The Themes of Exile and Return Are Seen Throughout the Psalms

Given the theological severity of the historic exile, it is no surprise that emblems of exile and the hope for return would appear throughout the Bible.

The Poetic Exile

Given the theological severity of the historic exile, it is no surprise that emblems of exile and the hope for return would appear throughout the Bible. One thinks of the constant threat of enemies in Judges, the loss and return of the ark in 1 Samuel, Ruth’s departure and return, and David’s flights from danger.1

The same dynamic is powerfully at work in the Psalms. The Bible’s poetic literature “functions to provide a pause in the storyline to reflect on the tragedy of the exile, its causes and significance.”2 This is principally seen in the Psalter’s organization into five parts:

Book 1: Psalms 1–41
Book 2: Psalms 42–72
Book 3: Psalms 73–89
Book 4: Psalms 90–106
Book 5: Psalms 107–150

Gerald Wilson has argued that the psalms that begin and end each book serve as thematic “seams” that stitch the otherwise diverse psalms together.3 Thus a discernable pattern emerges that matches the narratological flow of the entire Old Testament, emphasizing exile and hope for return. The definitive turning points are the rise of David, crowning of Solomon, descent into exile, and rising of Israel out of exile into a new creation.4 For our purposes at this point in our study, books 1 to 4 tell the story of Israel’s exile out of the land.

Book 1 begins in a garden setting (Ps. 1:2–3) and describes the rise of the house of David as a response to the rebellion of the nations against God (Ps. 2). David’s ascension is a difficult one, however. He is a suffering king, often on the verge of death (Pss. 18:4; 22:1, 15; 23:4; 41:5). Yet he always comes out of the figurative grave to rule the nations (Pss. 16:10–11; 18:43; 22:19–21, 27; 23:5; 41:10).5 This brings us to the first “seam,” the climax of book 1. Psalm 41 concludes with these lines:

By this I know that you delight in me:
     my enemy will not shout in triumph over me.
But you have upheld me because of my integrity,
     and set me in your presence forever.
Blessed be the LORD. (Ps. 41:11–13)

The triumph over the “enemy” and the enjoyment of the Lord’s “presence forever” shows David’s role in bringing Genesis 3:15 to completion and reopening the door to Eden.

Yet Psalm 42, the first psalm of book 2, appears to have been written from exile, when the temple—that place of God’s presence—is a ruined heap, and the “enemy” taunts by saying, “Where is your God?” (Ps. 42:9–10, cf. Ps. 42:3).6 Thus, the last psalm of book 1 and first psalm of book 2 bring together the end goal of David’s reign—triumph over the enemy and entrance into God’s presence—and the ever-looming threat of exile. In other words, books 1 and 2 are stitched together with a yes-but-more seam. “Hope in God!” comes the cry (Ps. 42:5, 11; cf. Ps. 43:5).

Such expectations build higher by the end of book 2. Psalm 72 is the pinnacle of the Psalter the way 1 Kings 8–10 is the pinnacle of the historical books of the Old Testament, capturing the full vision of Genesis 3:15 and the nations’ return to Eden.7 Solomon is on the throne, ruling with justice and righteousness (Ps. 72:1–2). Sun, moon, and earth are invoked (Ps. 72:5–7) as this son of Judah has “dominion . . . to the ends of the earth” (Ps. 72:8; echo of Gen. 1:28) and victory over his “enemies” (Ps. 72:9; echo of Gen. 3:15), and tribute (particularly gold) and obeisance are brought by the nations (Ps. 72:10–11, 15; allusion to Gen. 49:10). The result, therefore, is that “the whole earth [is] filled with [the Lord’s] glory” (Ps. 72:19). In short, what David saw from afar at the end of book 1, his son Solomon realizes in a climactic way at the end of book 2.

Yet just like 1 Kings 11, book 3 of the Psalms begins with ominous words: “Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart. But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled, my steps had nearly slipped” (Ps. 73:1–2). It would appear that this psalm does not pertain directly to exile, but its placement at the head of book 3, right after the triumphant close to book 2, reminds us of Moses’s warnings concerning the heart, specifically how Solomon’s heart is described in 1 Kings 11. And indeed, book 3 does end with a dirge of exile in Psalm 89. The house of David is “cast off and rejected” (Ps. 89:38; cf. also Ps. 89:39, 44–45, 49). “How long, O Lord? Will you hide yourself forever?” (Ps. 89:46) is a sad query given what we saw at the end of books 1 and 2. Now the Lord’s and Israel’s “enemies” mock (Ps. 89:51). Thus, the plea at the end of book 3 is “Remember, O Lord” (Ps. 89:50). As the covenant God had once “remembered” Israel in Egypt (Ex. 2:24), this new exile will necessitate a second exodus.

The door back into to our true Edenic home is opened through the great end-times sacrifice of the coming Davidic priest-king.

Book 4 is then the book of exile itself. And right on cue, it opens with the only psalm written by Moses, Israel’s first redeemer (Ps. 90). Throughout, it emphasizes that God constantly “remembers” (Pss. 103:14; 105:8; 106:4) and constantly describes humanity’s end as “dust” (Pss. 103:14; 104:29; cf. Gen. 3:19) as well as Jerusalem’s current condition as “dust” (Ps. 102:13–14). Yet withMoses as the first author, book 4 generates the hope that Israel will return to the Lord and the Lord will return to them (Ps. 90:13). Book 4 also echoes Genesis 3:15 (Ps. 91:11–13), contains a wonderful hymn of creation (Ps. 104), and concludes by recounting the first exodus (Ps. 106). The final words are

Save us, O Lord our God,
     and gather us from among the nations,
that we may give thanks to your holy name
     and glory in your praise. (Ps. 106:47)

That is where book 4 leaves the people of God—calling out to be gathered from among the nations because the house of David and the house of the Lord (in fact, all humanity) are in the dust of death.

To be sure, not every psalm revolves around exilic themes. But an aerial view of the entire Psalter demonstrates this wider topography. Books 1 to 4 of the Psalter are struck in the mold of exile from Eden and exile from the land.

The Poetic Return from Exile

The Psalter has the same glorious vision. When we left off with the Psalms, we heard Israel’s plea at the end of book 4 to “gather us from among the nations, that we may give thanks” (Ps. 106:47). Book 5 then begins by repeating the words “gather” and “thanks.” Psalm 107:1–3 exults,

Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
     for his steadfast love endures forever!
Let the redeemed of the Lord say so,
     whom he has redeemed from trouble
and gathered in from the lands
     from the east and from the west,
from the north and from the south.

Thus, book 5 is the book of return from exile. And while psalms attributed to David decreased over books 3 and 4, his psalms are back in force in book 5. Psalms 108–110, 122, 124, 131, 133, and Psalms 138–145 are all ascribed to David. The emphasis that emerges is that “the answer to the problem of exile is David.”8 Having been laid “in the dust” at the end of book 3 (Ps. 89:39), David is now literarily back from the grave.

The most important chapter in this section is Psalm 110. It is a kingly enthronement psalm (“Sit at my right hand”; Ps. 110:1) reminiscent of Genesis 3:15 (“enemies your footstool”; Ps. 110:1).9 And it is also a priestly psalm (“You are a priest forever”; Ps. 110:4).10 The upshot is that through the reinthronement of the house of David and a new sacrifice, Israel comes out of exile.

Finally, at the completion of this return from exile, creation itself breaks out in worship of God. The five psalms that conclude the Psalter, Psalms 146–150, celebrate a renewed earth singing praise to God in the language of return from exile and a new exodus. In Psalm 146:8, the “blind” see. In Psalm 147:2, the Lord “gathers the outcasts.” In Psalm 148:3–11, sun, moon, stars, creatures, mountains, trees, and “creeping things” praise the Lord, as do the “kings of the earth.” In Psalm 149:1, a “new song” echoes Moses’s song after the parting of the Red Sea (Ex. 15:1–2). And in Psalm 150:1, laud is given to God specifically “in his sanctuary . . . in his mighty heavens.” The end is that “everything that has breath praise[s] the Lord” (Ps. 150:6). That term “breath” comes right out of Genesis 2:7. Thus, at the end of the exile, the purposes of Eden are accomplished!

As a whole, the Psalter tells the story from Adam to Solomon and the temple, down into exile, and finally looking forward to a new creation (just like the prophets) and, therefore, the restoration of all humanity. The door back into to our true Edenic home is opened through the great end-times sacrifice of the coming Davidic priest-king.

Notes:

  1. See Stephen G. Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty: A Theology of the Hebrew Bible, New Studies in Biblical Theology 15 (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2003), 191–94; structure of the Hebrew Canon,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 57, no. 3 (2014): 501–12.
  2. Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty, 49–50, 196–202.
  3. Gerald H. Wilson, “The Use of Royal Psalms at the ‘Seams’ of the Hebrew Psalter,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 35 (1986): 85–94; Wilson, “The Shape of the Book of Psalms,” Interpretation 46, no. 2 (1992): 129–42.
  4. Nicholas G. Piotrowski, In All the Scriptures: The Three Contexts of Biblical Hermeneutics (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2021), 137–40.
  5. See Mitchell L. Chase, Resurrection Hope and the Death of Death, Short Studies in Biblical Theology(Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2022), 61–64.
  6. See Nancy deClaissé-Walford, Rolf A. Jacobson, and Beth LaNeel Tanner, The Book of Psalms, New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2014), 401.
  7. James M. Hamilton Jr., Psalms, Bulletin for Biblical Research (Bellingham, WA: 2021), 1:637.
  8. Dempster, Dominion and Dynasty, 201.
  9. James Hamilton, “The Skull Crushing Seed of the Woman: Inner-Biblical Interpretation of Genesis 3:15,” Southern Baptist Journal of Theology 10, no. 2 (2006): 37–38.
  10. See David S. Schrock, The Royal Priesthood and the Glory of God, Short Studies in Biblical Theology (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2022), 110–12.

This article is adapted from Return from Exile and the Renewal of God’s People by Nicholas G. Piotrowski.



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Jesus’s Final Command Revealed His Ultimate Goal

Teaching people to parrot all that Jesus commanded is easy. Teaching them to observe all that Jesus commanded is impossible.

The Impossible Final Command

I am seeking to obey Jesus’s last command: “Make disciples of all nations . . . teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:19–20). Jesus’s final command was to teach all nations to keep his commandments.

Actually, the final command was more precise than that. He did not say, “Teach them all my commandments.” He said, “Teach them to observe all my commandments.” You can teach a parrot all of Jesus’s commandments. But you cannot teach a parrot to observe them. Parrots will not repent, and worship Jesus, and lay up treasures in heaven, and love their enemies, and go out like sheep in the midst of wolves to herald the kingdom of God. Teaching people to parrot all that Jesus commanded is easy.

Teaching them to observe all that Jesus commanded is impossible. Jesus used that word. When a rich man could not bring himself to let go of his riches and follow him, Jesus said, “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God. . . . With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God” (Mark 10:25–27).

Therefore, the person who sets himself to obey Jesus’s final commission—for example, to teach a rich man to observe the command to “renounce all that he has” (Luke 14:33)—attempts the impossible. But Jesus said it was *not impossible. “All things are possible with God.” So the greatest challenge in writing this book has been to discern God’s way of making impossible obedience possible.

Jesus said that this impossible goal happens through teaching. “Make disciples . . . teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” There is, of course, more to it than that—like the atoning death of Jesus (Mark 10:45) and the work of the Holy Spirit (John 14:26) and prayer (Matt. 6:13). But in the end Jesus focused on teaching. I take this to mean that God has chosen to do the impossible through the teaching of all that Jesus commanded. That’s what I pray this [message] will prove to be—a kind of teaching that God will use to bring about impossible obedience to Jesus. And all of that for the glory of God.

Teaching and Obedience That Glorify God

The reason I emphasize the glory of God is because Jesus did. He said, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16). The ultimate goal of Jesus’s commandments is not that we observe them by doing good works. The ultimate goal is that God be glorified. The obedience of good works is penultimate. But what is ultimate is that in our obedient lives God be displayed as the most beautiful reality in the world. That is Jesus’s ultimate goal and mine. This helps me answer the question: What kind of teaching of Jesus’s commandments might God be willing to use to bring about such impossible obedience? If the aim of obedience is ultimately the glory of God, then it is probable that the teaching God will use is the kind that keeps his glory at the center.

The ultimate goal of Jesus’s commandments is not that we observe them by doing good works. The ultimate goal is that God be glorified.

Keeping the Commandments Connected to Jesus and His Work

How then do we keep the beauty of God in proper focus in relation to Jesus’s commandments? By treating the meaning and motivation of the commands in connection with the person and work of Jesus. The person and work of Jesus are the primary means by which God has glorified himself in the world. No revelation of God’s glory is greater. Jesus said, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). Therefore, his person is the manifestation of the glory of God. To see him as he really is means seeing the infinitely valuable beauty of God. Jesus also said, as he was praying, “I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do” (John 17:4). Therefore, his work is a manifestation of the glory of God. When we see what he achieved and how he did it, we see the majesty and greatness of God.

Therefore, my aim has been to probe the meaning and the motivation of Jesus’s commands in connection with his person and work. What emerges again and again is that what he is commanding is a life that displays the worth of his person and the effect of his work. His intention is that we not disconnect what he commands from who he is and what he has done.

We should not be surprised, then, that Jesus’s final, climactic command is that we teach all nations to observe all that he commanded. This leads to his ultimate purpose. When obedience to his commands happens, what the world sees is the fruit of Jesus’s glorious work and the worth of his glorious person. In other words, they see the glory of God. This is why Jesus came and why his mission remains until he comes.

This article is adapted from All That Jesus Commanded: The Christian Life According to the Gospels by John Piper.



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10 Things You Should Know About the Exile

The Lord God is truly for his people, and with his people, and saving his people. What then is the exile but a stripping away of all of that?

This article is part of the 10 Things You Should Know series.

1. Israel’s exile is the major theological catastrophe of the Old Testament.

Israel’s exile to Assyria and Babylon occurred over a series of events from 722 BC to 582 BC. You can read about them in 2 Kings 17 and 2 Kings 24. And although forced deportation is awful enough in its own right, these waves of exile were coupled with two other deeply significant events: the toppling of David’s dynasty and the destruction of Solomon’s temple. In 2 Samuel 7 we read of how God had given his people “rest” in the land, and in turn promised to David that he would have a kingdom forever and a son to build God’s temple. Subsequently, Solomon is that first royal heir, and he builds God’s temple in Jerusalem (1 Kings 1‒10). Thus marks the pinnacle of God’s saving purposes to date: God’s people in God’s place under God’s king and worshipping in God’s sanctuary. All of that is an affirmation that the Lord God is truly for his people, and with his people, and saving his people. What then is the exile but a stripping away of all of that? Because of the sins of their kings (1 Kings 14:15; 2 Kings 21:9), the people are driven out of the land, deprived of a king, and made to watch their temple crumble—all of which begs the terrible question as to whether God has abandoned his people and/or been defeated by the Assyrian and Babylonian gods. The OT “exile,” therefore, is a collection of disasters that create an unthinkable theological quandary. It must be resolved!

2. The Bible’s theology of exile long predates Israel’s historic exile.

Yet, the OT’s theology of exile does not start in 2 Kings. Rather, Israel’s exile is a microcosm of a much larger exile. In Genesis 3:24, Adam and Eve are ejected “east of the garden of Eden” because of their sin (Gen. 2:17; 3:6). Israel’s experience of exile, therefore, is representative of all humanity’s exile from our original home in God’s glorious presence. This is why Israel’s exile matters to everyone, even if we are not Israelites. For it is only through Israel’s return from exile that we too can return to the true presence of God. We also learn from Adam and Eve’s expulsion from Eden that there is a critical theological link between exile and death. They are told that they will die the day they eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (Gen. 2:17). But on the day they eat of that tree, they do not die—strictly speaking. But they are expelled from the garden, and later they do die (Gen. 3:23–24; 5:5). We can conclude, therefore, that exile is a form of death, and death is a condition of being in exile. And such is the state of the world under “the curse” of sin (Gen. 3:17).

3. Return from exile motifs are all over the Old Testament.

The theology of exile and return is subsequently baked into the entire OT. The calling of Abraham demonstrates this in Genesis 11‒12. As he moves westward from Ur to “the land,” he is symbolically coming back to the presence of God. In turn, the language of Eden is used throughout Exodus by Joshua to describe the land promised to Israel (see esp. Ex. 3:8; Lev. 26:11‒12). Thus, Joshua’s entrance into the land is symbolic of a return to the garden of Eden (see esp. Josh. 1:13; 21:43‒45). Equally, insofar as the tabernacle is meant to look like and commemorate the garden of Eden (Ex. 24‒25), the ceremonies of the Day of Atonement in Leviticus 16 comprise a liturgical return from exile—the high priest bearing Israel, and by extension all humanity, back into the presence of God. The point of all this is that Israel’s calling, escape from Egypt, entrance into the land, and worship practices all remember Adam and Eve’s exile from Eden and create the hope for all humanity’s return to the presence of God someday.


4. Return from exile is often associated with resurrection.

Throughout the OT these symbolic returns from exile are often accompanied with resurrection symbolism. Two examples will have to suffice. When Israel escapes from Egypt, it is said that they “go up” or “go out” (Ex. 3:8, 12, 17; 6:6, 11, etc.), which is the same language used of “going up/out” of the grave in other OT texts (cf. Gen. 46:4; Ps. 18:15‒16; Jonah 2:2, 6). Thus, Israel is metaphorically resurrected in their exodus! Also, when the prophets speak of Israel coming out of their Babylonian exile, they describe it as a resurrection of the nation (see Isa. 25 and Ezek. 37). In both of these cases, an atoning sacrifice is necessary to precipitate the return and resurrection (Ex. 12; Isa. 53).

5. Jeremiah says the exile will last 70 years, but Daniel says it will last 70 x 7 years.

The most famous prediction of the duration of Israel’s exile comes in Jeremiah 29:10, “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place.” I say this is famous not because we know it very well, but because other biblical authors often refer to it. See 2 Chronicles 36:21, Ezra 1:1, and Daniel 9:2. But it is striking that upon seeing that those 70 years are ended, Daniel prays that the Lord will return his people to the land (Dan. 9:3‒19). But then the angel Gabriel appears to Daniel and says, “Seventy weeks [or “Seventy sevens”] are decreed about your people and your holy city . . . . ” That means that while the exile will end in one sense (Ezra does lead many home), it is ordained by the Lord actually to extend the conditions of the exile to seventy times seven years! I don’t think that number is meant to pinpoint a precise date, but to speak of a lengthening of the exile (and all it meant under #1 above) to a further horizon while all still under God’s sovereign timing.

6. With Jesus’s birth, teachings, and miracles the return from exile has begun.

The NT, therefore, opens with this ongoing exile emphasis (cf. Matt. 1:11‒12; 2:15, 18). But Jesus’s ministry is the dawning of the end-of-exile light (compare Matt. 4:12–17 with Isa. 9:1–2)! He heals diseases and raises the dead (compare Matt. 11:2‒6 with Isa. 35:1‒7). He offers “rest” from a heavy “yoke” (compare Matt. 11:28‒30 with Isa. 9:4 and Jer. 6:16). And he feeds his people on the mountains of Israel (compare Matt. 14:13‒21 with Ezek. 34:11‒14). All of these teachings and actions are clear prophetic signs that the exile is about to truly end through Christ.

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7. Jesus’s death and resurrection together are the climactic return-from-exile events.

I commented above that “exile is a form of death” and that “death is a condition of exile.” Conversely, throughout the OT the return from exile is described as a kind of resurrection. With that sort of background in place, Jesus’s death and resurrection can easily be seen as his own personal exile and return. Only his return to the presence of God is not like a resurrection, but a true historical bodily resurrection. Thus, all those images of return and resurrection in the OT were always pointing to Christ’s climactic work. Two NT texts help us understand this. In the context of describing the meaning of Christ’s death, Galatians 3:13 says, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us.” As we saw above, the OT “curse” is that of exile. Then in Hebrews, we learn how Jesus has now gone into the true sanctuary of God (Heb. 8:1‒5). Thus, in Jesus’s death he has become the Christian’s substitutionary victim of exile as he pays the consequence of death on behalf of his people for their sins. And in the resurrection and ascension, he representatively entered into the true sanctuary of God on behalf of his people. Because sin leads to exile and death, Jesus has endured the exile and death due his people on their behalf. And because return from exile means resurrection into the presence of God, Jesus has been raised to minister in the heavenly sanctuary on behalf of his people.

8. Jesus’s ascension, the gift of the Spirit, and the creation of the church are return-from-exile effects today.

But the story of return from exile does not end there. The world continues to feel the effects of Jesus’s return-from-exile mission as his people are born again, evangelize others, and persevere in their faith. Paul tells us that we experience Jesus’s resurrection power when we put our faith in Jesus. Romans 6:4 says, “[J]ust as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life” (see also Gal. 2: 20). And Peter too says that God “has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Peter 1:3). Thus, Jesus’s personal return-from-exile resurrection power is extended to his people. We can say, therefore, that Christians participate on Jesus’s return-from-exile experience through our union with him (see also Eph. 1:20; 2:5‒6; Col. 3:1‒3). Related, whenever we evangelize unbelievers, we are extending Jesus’s come-out-of-exile summons to the world (compare my comments in #6 above on Matt. 4:12‒17 with Matt. 28:18‒20). In this way, the rest of the world also experiences Jesus’s end-of-exile ministry. And finally, Romans 8 and Hebrews 3‒4 use a lot of the language of the exodus to describe how Christians persevere in their walk. Insofar as Israel’s exodus and eventual entrance into the land are also return-from-exile motifs (see #3 above), then so too are the struggles of the Christian life. Our head—the Lord Jesus Christ—has gone before us into the glorious presence of God, and in that sense, we can say we too have returned from exile. But it is also true that experientially, in this life, we are returning from exile. And to God’s great praise and our comfort, he is with us in our return-from-exile trek through this life.

9. The Bible’s theology of exile and return is only finally resolved in the last chapters of Revelation.

Our full and final return from exile will only be complete when Jesus returns and resurrects our bodies (1 Thess. 4:13‒16). Then we will enter into the new heavens and the new earth, a cosmic Edenic homecoming (Rev. 21‒22)! This beautiful passage in Revelation 21:1‒4 says it all:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Into this new reality, “the kings of the earth will bring their glory” (Rev. 21:24). And so the Bible’s long exile-and-return drama ends as Christ’s people enter into a geographic location where we will dwell with God forever. All because Christ has “died, and behold [is] alive forevermore” (Rev. 1:18)!

10. A biblical theology of exile is deeply relevant for forming the Christian life.

This biblical theology of exile and return is vital for Christians to understand. For one, it helps us read our Bibles better, and that is always good. Notice all the bits of the biblical narrative that I referenced throughout #1‒9 above: Adam and Eve, Abraham, Moses, exodus, Sinai, tabernacle, land, David, temple, Solomon, the prophets, Jesus’s birth and teaching and miracles, Jesus’s death and resurrection, regeneration, evangelism, perseverance, and our future hope. The Bible’s drama of exile and return helps us organize and make sense of all that together. Secondly, this biblical understanding of exile and return gives us a theology of history. And that is very important too. It tells us where we are in God’s world and when we are in God’s plans. We are one step out of exile and one step back into Eden! Christ is our “sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf” (Heb. 6:19–20; cf. also Heb. 10:20)—and very soon, we are destined to follow him there! In a world profoundly confused about who they are, what is good, what is true, what is beautiful, and what is the meaning of life, this theology of homecoming is beautifully refreshing, inspiring, motivating, hope-giving, grounding, and identifying. Friend, if you’re still reading this, rejoice with me in the return-from-exile salvation Christ has brought, and open up your mouth to call others out of exile with you!

Nicholas G. Piotrowski is the author of Return from Exile and the Renewal of God’s People.



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Do the Psalms Contain Self-Righteous Boasting? (Psalms 7, 17, and 26)

A number of psalms include professions of innocence, and these professions are not casual but prominent in the songs. Some have taken the claims of innocence here as a kind of self-righteous boasting, but this is a mistake.

This article is part of the Tough Passages series.

Listen to the Passages

The Apparently “Self-Righteous” Passages in Psalms

A number of psalms include professions of innocence, and these professions are not casual but prominent in the songs. The allegedly innocent party is the particular worshiper (Psalms 7; 17; 26), the king (Psalm 18), and the whole community (Psalm 44). These passages can strike the reader as silly (“I am a victim of circumstance!”), as self-deceiving (contrary to Prov. 20:9; Eccles. 7:20, 29), as portraying an unattainable level of perfection, or as something more sinister—a kind of repulsive bombast and self-promotion (e.g., Luke 18:9–14).1

A better approach is to begin with the meaning of such words as “righteous” in the Psalter. When applied to members of Israel, the terms “righteous” and “righteousness” can be used in several ways.2 First, the terms can be applied to the whole people, who have the covenantal revelation of the righteous Creator (Hab. 1:13), as opposed to the Gentiles, who do not. Second, it can be applied to those members of the people who embrace the covenant from the heart, who have sincere faith and seek to please the Lord in their conduct and character (Deut. 6:25; 24:13; Isa. 1:21, 26; 5:7; Hab. 2:4; Zeph. 2:3; Mal. 3:3). This second usage appears often in the Psalms (e.g., Pss. 7:8; 37:16–17), which also make clear that these “righteous” are people who readily confess their sins (Ps. 32:11). A third usage is for persons among the faithful who are especially noteworthy for their healthy role in the community and are therefore worthy of honor and imitation (a good king, Ps. 18:20, 24; ordinary folk, Pss. 37:30; 112:3–4, 6, 9). And finally, the words can be applied to the innocent party in a dispute (e.g., Gen. 38:26; 44:16 [“clear” = “make righteous”]; Ex. 23:7; Deut. 25:1) and hardly claims moral perfection.

We can also find the complementary phenomenon with negative terms, such as “wicked,” “sinner,” and “fool.” These words can denote those who are not God’s people, the unfaithful within Israel, or those whose impiety leads to distinctively evil behavior.

We discern which sense is present in a given text by way of the contrasts in view. As C. S. Lewis put it, “The best clue is to ask oneself in each instance what is the implied opposite.”3 Further, different psalms focus on different oppositions. For example, some of these are individual laments, well suited for a worshiping congregation with a member under threat from “enemies” using false accusations to harm the faithful person (Psalms 7; 17; 26). In these cases “we need therefore by no means assume that the Psalmists are deceived or lying when they assert that, as against their particular enemies at some particular moment, they are completely in the right.”4 To use these psalms in such instances allows the congregation to rally around its unjustly accused brethren and also reinforces its commitment to love the virtues and hate the vices depicted in these texts and to honor those who display these virtues.

Psalm 18, by contrast, is especially about the ideal for the Davidic kingship. A congregation could use it to foster the community’s shared yearning that its king would embody these ideals, which would lead to prayer that the current king would indeed embody them. Christians profess that Jesus, as the ultimate heir of David, does in fact embody the ideals and is therefore worthy of admiration and imitation (John 13:15–16; 1 Cor. 11:1; Eph. 5:1; 1 Thess. 1:6; Phil. 2:5).

It bears repeating: to use these psalms well requires careful and bold pastoral leadership. Self-identification as an innocent sufferer is neither healthy nor invited!

Psalm 7

O Lord my God, if I have done this,
   if there is wrong in my hands,
if I have repaid my friend with evil
   or plundered my enemy without cause,
let the enemy pursue my soul and overtake it,
   and let him trample my life to the ground
   and lay my glory in the dust. (Ps. 7:3–5)

Psalm 7 is an individual lament from David. The title refers to an otherwise unknown incident in the life of David on which a man of Benjamin (the tribe of Saul) said some “words”; from the content of the psalm we may infer that these words were slanderous. Hence the situation shows us how to understand the claims of innocence here (Ps. 7:3–4, 8): the innocence is relative to the accusations being made, rather than absolute. Hence this psalm provides a vehicle by which people may call to God for help when they are unfairly criticized or persecuted.

The first movement of the psalm professes the singer’s innocence: the person singing this in good faith claims not to have betrayed the trust that should bind the people of God together.

Observe how the general expression in Psalm 7:3 (“wrong in my hands”) finds closer clarification in verse 4 (“repaid my friend with evil,” “plundered my enemy without cause”). That is, the specific wrongdoing in view concerns the social connections between the fellow members of God’s people. The Sinai covenant established Israel as (ideally, anyhow) God’s new humanity, whose relationships are to show forth true humanness for all the Gentiles to see. Hence often in both the Psalms and the Prophets the sins denounced are “social,” for the ethic assumed throughout the Bible prizes a peaceful and loving community.

This psalm is suited only for those cases in which the danger stems from the malice of the persecutors, not from the wrongdoing of the person in trouble. Thus verse 5 offers a prayer of self-malediction: “If I am guilty of the things of which I am accused, then let my enemy succeed.” A person who cannot make the claim of verses 3–4 in good faith ought not sing this! Hence this serves as an implicit warning that those who commit the evils listed here ought, rather than using this psalm to ask for God’s help, to begin with confession of sin (i.e., a different song, such as Psalm 6).

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Psalm 17

You have tried my heart, you have visited me by night,
   you have tested me, and you will find nothing;
   I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress.
With regard to the works of man, by the word of your lips
   I have avoided the ways of the violent.
My steps have held fast to your paths;
   my feet have not slipped. (Ps. 17:3-5)

Like Psalm 7, this psalm provides a prayer for supporting members of the faithful who face persecution in the form of false accusations.

Professions of innocence such as we find here, and in Psalms 7; 17; 26, can trouble sensitive Christians. C. S. Lewis wisely observes an important distinction “between the conviction that one is in the right [about the particular issue of the accusations] and the conviction that one is ‘righteous.’”5 Lewis, however, was not sure that the psalmists themselves always preserve this distinction. I certainly support Lewis’s spiritual concern to protect Christians against self-righteousness, but I do not think he has seen the particular psalms in the proper light. First, Lewis himself rightly saw that the Psalms are songs for worship,6 but he did not consistently apply that observation in his discussions. Since they are songs, they are used under the pastoral guidance of the personnel who choose them, each one in the spiritual context of all the others.

A pastorally wise form of prayer for such circumstances must both caution the faithful to be sure they really are innocent and also warn the unfaithful of what awaits them unless they repent — and this song does just that. Further, in professing innocence it reinforces the feelings of approval for the kind of social relationships for which God called Israel from the start.

Indeed, by the way this psalm closes, it equips the faithful to trust God in their trials, ready to await their own eternal reward for their full and final vindication (and hence it strengthens them to resist the temptation to forfeit that vindication by turning to unfaithfulness).

Psalm 26

I do not sit with men of falsehood,
   nor do I consort with hypocrites.
I hate the assembly of evildoers,
   and I will not sit with the wicked.
I wash my hands in innocence
   and go around your altar, O LORD,
proclaiming thanksgiving aloud,
   and telling all your wondrous deeds.
O LORD, I love the habitation of your house
   and the place where your glory dwells. (Ps. 26:4–8)

Some have taken the claims of innocence here as a kind of self-righteous boasting, but, as already argued on Psalm 7 and Psalm 17, this is a mistake. First, the mention of God’s steadfast love and faithfulness (Ps. 26:3), a clear echo of Exodus 34:6, shows that divine grace is the foundation for holy living. Second, the references to worship in God’s house (Ps. 26:6–8) indicate that the covenantal means of grace, with their focus on atonement and forgiveness, are in view. And third, singing this psalm serves to enable worshipers more and more to like and embrace the ideal of faithful covenant membership—but it does not make achieving that ideal a precondition for true worship.

Like Psalm 7 and Psalm 17, this psalm has worshipers singing to profess integrity in their lives; like the case for those psalms, it would be an easy mistake to suppose that this is self-righteous braggadocio. Pastoral wisdom would have been called for on the part of the priests arranging and leading the worship.

But also like Psalm 7 and Psalm 17, one crucial function of singing a song like this one is to set the virtues as the ideal toward which the faithful will more readily give themselves the more honestly they sing the words. The integrity that it praises covers both observable deeds and one’s invisible inner life, actions and feelings.

A similar situation faces Christians as they read, say, 1 John, with its various terms for genuine believers (those who keep God’s word, abide in God, have been born of God, etc.), and its variety of expressions for what they do (walk as Jesus walked, confess their sins, love their brethren, listen to the apostles, etc.).7 Extensive discussions have pondered what these assertions in 1 John mean, but certainly they do not claim sinless perfection, as 1 John 1:9; 2:1 make clear. Better is the idea that the statements using the present form of the verb describe the prevailing practices of the faithful—as over against particular lapses, for which the aorist would be normal. Nevertheless, I think that, in view of the disputative context (a group of false teachers have left; 1 John 2:18–19), the author’s goals recognize that those who remain true to the apostles must be regrounded in their identity. They must learn to say, “This is what we do.”

It would probably be going too far to see the violations of the approved way of life in the Psalms and in 1 John as disqualifications for membership; rather, the grace of God sets a person on the path of faithfulness by equipping him or her with the proper likes and dislikes. The affirmations of positive virtues enable the congregation to feel their own approval of those virtues, and the denunciations of vices enable them to feel their own disapproval of those vices.

This is the life Christians admire, this is the kind of people we want to be. This is our graciously given identity, and as a body we support and nourish in one another the aspiration to be good as we simultaneously create a safe environment for those who are not yet very good at being good.

Notes:

  1. A helpful resource is Gert Kwakkel, ‘According to My Righteousness’: Upright Behaviour as Grounds for Deliverance in Psalms 7, 17, 18, 26 and 44 (Leiden: Brill, 2002).
  2. I leave out “righteousness” as “deserving” (Deut. 9:4–6) as having no bearing on this discussion.
  3. C.S. Lewis, Studies in Words (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1967), 43.
  4. C.S. Lewis, Reflection on the Psalms,18. Unfortunately Lewis, lacking the kind of social analysis given here (and not following his own principle about the Psalms as hymnody), attributes a kind of self-righteousness not simply to abuse of these psalms but even to the psalms themselves.
  5. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms, 17.
  6. “What must be said, however, is that the Psalms are poems, and poems intended to be sung: not doctrinal treatises, nor even sermons.” Kirkpatrick, Book of Psalms , 1:2.
  7. I have given an analysis of some of the literary and linguistic features in C. John Collins, “What the Reader Wants and the Translator Can Give: 1 John as a Test Case,” in Translating Truth (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2005), 77–111, esp. 94–105.

This article by C. John Collins and is adapted from ESV Expository Commentary: Psalms–Song of Solomon (Volume 5).



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How the Author of Hebrews Reads the Book of Psalms

If we look to the way the New Testament uses the Psalms, we will discover that in addition to an emotional outpouring to God, the New Testament authors find a rich theology of God in the Psalter.

The Psalms

The Psalms have always been at the heart of Christian worship. Believers sing, pray, and meditate on the words of the Psalms week in and week out, and they have done so since the foundation of the church. This frequent devotion, however, is often only partially formed. We go to the Psalms looking to find ourselves, to put words to the emotions we already feel or hope to feel. We go to the Psalms as a voice for our heart, as a counselor, as a comfort. None of this is wrong—it is part of why God gave us the Psalms—but it is incomplete.

If we look to the way the New Testament uses the Psalms, we will discover that in addition to an emotional outpouring to God, the New Testament authors find a rich theology of God in the Psalter. The Psalms, in the New Testament’s reading, are the songs of the Son. The Father speaks to the Son, and the Son speaks in return.1 It is not just that some psalms predict things about Jesus; it is that in many of the psalms, we hear the voice of Jesus speaking and the Father speaking to him. The Son speaks in his preincarnate glory. He speaks in his earthly life and suffering. He even speaks in the role of his people, taking their sin and their suffering onto himself.

Paul, the unknown author of Hebrews, and Jesus himself all go to the Psalms to find Jesus, the Son of God, speaking and being spoken to. In earlier eras, the church has been more conscious of this, singing the Psalms regularly and finding the words of Jesus in their mouths even as they saw Jesus singing their own thoughts, emotions, and confessions through the Psalter. More than any other book of the Old Testament, the Psalms presents us with the unity between Christ and his people as the psalmists quickly shift between speaking of the Son in his glory, in his humility, and in his representation of his people. Theophylact, a medieval Greek bishop whose New Testament commentaries proved influential in both the Western and Eastern churches, would generalize from specific quotations and claim that Paul read entire psalms as being about Jesus. This was likely uncontroversial. This is not to say that an interpretation is right because it is old or was widely accepted; but in this case, those Scripture-saturated Christians were more sensitive to the Bible’s own way of reading itself. The Psalms are, in their fullness, the songs of the Son, the hymnbook of the greater David.

This is plain throughout the New Testament, but it is particularly poignant in the epistle to the Hebrews.

Read by the Author of Hebrews

In the book of Hebrews, we are presented with the God who speaks. He speaks to us in his word and in his Son. But this is not all we see. The Father speaks to the Son, and the Son speaks back. The author finds throughout Scripture, but particularly in the Psalms, this call and response within the Trinity. A divine conversation plays out before our eyes as the world is made, as salvation is accomplished, and as all things are made new in the Son of God. Our God is a speaking God, and before he ever spoke to us, God has always been the one who speaks within the Trinity. As this speaking God turns to that which is not himself, all creation bursts into being and is sustained by that same word. Within history, God speaks again and again, until at last that Son comes in whom God communicates perfectly and finally. By grace, Hebrews gives us glimpses of this divine conversation. To do so, the author turns to the language of the Psalms.

Within history, God speaks again and again, until at last that Son comes in whom God communicates perfectly and finally.

While any book of the New Testament could be used to help us understand God’s revelation in the Old, few books offer as extended, deep, and explicit an interaction with the Old Testament as does the epistle to the Hebrews. In particular, in this one letter, we are shown time and again how the Psalms form our understanding of Jesus: his nature, his work, and his relationships. Through paying close attention to how Hebrews reasons with the Psalms, we will see Jesus more clearly and learn to read the Psalms the apostles’ way, as the songs of the Son.

More than any other inspired writer, the author of Hebrews develops his argument by reasoning with the Scriptures of Israel and particularly with the Psalms. Far more than simply quoting the Psalms as illustrations or proof texts, the author of Hebrews composes his entire letter as a series of arguments from the Psalms and other Old Testament texts in light of Jesus’s life, death, resurrection, ascension, ongoing work, and coming return.

Nowhere else do we have such a dense and sustained interaction with one book of Scripture by another. While the author weaves together texts from all of the Old Testament canon, deftly synthesizing the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings as he demonstrates the superiority of Christ, it is to the Psalms that he returns again and again. At crucial points in his argument as he explains or applies or clarifies, the author of Hebrews reaches consistently for the Psalms. Since this is the case, it is particularly helpful for us to explore how the author reads the Psalms.

It is my conviction that if we read the Psalms with the author of Hebrews, we will learn to read the Psalms for what they truly are. Their meanings will unfold as we see precisely how they witness to Christ: not only as predictions to be fulfilled but also as testimony to the very voice of God—the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. In the voice of the psalmists, the Son reveals his nature, his mission, and his relationships with his Father and his people.

Notes:

  1. While this type of observation is common in the older theological tradition, in modern scholarship on Hebrews it has been most clearly argued in Madison Pierce, Divine Discourse in the Epistle to the Hebrews: The Recontextualization of Spoken Quotations of Scripture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2020).

This article is adapted from ​​​​Songs of the Son: Reading the Psalms with the Author of Hebrews by Daniel Stevens.



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