I will always remember my first trip through the Rocky Mountains, when I was ten years old. The rugged, towering mountains were beautiful, but their impact on our family was heightened by our repeated cries of “Oh! Look at that! Isn’t it beautiful!” and “Look! Look! Have you ever seen anything so awesome?”
Had each of us kept his thoughts to himself, we might all have forgotten that drive by now. Instead, not only the vistas but also the original excitement remained forever imprinted in our minds. It is not for nothing that the Psalms so frequently urge God’s people to sing, to shout, to clap, to make a joyful noise to the Lord.
Psalm 104 begins, “Praise Jahweh, O my soul,” and all that follows is a joyous expression of praise, until, in the last verse, the psalmist’s longing for the fullness of righteousness bursts forth in a painful cry at the thought of the wicked only to be drowned out by renewed praise.
How would he praise God? By telling both God and others of Jahweh’s “splendor and majesty” (verse 1).
In his excitement he spoke first to himself: “Praise Jahweh, O my soul.” Then he addressed God directly: “O Jahweh my God, you are very great; you are clothed with splendor and majesty.” Then, unable to keep the wonder to himself and God, he turned to anyone who would hear, saying, “He wraps himself in light as with a garment; he stretches out the heavens like a tent and lays the beams of his upper chambers on their waters” (verses 2, 3).
After that he alternated between addressing God and addressing others, like an actor on a stage who makes the audience part of the play. We can almost see him turning sometimes backstage, face lifted high as he speaks to God; sometimes toward the audience, hand thrown up behind him pointing to God, while he invites us to join him in praise. “Look! Look!” he says. “This is the God I’m talking to! This is the God I’ve told you about!”
What moved him to praise? He saw the world and was overwhelmed with its beauty in form and function. He stared with “wide‑eyed, childlike astonishment at the marvelous, mystifying handiwork of Jahweh” and gave the only fitting response, as Calvin Seerveld put it. He saw the world as “the stunning theatre, workshop, playground, of our Father in heaven. . . .”
The psalmist structured his praises roughly according to the days of creation.
He spoke of the first day, when God created the Heavens, the Earth, and light and darkness; of the second, when God distinguished sky from earth; of the third, when God separated seas and lakes from dry land, and created plant life; of the fourth, when God separated night from day; of the fifth and sixth, when God made all the creatures of sea, sky, and land, including man, blessed them, and told them to multiply; and finally of the seventh day, the day of God’s rest.
Finally, reflecting on the goodness and beauty of pristine creation, and shocked by its contrast with the sinful, cursed world he now inhabited, he longed for the eternal Sabbath when again God’s glory would be perfectly proclaimed by a creation untainted by wickedness, when God would look again on everything He had made and declare it “very good” (Genesis 1:31).
What you’ve just read is the beginning of chapter 1, on Psalm 104, of my book Psalms of Promise: Celebrating the Majesty and Faithfulness of God. I want you to be able to read the whole book, so for the month of February, the Cornwall Alliance will send a FREE copy of Psalms of Promise to anyone who donates any amount and requests it, or who is signed up for automatic monthly donations.
Featured Image Courtesy of kancp26/Freedigitalphotos.net
