psalm 104 within the fourth book of the Psalter. Interestingly, due to probable editorial additions, Psalm 104 can be grouped either with the preceding Psalm 103 (note the connecting function of the repeated phrase “Bless the LORD, O my soul” in Psalms 103:1, 22; 104:1, 35), or with the succeeding Psalms 105 and 106.
It is the latter connection that I wish to focus on here. Most broadly, Psalms 104-106 are united by the addition of “Hallelujah” (104:35; 105:45; 106:1 and 48). More specifically, Frank-Lothar Hossfeld helpfully summarizes a number of verbal links between Psalms 104 and 105. (And since Psalms 105 and 106 are regularly seen as “paired” by commentators, for Psalm 104 to be joined with Psalm 105 is thus to be pulled also into the orbit of the 105-106 pairing.) Yahweh’s majesty is manifested in his wonderful deeds in both creation and history: Yahweh makes (Psalms 104:13, 19, 24, 31; 105:5), sends (Psalms 104:10, 30; 105:17, 26, 28), establishes (Psalm 104:3; cf. Moses and Aaron in 105:27 in a function similar to God’s), gives (Psalms 104:27-28; 105:32), and satisfies (Psalm 104:13; cf. 104:16, 28; 105:40).
Multitudes of living things come in answer his summons (Psalms 104:25; 105:34). Yahweh makes all things with wisdom (Psalm 104:24), and his emissaries teach and rule with wisdom (105:21-22). “These overlaps in the activities of YHWH suggest a continuity in his working, from creation to the present time, especially since the plague narrative in Ps 105:28-36 in itself leads back to creation” (Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 3, 74). While there is no particular reason to think that Psalms 104 and 105 (and 106, for that matter) were originally composed with one another in mind, there is nevertheless a plausibility to their canonical placement side by side (and the editorial joining with “Hallelujah”): “On the whole, the result is a series of linkages that make it seem plausible that the independent psalm corpora of Psalms 104 and 105 were deliberately placed one after the other because, despite all their differences, they yield a continuing hymnic historical narrative from the beginnings of creation” (Hossfeld and Zenger).
Indeed, the “historical narrative from the beginnings of creation” looks remarkably like a précis of the Pentateuch: again, Ps. 104 narrates creation; Ps. 105 looks to the patriarchal history and the exodus from Egypt (references to Abraham bracket the whole); and Ps. 106 narrates Israel’s disobedience from its days in Egypt, during the wilderness wandering, and in the early years in the land itself. That the account of the “beginnings” looks so much like Genesis 1—as Psalm 104 certainly does—befits this markedly “Mosaic” fourth book of the Psalter. While the literary relationship between Psalm 104 and Genesis 1 will doubtless remain a matter of dispute among OT scholars, the placement of Psalm 104 in a “Mosaic” section of the Psalter and a “Mosaic” sequence of psalms suggests that, at the level of canonical placement, it was understood and offered as a complement to—or even an “exegesis” of—Genesis 1.
The placement of Psalm 104, with its striking similarity to Genesis 1, in the “Mosaic” sequence of Psalms 104-106 serves to reemphasize the primacy of Gen. 1 in Israel’s final, mature theological reflection: whatever mythological accounts Israel may have known and (partially and/or occasionally) employed to describe God’s creative activity—the theology of the pentateuchal account is reaffirmed from the direction of (this portion of) the Psalter. Yahweh is not a god who creates by battle with some other antecedently existing power. The waters obey him, and he disposes of them to supply terrestrial creatures with life.
If the interpretation of Psalm 104:6 above is accepted, there is an indication within the canon (besides Genesis 1:1 itself, which some dispute) that Yahweh created “the deep,” since he first “clothed” the land with it and then adjusted its height to allow for dry land to stand forth. Certainly the sea and the mythological dragon in the sea are items on the list of his “works,” not antecedently and independently existing agents. The one agency of Yahweh is manifest both in the creation of the world under the sun, and in the vicissitudes of Israel’s history.
Concluding remarks
Why is the divine act of creation—and the particularly “Mosaic” witness to it—important just here in the Psalter? Psalms 90, 102, and 104—together with the psalms of divine kingship (Pss. 93-100) and their interspersed references to Yahweh’s faithfulness (’emunah)—might answer: Because his are the hands that stretched the heavens and founded the earth, and because his breath is the breath that enlivens the earth, the faithful and eternal God may yet remember his people’s transience, take pity on Zion, relent in the multitude of his hesed and gather them again from among the nations (106:45, 47).
The figure and voice of Moses steps forward in Book 4 of the Psalter both interceding for Israel just as he had once done at Sinai, and also bearing witness to Yahweh’s mastery both over a world of his making and over Israel’s history. Yahweh’s eternity precedes the creature, and surpasses the temporal limits appointed for the creature: his own kingship has no end, and yet some new manifestation of it—as well as some new song celebrating it—are now called for. His acts of creation and world-sustenance initiated the temporal sequence that included the history of patriarchs and covenants and “salvations”—and conditions also how the history of Israel’s disobedience and unfaithfulness is finally to be read: just as his breath enlivens the face of the earth, says the Psalter, so perhaps he will again enliven and gather Israel, build Jerusalem, and be King over us.
The God who can re-gather scattered Israel out of exile is the God who can give life to the dead—who can call the things that are not as though they are. This God, we rightly conclude, creates ex nihilo.
Stephen Long is a PhD candidate in Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity at the University of Notre Dame.
[1] For the following sketch, I am indebted throughout to the observations of Christopher Seitz’s stimulating essay, “Royal Promises in the Canonical Books of Isaiah and the Psalms,” pp. 150-67 in his Word Without End: The Old Testament as Abiding Theological Witness (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998).
[2] The concluding refrain is found at the ends of Psalms 41, 72, 89, and 106.
[3] Seitz, “Royal Promises,” 159.