Psalm 41

Heal me (41:4). For the relationship between illness and divine discipline, see 32:4; 38:2.

Enemies … slander (41:5–6). One of the stereotypical themes of lament psalms is the social rejection and oppression that come upon the one suffering. The Mesopotamian Poem of the Righteous Sufferer describes the court intrigue that surrounded the afflicted: “Courtiers were plotting hostile action against me … slander and lies they try to lend credence against me.”195 This type of conspiracy makes sense in the political context of high society in which this psalm may have originated. However, social adversity is a common plight of average people as well, and so this language functions at an emotional level for everyone regardless of social status. For betrayal by friends (v. 9), see comments on 31:11.

Psalm 42

Deer (42:1). A deer is a common artistic image found on many seal impressions from the biblical period in Israel. In Judah, there was an apparent preference for does, especially in poses bent over lapping or grazing. This may be an expression of the same religious symbolism reflected in 42:1.196 The longing of deer for water was proverbial in Canaan, as illustrated in a text from Ugarit (ca. 1350 B.C.) that refers to craving for a pool of water “like a hind.”197

8th century clay bulla with a grazing deer, inscribed in ancient Hebrew: “Belonging to Yishmael, son of Nahum.”

Z. Radovan/www.BibleLandPictures.com

Meet with God (42:2). The Hebrew literally is “see the face of God.” This imagery refers to the refreshment and deliverance one can find when God is present and attentive to one’s need (see comments on 4:6). A letter written by a Canaanite vassal to his overlord, the Egyptian pharaoh, expresses hope using similar imagery: “You are the Sun who comes forth over me [described elsewhere in the letter as ‘sweet breath’] … when shall I see the face of the king my lord?”198

Cylinder seal contains a presentation scene of a deity taking the worshiper by the hand to bring him into the presence of another deity.

Kim Walton, courtesy of the Oriental Institute Museum

The privilege of meeting face to face with a deity is frequently illustrated in Egyptian and Mesopotamian art. Typically, an individual is led by a lesser god or personal deity to stand before the throne of a greater god from whom the worshiper seeks favor.199 In Psalm 42, seeing God is linked with experiencing his presence in the tabernacle or temple (v. 4; cf. 43:3; 63:2).

Leading the procession (42:4). See comments on 24:7; 68:24; 132:8.

Hermon … Mizar (42:6). For Mount Hermon, see comment on 133:3. The location of Mount Mizar is uncertain. The abundant rains on Mount Hermon supply the Jordan River, which in one northern locale cascades in the breath-taking Baniyas waterfall.200

Baniyas waterfalls

Edoardo Marascalchi

Bones (42:10). See comment on 22:14.

Psalm 43

Holy mountain (43:3). See comment on 48:1–2.

Harp (43:4). See comment on 150:3.

Psalm 44

In days long ago (44:1). See comments on Psalms 78 and 105.

I do not trust in my bow (44:6). The king is speaking for the community (cf. “we” in v. 1). This affirmation of trust in Yahweh alone is an important theme in psalms involving the king (see comment on 20:7).

Scattered us among the nations (44:11). A consequence of defeat in battle was deportation of captives to be slaves in a foreign land (see comments on 107:3; 147:3). In the Lament for Ur, the patron goddess of the city cries: “My daughters and sons have verily been carried off as captives.”201

You sold your people (44:12). When the Hittite king Arnuwanda decries the abandonment of the people by their gods in war, he lists the various classes of people carried off to slavery; thus, there is no longer a return of offerings or worship in the temple for the benefit of the gods.202

A haunt for jackals (44:19). One of the images used in Mesopotamian city laments is the habitation of the fallen city by wild animals, as in the Lament for Ur: “Foxholes are verily made therein.”203

Spread out our hands (44:20). This posture of prayer is illustrated in ancient Near Eastern iconography, perhaps symbolizing the desire to receive from the deity. Egyptian art in the tomb of Horemheb, a fourteenth-century pharaoh, depicts fugitives of famine seeking aid by lifting their spread hands toward one of his officials.204 Some of the petitioners have thrown themselves to the ground (cf. 44:25).

Egyptian priest stretching out hands in prayer

Rama/Wikimedia Commons, courtesy of the Louvre

Awake, O Lord! (44:23). The psalmist does not, of course, think that Yahweh needs waking (121:4). Rather, he is using a metaphor to call on God to arise for action (78:65). The painful cry of desperation can lead to honest outbursts; an Egyptian work lamenting the downfall of society utilizes the same image for their chief deity, the sun god: “Is he asleep? Lo, his power is not seen.”205 Elijah used this metaphor to taunt the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel (1 Kings 18:27). The intimacy of the psalmist with God, whom he addresses directly in such a manner, is striking.

Psalm 45

Pen of a skillful writer (45:1). The scribe was one of the most respected professionals in the ancient world. One scribal exercise in Egypt boasts: “Writing for him who knows it is better than all other professions…. Your heart discerns, your fingers are skilled, your mouth is apt for reciting.”206 The Sumerian and Akkadian scribes wrote: “The scribal art is the mother of the eloquent.”207 A fifth-century B.C. Aramaic wisdom text opens with the claim: “These are the words of one named Aḥiqar, a wise and experienced scribe” (“experienced,” māhîr, the same word as “skillful” in 45:1; cf. Ezra 7:6).208

Panel from the mastaba of Hesire, Chief of the Royal Scribes of King Zoser. Scribal tools are in his left hand.

Werner Forman Archive/The Egyptian Museum, Cairo

In Mesopotamia, scribes wrote on clay tablets or wax boards by pressing their stylus into the soft writing medium to make the marks; in Egypt scribes used a brush to paint on papyrus or other writing surfaces. Similar to Egypt, Israelite scribes wrote on papyrus or leather using an ink pen, which was rather like a thin brush (a pointed reed split on the end to retain ink).209 In Psalm 45, the poet likens the composition and oral performance of this song (his “tongue”) to the “pen” of a skillful scribe, a song of beauty befitting the occasion of the king’s wedding.

Your lips (45:2). Ancient descriptions of kings emphasized their grandeur and eloquence. One court official speaks to the Egyptian king, Merenptah (ca. 1200 B.C.), “How beautiful the day is near you, how welcome is your voice in speaking.”210 Another pharaoh is described as “a master of wisdom, excellent in counsel, brilliant in his use of words.”211

Gird your sword (45:3). The king in both Mesopotamia and Egypt was the guardian of divine order on earth. A well-ordered society (cf. “truth, humility and righteousness,” 45:4) depended on a valiant king. Therefore, his prowess as a warrior was essential, and any ideal portrait of the king presented him in military splendor. This is graphically portrayed in the palace reliefs of Assurbanipal, which show him conquering enemies, both human and animal, on his chariot (cf. “ride forth victoriously,” 45:4), thereby bringing order to the kingdom.

Ashurnasirpal with sword in belt during lion hunt

Caryn Reeder, courtesy of the British Museum

An Egyptian royal text from about 1900 B.C. presents the king as one who brought order to the kingdom by his military might: “I had assigned everything to its place. I subdued lions, I captured crocodiles, I repressed those of Wawat, I captured the Medjai, I made the Asiatics do the dog walk.”212 The imagery of a royal warrior in Psalm 45 is parallel to descriptions of a divine warrior (see comments on Ps. 18), which reinforces the metaphor of the king in 45:6 as God’s representative, especially in his “splendor and majesty” (cf. 96:6; 104:1; 145:5).

This fearsome aura is a common description of kings on military campaign. Sennacherib (c. 700 B.C.) reported that his enemies were overwhelmed by the “terrors of the splendors of my sovereignty.”213 His son Esarhaddon (ca. 680 B.C.) described how the god Nergal bestowed on him “awesome radiance and splendor.”214 A similar manner of speech was used in Egypt: Ramesses II (ca. 1270 B.C.) likens his fury and aura in combat to that of the gods.215 For the phrase “nations fall beneath your feet” (45:4), see comments on 110:1.

Your throne, O God (45:6). The NIV capitalizes “God,” suggesting that the psalmist turns the address to God at this point. However, throughout the context, the king is the addressee. In what sense can the king be called “god”? By virtue of his divine appointment, the king in the ancient Near East stood before his subjects as a representative of the divine realm. An Assyrian official writes to his king, “The well-known proverb says: ‘Man is a shadow of god’ … ‘The king is the perfect likeness of the god.’ ”216 The Egyptian Seti I (ca. 1300 B.C.) addressed the future rulers of Egypt, “You are like divinities, a king is counted among the gods.”217 Egyptian texts often referred to the king as “god.”218

While the king of Egypt was thought to be divine, this was not the case in Mesopotamia or Israel. In Israel he was “adopted” as God’s son (see the sidebar “Divine Sonship” at Ps. 2). In fact, the term “gods” (ʾ elōhîm) is used of priests who functioned as judges in the Israelite temple judicial system (Ex. 21:6; 22:8–9; see comments on 58:1; 82:6–7).

A scepter of justice (45:6). As God’s representative, the king was responsible to enact justice for the benefit of his land (see comment on 72:1). The throne was the seat from which the king dispensed justice; the close relationship between throne, scepter, and judging is illustrated in a Ugaritic text using the same terms found in this verse (“seat [ksʾ, throne] of kingship” coupled with “scepter of rule [or judgeship]”).219 Pairing together “love of justice” and “hatred of wickedness” is common in ancient texts extolling ideal virtue (cf. Amos 5:15).220 The empowerment to act on God’s behalf is symbolized by anointing (v. 7; see comment on 2:2), which was part of the ritual on such a joyful occasion.

All your robes are fragrant with myrrh (45:8). Myrrh, used in oil as well as dried for incense, is an oily resin from the branches of a tree native to Arabia. Aloe was from trees native to East Africa and India. Cassia was produced by steaming the leaves of a tree from as far away as East Asia.221 Thus, not only are perfumes appropriate for such a special occasion as a wedding (cf. Est. 2:12), but because they are precious trade commodities, the mention of these spices stresses the success and prosperity of the king.

Ivory inlay from Nimrud shows a warrior in ceremonial dress.

Werner Forman Archive/The Iraq Museum, Baghdad

Adorned with ivory (45:8). The walls and furnishings of rich homes and palaces were inlaid with ivory decorations (cf. 1 Kings 22:39; Amos 3:15; 6:4). These were intricately designed and displayed the most sophisticated craftsmanship in the ancient world. The Assyrian king Sennacherib (ca. 700 B.C.) boasted of the palace he had built in Nineveh: “Thereon I had them build a palace of ivory … the ‘Palace without a Rival,’ for my royal abode.”222 “Palace of ivory” here (ekal šin), is parallel to Psalm 45:8 (hêkal šēn). The splendor of the king’s attire and his royal abode was matched by the beauty of his bride, adorned in the “gold of Ophir” (v. 9; the finest of gold [Isa. 13:12] from a location not yet identified with certainty).223

Forget your people (45:10). Usually a bride left her parent’s house to join her husband, residing in or near his home. One Sumerian bridal song bids the young woman to regard her father and mother as a “stranger” in order to join her groom in his household.224 A text from the northern Mesopotamian city of Emar describes the rituals for consecrating a high priestess in marriage to the storm god, which may reflect broader wedding customs. In the ceremony, the new priestess is adorned with jewelry (cf. Isa. 61:10) and special attire as she proceeds from her father’s house with maidens to the temple of her god-groom.225 It is significant that a ceremonial weapon is carried in this procession, just as military symbols are part of the king’s attire in Psalm 45:3.

The accompaniment of maidens is mentioned in other Mesopotamian texts as well.226 But aside from cultural parallels regarding wedding customs, this psalm has little in common with the so-called “sacred marriage” texts of Mesopotamia, which celebrate a religious union between the king and a goddess.

The Daughter of Tyre (45:12). The term “daughter” can refer to the people who reside in the named location (cf. Isa. 47:1; Zeph. 3:14). The city of Tyre, a prominent merchant city on the coast of Phoenicia, was associated with the epitome of wealth (Ezek. 27:1–33), so the magnitude of honor is underscored by the lavish gifts given the bridal couple.

Your sons (45:16). The success of a king’s dynasty depends on the royal couple’s ability to produce heirs. This was an important part of divine blessing expressed in prophetic promises to kings (see comment on 132:11). Assyrian prophets announced to the king: “Your son and grandson shall rule as kings.”227 The royal residence as a place where generations of princes are born is illustrated in a description by Assurbanipal: “[the palace] where Sennacherib, my grandfather, lived as king and exercised kingship, and where Esarhaddon, my father, was born, raised, exercised kingship over Assyria, (where) all the royal household served (?), (where) the family expanded.”228

Psalm 46

Though the earth give way (46:2). In Old Testament geography, the earth was thought to be set on pillars that reached to the bottom of the subterranean ocean, where the mountains were rooted as well (see comment on 104:5; cf. Jonah 2:6). The word picture here of the earth and its mountains collapsing into the sea is equivalent to an undoing of this fundamental structure of creation, separation of land and sea (Gen. 1:9–10). The ancient Israelites appreciated fully the destructive potential of earthquakes (Amos 1:1; 8:8), so the allusions in this psalm are not purely cosmological. The psalmist imagines the most catastrophic disaster that might challenge the faith of those trusting in God.

Waters roar (46:3). Keeping with the imagery of “creation undone,” the psalmist describes the sea as violent water, which may allude to Yamm, the chaos monster of Ugaritic mythology (see the sidebar “The Baal Epic” at 29:3; also 74:12–15; 89:9–10; 93:3–4; 104:26).

River whose streams (46:4). In some contexts, the word for “river” is synonymous with the dangerous sea mentioned in the previous verse (cf. Jonah 2:3, where “currents” is the same word for “river”). The god Yamm (“Sea”) is also called “Judge River.”229 The contrast could not be more striking here. “River” is qualified by the word “stream,” which connotes peaceful, controlled, life-giving water (Ps. 1:3; Prov. 21:1; Isa. 32:2). In Ugaritic myth, the mountain palace of the chief god, El, is located at “the source of the rivers,” where one appeals for favor.230 A portrait of Nineveh depicts channels of water flowing through the garden area of the temple (cf. comments on 87:7; cf. also Ezek. 47:1–12).231

Waters flowing by shrine in Assyrian relief

Kim Walton, courtesy of the Oriental Institute Museum

She will not fall (46:5). In the theology of Sumerian city laments (see the sidebar “City Laments” at Ps. 74), as long as the city deity lived in his or her temple, the city was invulnerable to attack. A lament for the city of Ur speaks of the god’s temple within the city as “the lofty, untouchable mountain.”232 After abandonment, the city was destroyed, and the god’s consort stands outside the city to watch its destruction (cf. Ezek. 10).233

Nations are in uproar (46:6). Using the same word for the roaring of the sea in verse 3, the psalmist refers to the threat of enemy nations. Hence, the nations are likened to the forces of chaos. Associating enemy nations with conditions of chaos is illustrated also in the Egyptian Prophecies of Neferti (ca. 1960 B.C.).234 In a reversal on chaos, however, the psalmist depicts the fall of these “kingdoms” with the same word as he used for the mountains’ fall in verse 2. The threat of chaos alluded to in the imagery of verses 2–3 is turned on the nations themselves, who may rise up like the sea against God’s city.

Be still (46:10). This verse might record a direct speech from God given to a temple priest or prophet (see comment on 50:7). However, because of its brevity, it is more likely the citation of a well-known prophetic saying (cf. Hab. 2:20). The force of this command is probably directed to the worshiping community, which is encouraged to rest in God’s power to save them from warfare (cf. Ps. 37:7).

In this respect, it is similar to the command of the Assyrian prophet to Esarhaddon (ca. 680 B.C.), who was encouraged at the end of a civil war to rest in the help of his goddess, Ishtar: “As for you, keep silent, Esarhaddon! … Well sheltered is Esarhaddon.”235 Silence before God also shows reverence, as illustrated in an Assyrian hymn to Marduk in which the other gods bow in silence: “They kneel before him, and the gods who begot him repose in silence at his feet.”236

Psalm 47

Clap your hands (47:1). In accompaniment to music and dance, people would clap their hands in festive processions. A relief of Assurbanipal (ca. 645 B.C.) shows men, women, and children following the musicians and clapping hands in a procession to celebrate the enthronement of an ally after victory over the Elamites.237

Egyptian relief shows one person clapping hands while another dances.

Kim Walton, courtesy of the Oriental Institute Museum

The great King (47:2). See comments on 97:5; 99:1.

He subdued nations (47:3). Because of the echo of this line in the next verse, the historical allusion is to the conquest under Joshua when God delivered Canaan to Israel as an inheritance (see comments on 105:11). The placement of enemies under one’s foot is a common theme in ancient Near Eastern texts (see comment on 110:1). The coronation inscription of Pharaoh Horemheb (ca. 1300 B.C.) equates the placement of the foreign nations under the king’s feet with assigning to him the land of his rightful rule.238

Nubian captives portrayed under the feet of Pharaoh at Abu Simbel

Eric Baker

God has ascended (47:5). This is likely an allusion to a procession up to the holy mountain where God’s temple and throne were located (see comments on 48:1–3; 68:24; 132:8). The “trumpet” here is the ram’s horn blown on special occasions (see comment on 150:3).

God is seated (47:8). The Jerusalem temple was the earthly palace of God, and the ark was the footstool of his throne on which he was “seated” (cf. 80:1; see comment on 132:8). The posture of sitting suggests God’s readiness to issue commands (29:10–11) and dispense judgment (9:4–5; Dan. 7:9). Ancient Near Eastern art frequently illustrates the custom of kings and deities sitting for official duty—for example, receiving people who come to render homage (48:9).239 In one of the Sumerian city laments (see the sidebar “City Laments” at Ps. 74), the goddess calls her temple “my seat of kingship.”240 For Yahweh’s kingship, see comment on 99:1.

Psalm 48

The city of our God (48:1). As the site of the temple, Jerusalem was the dwelling of God (vv. 3, 9; cf. 46:4).

Mt. Zaphon

John Monson

His holy mountain … heights of Zaphon (48:1–2). In ancient Canaan the highest mountains, particularly those in the north, were considered sacred places and appropriate locations for temples, since the top was the closest contact point between earth and the heavens (see the sidebar “Hymns to Holy Cities”; also “Sacred Space” at Ps. 84). This tradition is best illustrated in texts discovered at a northern Mediterranean coastal city of Ugarit. In these texts, the major deities (El, Baal, and Anat) each had their own sacred mountain for a home.241

The most striking parallel to 48:2 is in the tradition about Baal, whose mountain was Zaphon (Ugar. ṣpn = Heb. ṣāpôn). The texts describe Mount Zaphon as Baal’s “beautiful hill,” “inheritance,” “holy mountain,” and “lovely, mighty mountain.”242 When Jeroboam built a temple site in northern Israel to rival the temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 12:25–33), he chose the city of Dan because it was located near Mount Hermon, a sacred site left over from the Canaanites and the idolatrous Danites of the period of the judges (Judg. 18). The Hittites, who lived in the mountainous region of what is today Turkey, often depicted their gods standing on the top of mountains.243 Even in the plains of Mesopotamia where no mountains existed, the inhabitants built ziggurats to facilitate access between the temple and heaven.244

This background helps explain the importance of God’s mountain in the Old Testament. Such a prominent location was expected for any deity’s dwelling. So the temple was on a prominent hilltop in Jerusalem, in some texts called Mount Zion (2:6; 99:2, 9). Jerusalem itself was located at a higher elevation than much of the surrounding region. While the Hebrew word translated Zaphon can mean the direction “north,” the parallel to the Baal myth is striking. It is as though the psalmist were claiming for Yahweh the divine right to Baal’s “inheritance.”

An association between Yahweh and mountains is illustrated in other texts. Israel’s experience of meeting God at Mount Sinai (Ex. 19–34) left an impression, so that biblical texts speak of Yahweh’s coming from mountains in the south (Deut. 33:2; Hab. 3:3). Yahweh’s identification with Mount Teman (Hab. 3:3) is also evident from Hebrew inscriptions found at a southern desert, trading outpost (Kuntillet ʿAjrud) dating ca. 800 B.C.245 This complements the interpretation of Psalm 48:2 that the psalmist claims supremacy for Yahweh at every sacred space (see comment on 89:12).

Citadels (48:3). The psalmist associates God’s presence in the city with protection (cf. 46:5). A fortified city had exterior walls that constituted the first line of defense. Within these walls, the palace and temple complex were fortified further as a position of defense in the event the walls were breached (1 Kings 16:18).246 The word picture here is that Yahweh in his temple is the ultimate defense for the city.

Destroyed … like ships of Tarshish (48:7). The psalmist recalls some event from the city’s collective memory when Yahweh intervened to deliver the city, perhaps similar to the destruction of Sennacherib’s army (2 Kings 19:32–36). The vulnerability of an army attacking Jerusalem is likened to ships bound for Tarshish that are destroyed in a great storm. Travel to this distant place in the western Mediterranean was a hazardous sea voyage (Ezek. 27:25–26).

Walk about Zion (48:12). An imaginary tour in a city and praise for its features and life within its walls are a feature of ancient Near Eastern city hymns. The Assyrian Hymn to the City of Arbela states: “Shrine of Arbela, lofty hostel, broad temple, sanctuary of delights…. Its foundations are as firm as the heavens. The pinnacles of Arbela are lofty.”247 A hymn to the city of Assur intones: “On your right and on your left, while traversing the streets of his [the god, Aššur’s] city … wherever we enter there is abundance and prosperity!”248 Here, the psalmist invites anyone to marvel at the splendor of Jerusalem, which evokes praise of Yahweh, its builder (v. 14).

City of Astartu with walls and towers in relief of Tiglath-pileser III

Todd Bolen/www.BiblePlaces.com

Psalm 49

All you peoples (49:1). While some psalms address all of humanity based on the kingship of Yahweh (see comment on 97:5), here the psalmist calls out in the name of wisdom (see also 78:1–2). The universal appeal of wisdom is demonstrated by the internationally shared forms and content of wisdom literature across the ancient Near East.249 Since piety is not foreign to wisdom, even among the other nations, the merger of the two in the religious devotion of a psalmist is natural.250 In an Egyptian prayer to the scribal god Thoth, the worshiper makes the acquisition of wisdom the central theme.251

With the harp (49:4). Poetry by its very nature is lyrical, so the harp accompanied poetry in all its forms, whether hymnic (see the sidebar “Music” at Ps. 96; discussion of instruments at Ps. 150), prophetic (2 Kings 3:15), or as here, didactic (wisdom) poetry. The vehicle of music amplifies the impact of the lyrics, particularly at an emotional level.

Harp player

Z. Radovan/www.BibleLandPictures.com

David’s service of music to Saul is testimony to this cultural expectation (1 Sam. 16:14–16), as is the calling of a “songstress” to sooth the anxiety of the hero of the Egyptian tale The Report of Wenamun (ca. 1100 B.C.).252 Not coincidentally, the Egyptian Instruction of Amenemope comes from one who is “the son of the sistrum-player [a percussion instrument] … and chief songstress.”253 In this wisdom psalm, the force of the proverb/riddle (see Prov. 1:6; Ps. 78:2) is driven with music.

No man can … live on forever (49:7–9). The quest for immortality was a vital concern in ancient Near Eastern culture. The earliest literary story, the Epic of Gilgamesh (perhaps ca. 1800 B.C. from sources originating in the third millennium B.C.) features this quest as its central, unifying theme.254 After the death of his dear friend Enkidu, Gilgamesh seeks counsel from the Mesopotamian flood hero, who with his wife are the only humans ever granted immortality by the gods. Gilgamesh is told that their circumstances were unique and that no one can convene the assembly of the gods to grant him the immortality he seeks.255

In the Ugaritic legend of King Aqhat (ca. 1300 B.C.), the monarch declines a deceptive offer of eternal life by the goddess Anat: “In the end a man gets what? A man gets what as his fate? … the death of all I shall die, I too shall die and be dead.”256 See comments on 90:3, 10.

Wise men die … their tombs will remain (49:10–11). The reality that death overcomes everyone regardless of one’s station in life is reflected in the Egyptian songs of the harper that adorned tombs in the New Kingdom period (ca. 1550 B.C. to 1100 B.C.). One harpist’s song observes: “And those [the dead] who built their mansions—and tombs—all, all are at rest in their graves. So build a great home in the land of the dead that your name may endure because of it.”257 Another song mentions the enduring reputation of the famous Egyptian wise man Imhotep, who designed the first pyramid. Yet the song adds that even his tomb no longer remains.258

Imhotep

Kim Walton, courtesy of the Art Institute of Chicago

Death will feed on them (49:14). The common observation that the human body decays to dust in the grave gave rise to imagery of the earth swallowing and consuming a corpse. Similarly, Canaanite mythology described the god Mot (“Death”) in terms of an opening in the earth that “swallows” and “consumes.” Before the battle between Mot and Baal, the god of death boasts: “Does my appetite consume like an ass? So will I truly eat with both my hands.”259 For “grave,” see the sidebar “Death and the Underworld” at Ps. 30.

God will redeem (49:15). The Mesopotamians believed their gods could deliver them from what appeared to be certain death. In The Prayer of the Righteous Sufferer, a thanksgiving hymn to Marduk, the singer declares: “Marduk can restore life from the grave, Sarpanitum [Marduk’s consort] knows how to rescue from annihilation.”260 The parallelism in these two lines of poetry certifies that restoration from the grave is not bodily resurrection from death; rather, it is deliverance from the onset of death (“annihilation”). Another Mesopotamian hymn speaks in similar terms of Marduk delivering the poet from sickness leading to death.261

Some Old Testament psalms also address this sort of physical salvation (see comment on 16:10). But the idea in 49:15 is different. In the context of the psalm, the poet speaks of the general reality of physical death for everyone, including himself; thus, the hope of redemption from the grave refers to the eternal experience of God’s presence beyond the grave.

The dominant belief in Egyptian religion also affirmed an afterlife.262 The Egyptian Book of the Dead provided hymns, prayers, and magical incantations on a scroll to accompany the deceased into the netherworld. In one scroll, the deity assures the deceased: “You shall go forth to the sky, travel across the firmament, be brothers to the stars…. You shall see Re [the sun god] within his shrine, and you shall give his sundisk pleasure every day.”263

Never see the light (49:19). Mesopotamians believed in continued existence after death, but it was not “life” in any sense of the term. The deceased were thought to become shadows or ghosts existing in an underworld of darkness. The mythological text Descent of Ishtar to the Netherworld describes going to the underworld: “To the house whose entrants are bereft of light, where dust is their sustenance and clay their food, they see no light but dwell in darkness.”264

Ishtar’s Descent to the Netherworld in which the goddess has to pass through seven gates into a land with no light

Todd Bolen/www.BiblePlaces.com

The Egyptian notion was more positive. They thought of the afterlife as dwelling in the presence of the sun god, the source of light. In Old Testament faith, to be in God’s presence meant both light and life (36:9), hence the qualifying words supplied by the NIV in brackets. For the one who lacks understanding, 49:19 warns of a fate cast in terms similar to the Mesopotamian underworld.

Psalm 50

Zion, perfect in beauty (50:2). See the sidebar “Hymns to Holy Cities” at Psalm 48.

God shines forth (50:2–3). The description of God in these verses recalls his appearance in a storm on Mount Sinai when he spoke the words of the covenant to which the psalmist alludes throughout this psalm (Ex. 19–24). It connotes the terrifying manifestation of a divine warrior (in Deut. 33:2, Yahweh “shines forth” with his army of holy angels; see also comments on Ps. 18:7–12).

This notion of radiant splendor and awe-inspiring sheen surrounding a deity is a common Mesopotamian expression.265 In the Epic of Creation, when the god Marduk waged war against the forces of chaos, his head “was covered with terrifying auras,” a description also used of the fierce dragons he opposed.266 This same description was frequently used of Assyrian kings in battle: “The terrifying splendor of my [Sennacherib’s] lordship overwhelmed him [Hezekiah].”267 The important point of this imagery for Psalm 50 is that when God calls people together to speak his word or exercise judgment, his authority is backed by an awesome nature.

He summons (50:4). In the ancient Near East, covenants between people were sworn before deities, who then served as witnesses to bind the agreement. Sometimes elements of nature were also invoked, including heaven and earth (Deut. 4:26).268 Perhaps for Israel, where these elements were not deified, the stability and relative eternality of the heavens and the earth rendered them fit symbols for the durability of the covenant obligations. This rhetorical device is used by Old Testament prophets (Isa. 1:2; Deut. 32:1).

Covenant … by sacrifice (50:5). After oaths bound a covenant, the agreement was ratified by sacrifice (Gen. 31:44–54; Ex. 24:3–8). This common ancient custom is illustrated by an eighth-century B.C. Aramaic covenant from Syria in which animals were cut in half.269

Hear, O my people (50:7). Psalm 50 is prophetic speech introduced by the description of God’s appearance (vv. 1–4) and continued with the speech formula (v. 16). Such prophetic words are not uncommon in the psalms (2:6–9; 12:5; 60:6–8; 75:2–10; 81:6–16; 82:1–8; 89:19–37; 91:14–16; 95:7b–11; 110:1–7; 132:11–18). Thus, one might conclude that prophetic ministry was active in the Israelite temple, as it was among Israel’s neighbors, with parts of prophetic speeches recorded in the psalms.270 The prophetic address used in this verse is similar to the form used by temple prophets in seventh-century B.C. Assyria: “Listen, O Assyrians!”271 It echoes Old Testament prophetic calls (Isa. 1:10; 28:14; 48:1; Jer. 2:4; 10:1; Amos 3:1; 4:1; Mic. 3:1, 9).

Burnt offerings (50:8). See comments on 51:16.

Do I eat? (50:13). Among Israel’s neighbors, part of the concept of an offering was that it fed the gods. Mesopotamian and Egyptian hymns credit the chief god with providing agricultural produce as meals for other gods.272 In Mesopotamian myth, humans were created to bear the labor of tending orchards and fields that provide food for offerings.273 So priests were largely occupied with the “care and feeding of the gods.”274

Cattle and other animals on offering table before deity

Lenka Peacock

One of the best illustrations of this is the Mesopotamian flood story recounted in the Epic of Gilgamesh. During the flood, when no humans were on land to make offerings, the gods became hungry. Consequently, after the flood waters receded and the Mesopotamian “Noah” built an altar for sacrifices, “the gods did smell the savour, the gods did smell the savour sweet, the gods gathered like flies around the man making the sacrifice.”275

A Hittite prayer (ca. 1300 B.C.) invites the goddess to draw near, being enticed by the fresh aroma of the sacrifice: “Let the sweet odor … summon you. Return to your temple! … be pacified [i.e., satisfied] and listen.”276 Among the Canaanites, Baal is the one who “fattens gods and men”; that is, he provides fertility for crops and livestock that become offerings.277 In the Ugaritic royal stories Kirta and Aqhat, the sacrifices of the king to the gods are called “food.”278

The Old Testament also suggests that sacrifices and drink offerings are food for God (Lev. 3:11, 16; Num. 28:2; Judg. 9:13). However, unlike the Mesopotamian texts noted above, Psalm 50 categorically denies that God needs these sacrifices for his survival. Rather, sacrifices were symbolic meals that allowed worshipers the opportunity to give something to God and enhance fellowship, as well as provide a means of atonement. This emphasis is evident in 50:14, which commands the sacrifice of thank offerings as a fulfillment of vows (see comments on 56:12). See also the sidebar “Sin and Sacrifice in the Ancient Near East” at Psalm 51.