FOR THE DIRECTOR of music. Of the Sons of Korah. According to alamoth. A song.
1God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.
Selah
4There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
5God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
6Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
7The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Selah
8Come and see the works of the LORD,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
9He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear,
he burns the shields with fire.
10“Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
11The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
Selah
Original Meaning
THIS IS A psalm of radical trust in the face of overwhelming threat. While the specific cause of threat is never clarified, it does seem to have to do with the uproar of pagan nations (46:6) and wars that Yahweh brings to an end (46:9). The psalm has a more universal tone, beginning with the cosmic, mythic turmoil of chaotic waters before creation (46:2–3) and continuing to Yahweh’s ending of wars “to the ends of the earth” (46:9). Throughout all this threat and upheaval, God is—as the psalm insists from the opening lines—“our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” Although this psalm stands within the so-called Elohistic Psalter, the divine name Yahweh appears three times in this short psalm (vv. 7, 8, 11). The first and last of these are in the repeated refrain, while the second is part of the call to trust Yahweh that begins the final section of the psalm.
Psalm 46 breaks fairly easily into three sections, the latter two marked by a repeated refrain and all three exhibiting a concluding selah.1 Thematically these sections include a radical trust expressed in cosmic, mythic terms (46:1–3), an assurance of Yahweh’s protective presence (46:4–7), and a call to trust Yahweh who causes wars to cease (46:8–11).
The Heading (46:0)
THE HEADING OF Psalm 46 directs the psalm to “the director of music”2 and is attributed to the “Sons of Korah,” the fourth consecutive psalm (considering Pss. 42–43 as a single composition) to do so. In addition, the heading includes a probable song tune (ʿal ʿalamot)3 and concludes with the general genre designation šir4 (“song”).
Radical Trust in Yahweh (46:1–3)
THE OPENING SECTION affirms a radical trust in the protective strength of God in terms that hark back to the theme of “refuge” especially characteristic of psalms in Book 1 of the Psalter,5 but also found throughout the Psalter. The ideas of God’s providing “strength” (ʿoz) and being a “fortress” (miśgab) are related in the earlier appearance of this theme as well as in this psalm (“strength,” 46:1; “fortress,” 46:7, 11). He is described as an “ever-present help,” which in Hebrew (nimṣaʾ meʾod) means something like a help that “can be found when you need it.”
The radical confidence of the psalmist is exhibited in an ability to stand without fear in the face of what constitutes a threat of uncreation. In the ancient Israelite cosmology (cf. Gen. 1 and elsewhere in the Old Testament), Yahweh established the stable environment for human existence—the earth—at creation by an act of sovereign control and limitation of chaotic waters. He established an orderly universe by creating and enforcing boundaries for these waters so that dry land appeared as a place where humans and land animals could live.6
The Flood (Gen. 6–9) threatened to dissolve creation order into precreation chaos by allowing these restricted waters to exceed and ultimately erase their established boundaries. Similarly here in Psalm 46, human existence would be threatened with dissolution if the roaring, surging seas and waters were able to topple (mwṭ)7 the mountains into the sea so that the earth would “give way.”8 In the Mesopotamia account of the Flood, the gods cower in fear behind the walls of their heavenly abode as the chaotic waters—unleashed in a fit of pique against humans—threaten to destroy the gods as well. In Psalm 46, however, the psalmist claims a confident trust in Yahweh that allows contemplation of the ultimate destruction of creation without fear.
God’s Protective Presence (46:4–7)
THE MOOD OF the poem changes noticeably as we move beyond the first selah into the second section of the psalm. From the roar of the rushing waters tearing at the coastline and toppling mountains, we come to the more peaceful description of the well-watered “city of God” (46:4). The river is almost placid by contrast to the raging waters of the previous verses. Rather than destruction, this river offers rejoicing through the irrigation canals drawn from its main channel.9 The contrast must be intentional and heightens both the sense of threat in the first stanza and the countering calm of the second.
The city of God is clearly a reference in the psalmist’s mind to Jerusalem,10 and the “holy place where the Most High dwells” is the temple. The promised presence of Yahweh in and with Jerusalem is a source of renewed confidence for Israel—even in the face of the onslaught of attacking enemies (46:6). “God is within her, she will not fall” is an assertion of absolute confidence that could be misleading if not coupled with covenant loyalty and obedience. Jeremiah calls his contemporary Jerusalemites to task for assuming too much when they rely on the temple to save them, crying, “The temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD!” (Jer. 7:2–15), as if the mere presence of the temple was a talisman to ward off evil rather than a place to humbly meet and worship God (cf. Pss. 74 and 137, where the destruction and loss of Jerusalem and the temple are very real experiences).
However, with this obvious caveat in mind, the psalmist affirms that unlike the mountains in 46:2 that topple (bemoṭ) into the sea, the city of God bolstered by his saving presence “will not fall” (bal timmoṭ). Since God is an “ever-present help” (46:1), he will help her quickly (the apparent emphasis of “at break of day”). Like the surging waters in the opening verses (yehemu [“they roar”]), nations may raise an uproar (hamu),11 but kingdoms fall before the withering voice of Yahweh (46:6.
This second section of the psalm concludes with the first statement of a refrain repeated at the end of the psalm: “The LORD Almighty12 is with us, the God of Jacob is our fortress” (46:7, 11). The emphasis on the presence of Yahweh with his people as “fortress” (miśgab) links back to the opening affirmation (46:1) that Yahweh is refuge, strength, and “ever-present help.”13
Trusting Yahweh (46:8–11)
THIS FINAL SECTION continues the theme of trust in Yahweh introduced at the beginning of the psalm (46:1) and renewed in the first refrain (46:7). The invitation to “come and see the works of the LORD” introduces a series of affirmingly parallel lines describing militant actions with an edge of violence. These acts have the effect of making “wars cease [šbt]”14 throughout the earth (46:9) by destroying the necessary implements of war (here symbolized by “bow,” “arrow,” and “shields”).15 These works of God are reasons for horror to those who want to rule the earth with military might.
Be still, and know that I am God. The voice of the triumphant warrior God breaks into the scene in the first person, challenging foe and faithful alike. God’s demand—“Cease! Desist!” (or perhaps the military counterpart, “Attention!”)—calls all combatants to stop their fighting and pay attention. Only when they stop their struggles can they acknowledge that Yahweh is God (46:10). Yahweh proclaims his exalted status (“I will be exalted”) before all present. His exaltation is to be complete: among the “nations” (goyim) and in the whole “earth” (ʾareṣ).
The LORD Almighty is with us. The psalm concludes with the repetition of the refrain, driving home the primary theme of the psalm: Yahweh is indeed the refuge, strength, and fortress of the faithful, who can remain confident in his protective care—even in the face of a crumbling world (46:2–3) or rampant military attack (46:8–9).
Bridging Contexts
THE CITY OF GOD. Reference to “the city of God” (or of Yahweh) occurs only seven times in the whole Old Testament; all but one of these appearances occur within the Psalter, and four within Book 2 (Pss. 42–72).16 The city of God/Yahweh is clearly identified in Psalm 48: “As we have heard, so have we seen in the city of the LORD Almighty, in the city of our God” (48:8); in this psalm we also learn that the city is identified with “[God’s] holy mountain . . . Mount Zion” (48:1–2), an obvious reference to Jerusalem.
Because Jerusalem is Yahweh’s special city, he is expected to protect her and her inhabitants from attack. According to 48:3, “God is in her citadels; he has shown himself to be her fortress.” Although the city is itself a fortified place, God is the ultimate place of security, who will protect his city and its inhabitants. This view was especially important in relation to the growing sense of invulnerability that seems to have grown up in the Zion theology of Jerusalem.
Based on promises like that expressed in 48:8—“As we have heard, so have we seen in the city of the LORD Almighty, in the city of our God: God makes her secure forever”—some Judahites refused to accept the possibility that Jerusalem could be conquered by foreign troops. Jeremiah’s sermon at the temple was directed at precisely this sort of false hope: “Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD!” (Jer. 7:4). Those who trusted in the invulnerability of Jerusalem because it was the site of Yahweh’s temple would be sadly disappointed when he allowed Babylonian troops to overrun the temple and Jerusalem because of the sins of the covenant people.
The destruction of Jerusalem and the temple was a painful moment of identity crisis for those carried into exile by the Babylonians. The pain of loss continues to echo in the agonized cry of Psalm 137:5–6: “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill. May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not consider Jerusalem my highest joy.”17 Even in the Exile Jerusalem was held in such great esteem that it became the focus of pilgrimage from the far reaches of the Diaspora at great cost and greater risk to life and limb.18 Jerusalem became the spiritual center of a nation scattered among all the nations.
The esteem of Jerusalem and the theological struggle to explain how the promises of eternal protection and care such as in 48:8 could stand alongside the destruction of both temple and city led ultimately to the vision of the eschatological “new Jerusalem.” Ezekiel envisioned an eschatological restoration of people, land, city, and temple (Ezek. 37–48). Other prophets contributed to this growing eschatological expectation.19 Jerusalem will become the gathering place where the nations of the world will learn of Yahweh and his law (Jer. 3:17). The city will be rebuilt into a thriving center and will never fear destruction again: “It will be inhabited; never again will it be destroyed. Jerusalem will be secure” (Zech. 14:11).
This hope for return and restoration is, of course, central to the eschatological hopes of Diaspora Judaism and its messianic hopes. The Messiah, a descendant of the Davidic line, would defeat Israel’s enemies and usher in the kingdom of God, in which a restored Jerusalem would provide the center from which God’s reign would go forth over all the earth. In Christian circles, as this vision of the Messiah was attached to the dying and rising Jesus, the future hope for the restored city of God was spiritualized even further to become an experience of God that is outside time and space. Revelation takes up this theme once again as the combined Testaments come to their close: “And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God” (Rev. 21:10).20
Contemporary Significance
HE MAKES WARS TO CEASE. This passage makes it clear that God judges those who make war on the earth and that his ultimate goal and plan is to make “wars cease to the ends of the earth.” We sometimes get so caught up in our just-war theories and what we see as the necessity of fighting fire with fire, pragmatically using violence to put down what we see as greater violence, using the ways of the world in our attempts to bring God’s kingdom closer, that we forget that war and its violent consequences are not a part of the world that God intends.
This will not be an antiwar tract—although I do think that the Quakers, with whom I have been associated for the last fourteen years, have a radical peace testimony that needs to be heard. But I do want all of us to listen carefully to the condemnation of war this passage brings, and I want us all to realize that when we participate in war, we are not participating in God’s creation intention but something that grew out of human sin and disobedience. We are not even participating in something that will last—wars will cease to the ends of the earth!
Be still. There are many ways to say “be still” in the Old Testament—a variety of Hebrew words are translated in this way.21 But the term used in 46:10 (rph) has the sense of “cease and desist,” like a parent separating two struggling children or a teacher breaking up a fight in the schoolyard. It does not mean to be quiet or calm as much as it means to stop what you have been doing and be still. Only when we cease our own frantic activity can we begin to experience God’s acting for us. Only then, says the psalmist, can we know that he is God.
We will not fear though the earth give way. Psalm 46 begins with lack of fear in the face of the dissolution of the world and ends with confident stillness in the face of rampaging wars to the ends of the earth. In between lies the reason for this calmness—the place of eternal standing where God himself dwells, the fortress God provides, the city of God that will not fall (46:4–5). This kind of confidence is remarkable. We are not talking about confidence in the face of minor disturbances or setbacks here. Nor are we thinking of major, painful life losses—the death of a loved one, horrific degenerating disease, and the like.
As terrible as these may be, they pale in significance before the fearful prospect the psalmist portrays. What he describes is not just an earthquake such as have recently devastated parts of the world. It is rather the dissolution of the world and life as we know it in what amounts to a moment of uncreation. At creation, God placed boundaries on the chaotic waters, restricting them so that dry land could appear and provide living space for animals and humans. Here the psalmist is declaring that even if the chaotic waters were to break forth and dissolve creation order back into chaos, there would be no reason for fear.
That is remarkable, particularly because the ancient Israelites were not well known for a robust belief in life after death. They thought instead of death as marking the end of effective existence for humans and animals alike (Eccl. 3:19–21; 9:3–4). One could no longer praise God in death, nor did the dead experience the wonders of God or his love and faithfulness (Ps. 88:10–12). This view makes the claim of the psalmist even more poignant since it is not mitigated by an expectation of resurrection or eternal life.
This passage reminds me of Jesus’ statements in the Sermon on the Mount: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?” (Matt. 6:25). Like the psalmist, Jesus has pared life down to its bare minimum—the basic necessities of food, drink, and protective clothing—and says, “Don’t worry!” if even these are lacking. Don’t worry even if you are dying of hunger, thirst, or exposure. Don’t fear even if the world and life as we know it disintegrates around you! That is radical faith—faith I am not sure I can always match.
Typically, Jesus provides the clarifying word for me here. And even his answer is subtly expressed in a question that makes us reflect more intensely on the interrelationship of life and faith. “Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?” The NIV translation of this verse supplies an interpretive addition that obscures in my opinion the true point of Jesus’ statement. In the NASB and NRSV the word “important” is omitted so that the result is something like, “Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” The introduction of the word “important” has the unfortunate effect of reducing Jesus’ point to an issue of relative importance. Of course life is more important than food, and the body is more important than the clothes one puts on. But that is not what Jesus asks.
Jesus’ question is: “Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?” And the obvious answer is “No!” in both instances. Life cannot be sustained beyond a short period without food (and particularly without drink). Nor can we survive long without protective clothing except in the most moderate of climates (which ancient Israel was not). This contradiction forces us to look behind Jesus’ words for his real meaning—and we find it in the radical assumption that he modeled in his own life and ministry. There is something more important in life than living itself. In other words, there is something worth dying for! That is why Christ went to the cross.
We face death and the dissolution of the world, not because we are assured of a new life after death—some “pie in the sky by and by” hope of heaven. We live faithfully in the face of the ultimate threats of life because God is at the core the food and drink that make our lives worth living. Without him, life is simply a series of breaths taken without meaning, gourmet meals consumed as a distraction from the emptiness of a self-focused existence.
Life with God is not dependent on life as we know it—or even on the universe as we know it. Life with God transcends our need to life here and now at any cost. Life lived in the power of God’s refuge and strength becomes eternal life—not just life that hopes to be restored in some future perfect existence, but life that is not threatened by the imperfection of our world or even by the dissolution of all we know.
“The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”