Appendix

The Psalms are poems; but in some of them the poetical element is much more concentrated than in others. As in the poems of Wordsworth, so in the Psalms, some pieces are just above the level of prose, while others soar, like birds, into the realm of the imagination. To the latter class the Second Psalm belongs: nothing more poetical could be pointed out in any literature. The theme is the honour of the Son of God; but this is not set forth in abstract propositions, but pictorially. There are four pictures, perfectly distinct from one another; yet one story moves through them all, and the artistic balance is carefully preserved, an equal number of verses being assigned to each scene. There is no hurrying; every scene is painted with careful elaboration. Yet the whole Psalm consists of only twelve verses. It is a marvellous example of multum in parvo. The exposition is introduced here in illustration of what was said about parallelism and the discovery of paragraphs or strophes in poetry.

The four pictures may be named, respectively, Revolt, Retort, Interpretation, Admonition.

* See p. 30.

(i) Revolt. — The first scene is depicted in the first three verses:

Why do the nations rage,

And the peoples imagine a vain thing?

The kings of the earth set themselves,

And the rulers take counsel together,

Against the Lord, and against His anointed, saying,

Let us break their bands asunder,

And cast away their cords from U3.

When, in accordance with the Revised Version, the word “nations” is substituted for “heathen,” and the plural “peoples” for the singular “people,” it is manifest at once that this is a picture of Revolt. The subject nations and peoples round the Holy Land have become restless under the yoke. A spirit of disaffection has spread among them. Messengers have been sent from one petty court to another, whispering treason and proposing union for the common aim of emancipation. At last the movement has reached a head. The air is electric with change. Over wide regions are audible the clang of armour and the muster of armies. It is a great combination of revolting states. All this is expressed in a single verse, in the brief sentences of which seem to be heard the growls of discontent and the feet of converging multitudes. The parallelism, also, is simple and perfect.

In the second verse we are carried into the council-tent of the revolters. In the midst of the assembled armies there is a tent, in which are convened the leaders of the various elements of which the combination is composed: as the verse says, “the kings set themselves,” that is, at the council- table — and “the rulers (though the old translation” princes “was perhaps better) take counsel together.” Through the mists of the past the eve sees very clearly that tent of the kings and the princes in the midst of the smaller tents with which the surrounding plain is dotted. In front of it a flag is flying, and sentries are on guard, while within, round the board, fret those warriors of the olden time — the old, proud kings and the young, eager princes. It is a dark deed they are plotting, and their tones are low and muffled. Yet now and then loud, ringing words burst out; for their hearts are full of passion. Then again, however, fear subdues their tones; for they are conscious that it is a perilous and even a desperate enterprise in which they are engaged. But no! they will not believe it to be desperate, and they will not turn back from the purpose which has brought them together. The parallelism is not quite so simple as in the first verse, the two parallel lines requiring to be supplemented by a third, which is common to them both. At last they come to a unanimous decision, and this is expressed in the third verse, where also the parallelism is simple and complete:

Let us break their bands asunder,
And cast away their cords from us.

Like steers bound with bands and cords to the plough or other burden, they have been in vassalage to Jehovah and His anointed; but the yoke has been grievous and intolerable; and now, like oxen, when in a fit of rebellion and frenzy they kick over the traces and Bnap the harness binding them to the burden, they will break free from control and assert their independence.

It is a picture of the olden time — of an age of the world when war was every man’s trade, and poetry naturally borrowed its imagery from that source — when the rule of religion and morality was represented by the sovereignty of the Holy Land among the tribes by which it was surrounded — and when Jehovah was accounted the King of the country, the reigning sovereign being His vicegerent. But the thing represented under these ancient figures is modern enough: it is the opposition of the world to the reign of goodness; it is the attempt of the persecutor or the traditionalist to arrest the progress of the kingdom of light and love; it is the enmity of the natural heart to the authority which curbs its lawless impulses.

(2) Retort. — The second scene is depicted in the second triplet of verses:

He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: The Lord shall have them in derision. Then shall He speak unto them in His wrath, And vex them in His sore displeasure: Yet have I set My king Upon My holy hill of Zion.

Perhaps this is the point at which the poetic originality of this Psalm reaches its climax. Having depicted the first scene in the first three verses, the poet places side by side with it one which stands to it in the most absolute contrast. The first scene is on earth, this one is in heaven; the first is a scene of wild excitement, this is one of absolute calm. There above, in the serenity of heaven, is sitting One who is surveying all that is taking place below. The rcvolters do not see Him; they are not thinking about Him or taking Him into account at all; but He sees them. Theirs is a secret conclave, and they intend to keep their design and the method of its execution absolutely hidden, till the favourable moment has arrived; but He hears every word spoken, and He is reading off their hearts, as if they were an open book.

It is a precious situation. From the region of art or literature scenes can be recalled in which plotters, at the moment when they think themselves most close and secure, are being overlooked and detected. In such scenes there is always an element of the ludicrous, and sometimes such scenes may be extremely laughable. So says this Psalm: “He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh.” The present, “is laughing,” might be a better translation.

To represent the Deity as “laughing” is an extremely bold flight of the poetic imagination; yet it is not altogether unexampled. Authors of a melancholy and cynical cast of mind have described God as the Aristophanes of the universe, who sits aloft in the eternal calm of His self-sufficiency and contemplates the designs and doings of human beings, as a spectator might watch the movements of an anthill, mocking their littleness, smiling at the fever and the fret of their endeavours, which are pure vanity, because human life is only a madman’s dream, signifying nothing. Such a representation of God as this could not appear in Scripture. In the Bible man is never a trivial being, whose actions are of no consequence. On the contrary, his conduct always moves God: it may please and delight or it may distress and enrage Him, but it is never without moral significance.

So here there is a swift transition from laughter to a very different mood:

Then shall He speak unto them in His wrath, And vex them in His sore displeasure.

God is not the distant, silent, amused but unconcerned spectator of the world. On the contrary, He comes down and intervenes in human affairs. Here He speaks out: His laughter passes first into anger, and then His anger passes into speech, His words being given in the last verse of this section:

Yet have I set My king
Upon My holy hill of Zion.

The printing in the Revised Version gives these words as two lines; but it is questionable if they form more than a single line. The interruption of the verse in the middle may be to indicate, by a sudden stop, the abrupt and decisive character of the oracle. Anyway, these words of God retort the words of the revolters. As the first section ended with their words, the result of their deliberations in the war-tent:

Let us break their bands asunder,
And cast away their cords from us

The Beauty ot the Bible

so Jehovah’s contemplation of the scene below issues in words which He hurls against theirs:

Yet have I set My It

Upon My holy hill of Zion.

This great “yet” is flung across the path of the revolters, not only as an obstacle to check their advance, but as an obstacle which will explode and blow into space both them and their designs.

Those who are engaged in the work of God do not laugh enough; they do not sympathise enough with the laughter of God. But laughter is power. We take things too seriously; we tremble too much for the ark of God; we fret and vex ourselves too much at objections raised to religion and obstacles thrown in the path of the Gospel. When someone who has no religion himself begins gravely to propound his religious views; when an upstart, who has not cut his wisdom-teeth yet, proposes with a wave of the arm to sweep away the convictions on which the greatest and the wisest of our race have lived and died; when one who has never been out of his native country propounds with the air of Sir Oracle methods of dealing with the heathen which the most experienced missionaries have discussed a hundred times and rejected, we ought to see the ludicrous side of the case. The people of God ought to remember God’s great “yet” which He still hurls in the face of His enemies, and to learn from it the art of tranquillity.

(3) Interpretation. — The third scene is depicted in the third triplet of verses:

I will tell of the decree:

The Lord said unto me. Thou art My son;

This day have 1 begotten thee.

Ask of Me, and I will give thee the nations for thine inheritance,

And the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession.

Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron;

Thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.

In this section the language becomes more pregnant and, so to speak, shorthand than anywhere else in the Psalm. Not even Browning, in his most abbreviating mood, leaves so much to be divined. Yet it is all there; and, when looked at closely enoughandlong enough, it all becomes perfectly clear.

Obviously the scene is again changed: we are no longer in heaven, but back again on earth. We are not, however, among the revolters, but in the opposite camp, or rather between the one army and the other. The speaker now is the Lord’s anointed, who is at the head of his troops. Apparently we are to conceive the two armies as confronting each other — the army of the revolters and the army of the anointed. But, before the battle is joined, the anointed comes forward into the space between the hostile forces and makes a last effort for peace. Lifting up his voice and addressing himself to the leaders of the revolters, he says, “I will declare (or” interpret “) the decree.”... Which decree is meant? It is the decree with which the preceding section closed — the oracle flung by Jehovah in the face of His adversaries. But how do the revolters know anything about this decree? They are supposed to have heard it uttered. When Jehovah speaks in Scripture, it is in thunder He utters His voice; indeed, thunder is frequently called “the voice of Jehovah.” When Jehovah, then, looking down on the council of war, at last uttered His voice, we are to understand that there burst over the revolting army such a roar of thunder as made them quake with terror and brought home to them the sense that they were being watched. They were compelled to remember the God above them, whom they had forgotten. But, as on one occasion, in the days of Christ’s flesh, when His Father spoke to Him in an audible voice, the people standing by said that it thundered, while Jesus alone clearly and fully apprehended the divine message, so on this occasion the revolters, though appalled by the voice from heaven, only dimly comprehended its import; and, therefore, the anointed, on whose behalf it had been spoken, comes forward to explain to those whom it also concerns. “I will tell of the decree,” he says, and then he proceeds, not to recite it verbatim, but to expound what it involves, and how it bears on him and on them.

The interpretation of the oracle is, “Thou art My son; this day have I begotten thee.” In ancient Israel the reigning sovereign was spoken of as the son of Jehovah; and on the day on which he was enthroned he might be thought of as being begotten. It may be to this event that the king is looking back. Or it may be that at the present crisis of his history, when his enemies have combined to dislodge him from his seat, God has so manifestly renewed his title to his place that the occasion can be spoken of as a new birth to his dignity — u This day have I begotten thee.”

At all events, the divine voice has confirmed his position, and he goes on to explain what this implies: God’s decree secures to him the entire sway embraced in the ancient promises to Abraham and in the sure mercies of David:

Ask of Me, and 1 will give Thee the nations for Thine inheritance, And the uttermost parts of the earth for Thy possession.

Nothing could stand in the way of this decree. The nations might resist; but, if so, they would be broken in pieces like a potter’s vessel — an image of complete and irretrievable destruction.

While all this has reference to some event of Hebrew history and to some king of David’s line, there shines through it an ultimate application to the great Son of David. To Him Jehovah could say, “Thou art My Son,” in a sense in which this could be said to no other. From all eternity He could say to Him, “This day have I begotten Thee,” because He was begotten in the unbeginning and unending day of eternity. In the New Testament “this day” especially applied to the day of His resurrection and ascension, when, as Mediator, He was raised to the right hand of the Highest, all power being given unto Him in heaven and on earth. To Christ God has said in the fullest sense:

Ask of Me, and I will give Thee the nations for Thine inheritance, And the uttermost parts of the earth for Thy possession.

It is not His., indeed, to bear sway with a rod of iron or to break opponents in pieces. This is

225 p imager)- native to an age when the character of God was but imperfectly known. The sceptre of Christ is love; and it is in the hearts of men, not over their prostrate persons, that His throne is erected. Still, He must reign, and, if there be wills which persistently and finally reject His love, these will be broken by force; for, “in the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, of things in heaven and things on earth and things under the earth, and every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

(4) Admonition. — The last scene is represented in the three last verses:

Now therefore be wise, O ye kings:

Be instructed, ye judges of the earth.

Serve the Lord with fear,

And rejoice with trembling.

Kiss the son, lest He be angry, and ye perish in the way,

For His wrath will soon be kindled.

Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him.

Who is the speaker in this section? It may be the anointed, who is continuing his address to the insurgent army. But it is more in keeping with the highly dramatic character of the Psalm to assume that there is a change of speaker. It is the poet himself, who, having observed the entire situation, comes forward out of the background as an intermediary and, like the chorus in a Greek play, draws the moral of the whole.

He addresses himself to the leaders of the insurgent army, whom, in the parallel lines, he calls 11 kings “and “judges “; because in the ancient world king and judge were interchangeable terms, judging being one of the principal functions of kings. He counsels them to pause and be advised: they must themselves sec, in the light of what is happening, that their enterprise is hopeless and may be fatal to themselves.

Therefore, he advises them to kiss the son — that is, to give to God’s anointed and vicegerent the sign of allegiance. “Kiss the son, lest He” — that is, the Father, not the son — “be angry, and ye perish in the w ay, for His wrath will soon be kindled” (or perhaps, “His wrath is easily kindled “). He resents even a little disrespect offered to the son and will terribly avenge it.

In many passages of the Old Testament, and even in some of the Psalms, the only destiny thought of for the enemies of Jehovah is utter destruction. But in this Psalm there is another alternative. Instead of dashing themselves in pieces against Jehovah’s buckler, His enemies are welcome to become His friends. No wonder they can hardly believe this; and their state of mind, as they draw near to make their peace, is described in an exquisite phrase — they “rejoice with trembling.” This is exactly the condition of mind caused by conviction of sin, when through the darkness in which the soul is enshrouded there begins to struggle the dawn of forgiving love. But this dawn will grow and broaden, till, in the full enjoyment of salvation, all trembling comes to an end. Therefore, the Psalm closes with words of perfect peace — and it is to those who have been enemies they are spoken — “Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him.” This is nothing but the voice of the Gospel.