If you know me at all, you know that I’m a pretty big sucker for giveaways. I thought I’d let you know about Moody’s current Cover to Cover contest–the prize is every single book they publish in 2014 as well as their upcoming commentary series. Furthermore, you can download a free ebook just for entering. It’s at least worth a look!
Jared Wilson writes this penetrating and insightful connection between Genesis 1 and you and I:
In the beginning, God created my body and mind.
But my heart was without form and void, and darkness was over my soul. And the Spirit of God was hovering over my way and hounding me.And God said, “Let there be light,” and a divine and supernatural light was imparted to me, illuminating my senses with his glory to behold his glory. And God breathed his Spirit into me and gave me life.
Read the rest over at The Gospel-Driven Church.
The Psalms are an odd bird in the biblical canon; not only do we have trouble in referring to them (is it Psalm 32 or Psalms 32?), we’re not even really sure what to do with them content-wise. Are they supposed to comfort us? A mere expression of our emotional state? If so, what do we do with the baby-smashing imprecatory psalms? Furthermore, the question of how we should view them this side of calvary is also a bit muddy in the popular-level Christian mind. Are they outmoded or just as relevant as the day they were written? Such simple, foundational questions unnerve some who might otherwise enter the world of the Psalms, and those who can enter generally do so on an entirely intuitive gut level with very little, if any, mental cognition. We dedicate very little of the hermeneutical rigor that we would devote to other passages of scripture (save for noting the presence of various poetic devices). There are some who would have it otherwise.
Released this year by Moody Publishers, The Psalms: Language for All Seasons of the Soul (edited by Andrew J. Schmutzer and David M. Howard Jr.) is a compendium of 19 essays written by top Old Testament scholars in the field of Psalms studies as a sort of survey of the current academic landscape. Though not aimed at a popular-level audience, the book aims to help Christian academics and clergy get up-to-date on the latest scholarship and research on the Psalter. Divided into five parts (Psalm Studies in the Twenty-First Century, Psalms of Praise, Psalms of Lament, Considering the Canon, and Communicating the Psalms), this book first takes a high-level look at the current tools and methods available today with which to study the Psalms, as well as their place in the life of the Christian and of the church at large.
Parts two and three zoom in to take a closer look at psalms of praise and lament, and how we are to understand and interpret them. The section on lament is the longest in the book, and perhaps rightly so—as noted in the introduction, the somber tone of lament isn’t exactly fun to talk about; it doesn’t “sell.” These two sections are a great help as a sample of how to interpret praise and lament psalms. Part four, Considering the Canon, steps back to a higher-level perspective and uses canon-criticism to analyze the shape of the book of Psalms to see if there is any rhyme or reason to its internal ordering or if it is basically “random” as has been thought for most of the twentieth century. The fifth part rounds out the book wonderfully with four modern psalm sermons. As a pastor and preacher, this was incredibly helpful to see what it might look like to preach on the psalms to contemporary audiences.
The Psalms is genuinely interesting, engaging, and challenging. Perhaps I was out of the loop, but I had always assumed that the canonical shape of the Psalms was rather hodgepodge. Section four, and especially chapter 14 (“The Return of the King: Book V as a Witness to Messianic Hope in the Psalter”)stands in direct confrontation to this notion. Examining the five books of the Psalter from a narrative-critical perspective, one actually does find some semblance of an editorial plot line in the Psalter about the Davidic kingship and his royal line. It even goes some distance in explaining potentially troubling questions such as why Psalm 72:20 says that it concludes the prayers of David when it clearly doesn’t (e.g. Pss 101, 103, 108-110, etc.). I won’t, however, spoil the resolution to that question!
The sections on lament and praise were also wonderfully interesting and helpful too, in the sense that they give a direction forward for how to responsibly use them in a church. For some more liturgical churches that follow the calendar this may be less helpful, but within my denominational world where the Psalms rarely get any air time, a course has been charted on how to understand and use them.
While I personally have experience in the art and science of modern evangelical hermeneutics, I do not know ancient Hebrew (yet). This was certainly a hindrance in my full comprehension of the book, though it by no means stopped me from appreciating it in part. Since many of the essays rely fairly heavily on Hebrew text, I would (as a reviewer) at least caution a potential reader to know that going in. Furthermore, if you do not have at least a passing acquaintance with modern critical methods of interpretation then this book will be even more opaque to you (especially section one). This is why I would not recommend it to a popular audience, but would to a theologically trained audience.
This is without a doubt an incredibly helpful and timely collection; perhaps this will signal a new day in the rigorous study of the Psalms for the life of the church. May we love the Lord our God through the Psalms not only with our heart and soul, but indeed also with our mind.
You can purchase a copy on Amazon (paperback $22/kindle $10) or CBD Reformed (paperback $18).
DISCLAIMER: I received a copy of this book from the publisher for the purpose of this review.
Mmm. Well said, John Brown. Well said.
I know the vanity of your heart, and that you will feel mortified that your congregation is very small, in comparison with those of your brethren around you; but assure yourself on the word of an old man, that when you come to give an account of them to the Lord Christ at his judgment seat, you will think you have had enough.
In this recent article, Brian Croft states exquisitely well what I feel when I hear and participate in the conversation of the church world regarding numbers and size. He just knocks it out of the park. I’m not going to recapitulate everything he said, but I do believe he’s right. If you read his article, be careful to recognize that he’s not saying “small churches are better than big ones” like some sort of spiritualized short man complex. His point is simply that size isn’t primary. Whether you’ve got 25 people, 200, or 12,000, our job descriptions as pastors is to shepherd, care, and oversee souls (by definition). Our “job descriptions” as Christians includes missional service and evangelism, so don’t read faithfulness as over and against fruitfulness.
I’m not against growth and I’m not necessarily for some arbitrarily small threshold. I am against a conception of church as a consumer good measured by how many people are attending a weekly Sunday service. At that point we might as well just create a fantasy church league where you can recruit your favorite pastors for one all-star staff.
His cure was wide, with houses far asunder;
But never did he fail, in rain or thunder,
In sickness and in mischance, to visit all,
The furthest in his parish, great or small,
Upon his feet, with staff in hand for aid.
Here is an excerpt from an interview with Paul Washer that will make your heart leap for Christ:
The person that I most admire is Jesus Christ. He is the only perfect Person. There is simply no comparison. The difference between Him and all other men is not merely quantitative, but qualitative. He is in a category all to Himself. The most precise and thoughtful scholar is limited in what he knows and wrong in some things that he affirms; the most devoted saint is stained with sin and full of error; the bravest heart among us will fail and break; but Christ is altogether lovely, holy, and unfailing.
Next time you don’t have any scissors handy, try this trick.
If you haven’t seen this yet, it’s pretty remarkable. A team of folks created a moving timelapse film. It’s breathtaking, though!
One thing I very much enjoy about Google is their endless supply of Easter eggs in their products. Did you know they have a “treasure map” mode for Google maps?
I just finished reading The Four Loves by CS Lewis. He never fails to fascinate me. Listen to this and tell me he’s not describing you with the precision of a surgeon with a scalpel.
No sooner do we believe that God loves us than there is an impulse to believe that He does so, not because He is Love, but because we are intrinsically lovable. The Pagans obeyed this impulse unabashed; a good man was “dear to the gods” because he was good. We, being better taught, resort to subterfuge. Far be it from us to think that we have virtues for which God could love us. But then, how magnificently we have repented! As Bunyan says, describing his first and illusory conversion, “I thought there was no man in England that pleased God better than I.” Beaten out of this, we next offer our own humility to God’s admiration. Surely he’ll like that? Or if not that, our clear-sighted and humble recognition that we still lack humility. Thus, depth beneath depth and subtlety within subtlety, there remains some lingering idea of our own, our very own, attractiveness. It is easy to acknowledge, but almost impossible to realise for long, that we are mirrors whose brightness, if we are bright, is wholly derived from the sun that shines upon us. Surely we must have a little—however little—native luminosity?
Ben Makuh 