Murmurs
This September and October, we are reading through the Book of Psalms. There are a handful of different genre of psalms, and we are going to read one of each type in worship. Today’s Psalm is a wisdom psalm, more particularly a psalm about God’s torah. I’ll say more about torah in a few minutes, but for now think of it as God’s instructions for living in a redeemed world.
We begin with Psalm 1. Hear now what the Spirit is saying to the Church.
Happy are those
who do not follow the advice of the wicked,
or take the path that sinners tread,
or sit in the seat of scoffers;
but their delight is in the [torah of YHWH]
and [they murmur torah day and night]
They are like trees
planted by streams of water,
which yield their fruit in its season,
and their leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.The wicked are not so,
they are the dry leaves that wind blows away.
Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;
for the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish.
A little Bible trivia: The Bible begins and ends with a tree.
In Genesis, the story begins with the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It is planted in the middle of the Garden of Eden. A river flows out of Eden to nourish this tree and becomes the four major rivers of the settled world. This is what God intends for creation.
And in Revelation 22, the final chapter of the Bible, an angel shows John “the river of the water of life, as bright as crystal.” It nourishes the tree of life. This tree was planted by the water. Its fruit produces each month, and its leaves are for the healing of the nations.
No wonder that the first image we read in the psalter is a tree. And it is the poet’s prayer that we are like a tree planted by the water—whose fruits yield in its season and who leaves prosper. It is the poet’s prayer that we see God’s intention for creation and that we see God’s redemption.
* * *
Psalm 1 serves as a prologue for all the psalms. There are hints this psalm wasn’t even originally numbered, rather it came before the first psalm as a sort of epigraph. What we hear in this psalm is an admonition to root one’s self in the words that follow like a tree is planted by the water.
Psalm 1 is indicative of a small set of psalms called wisdom psalms. For the most part, our psalmists—who I prefer to call poets—leave wisdom to the Book of Proverbs, and they willingly explore more intense, complicated theological reflection. But it is still wise to be rooted in God’s instruction.
Frankly, I found parts of the translations found in your pew bible kind of boring. For example, verse 2 upholds a person “whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law they meditate day and night.”
Instead of the word mediate, which sounds quiet, introspective, and almost passive, replace it with the word murmur. If any of you are writers, one of the first rules is to wield strong verbs. “They murmur God’s torah night and day.”
The Hebrew words suggests (in a culture that didn’t read silently) that the words of torah are to repeated over and over again. These words are to be read perpetually. They are to be spoken into the world, even if it is in a hush tone. This offers us a reading strategy for all the poems that follow in the Psalter.
The poems that follows are a sound track to faithful living. They are high and lows to every movie soundtrack—the love song, the break up song, the song of catastrophe and complaint, maybe a song with a little bit of remorse and forgiveness, the song of victory, and the song of thanksgiving. All of them follow. We need all of those expressions to understand faithful living. I imagine this soundtrack sounds like a murmur. In particular, this murmur may sound like water moving past a tree planted by water.
You who are happy in the ways of the Lord are not planted next to a quiet stream. You are planted, I imagine, next to a murmuring stream. It is a stream that speaks torah to you declaring the glory of God. Every wish and wash is telling you of God’s goodness and grace. Every splash and splatter is reminding you of God’s righteousness and justice. Every burble is calling out to you to trust in God.
I can’t imagine this stream as a quiet stream.
* * *
Consider the streams of water throughout the Psalms.
A poet in Psalm 42 says: “Like a deer pants for the water, so I long after you.”
The poet in Psalm 46 is convinced that “there is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved.”
And, of course, Psalm 23: “He leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul.”
Rivers in these psalms suggest a divine presence. This is not a placid, indifferent presence, rather it is a transforming presence. The streams signify a presence of a nurturing God who is bringing something new into fruition. Verse 3 says that this fruit will yield fruit in its season.
There is a longing for these places because these are the places that “God is doing something.” God is restoring the creation. The rivers signify something which is not yet, but is sure to come. The one yearning for the water—who wants to be planted beside it like a tree—is expressing a dissatisfaction with the world the way it is. The poet in Psalm 1 is dissatisfied by the wicked—dissatisfied by a world colored by fear—dissatisfied the anxiety-based practices that dominate our thinking.
But “happy is the one who doesn’t take such advice, rather delights in the Torah of YHWH.”
* * *
The water is murmuring.
That is a good thing because the water is about God’s presence.
Throughout the Psalms, there is a rawness to this poetry. The psalms are honest. They get angry at God. They express desire for a world made new. Hope in God is always trying to be renewed. The poets get fed up with the brokenness of the world, and yearn for the redeeming presence of God. In the aftermath of victory and satisfaction, these poems express unfettered joy and thanksgiving.
As we read these psalms, we are in some ways murmuring torah.
What is this Torah? Yes. It is a Jewish name of the first five books of the Bible, and it is so much more. Torah is God’s revealed instruction. It is God’s guidance to people who have been freed on how to remain free. It’s God teaching on human flourishing. The content of such torah is how to live in a redeemed world as freed people.
* * *
Psalms 1—like psalms 19 and 119—are Torah psalms. They are psalms about being faithful to God’s instruction. This obedience is celebrated and enjoyed because the poet knows that God’s torah is intended for freedom and flourishing. Psalm 19, for example, describes this torah using six parallel words that lead to six new possibilities.
The torah of the Lord is perfect; reviving the soul.
The decree of the Lord is sure; making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right; rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is pure; enlightening the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is pure; enduring forever
The ordnances of the lord are true and righteous all together.
Listening to torah be murmured day and night is healing and transformative. What we see in these torah psalms is appreciation for God’s direction and instruction. Obedience to torah is not mechanical; it is life-giving and nourishing. Or, in the verbs given by Psalm 19, obedience to torah is reviving, making, rejoicing, enlightening, enduring. It is rootedness in the possibility that God intends for creation.
* * *
There is a classic American poem by Robert Frost titled the “The Road Not Taken.” The poem begins with the words, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, / And sorry I could not travel both…” The speaker of the poem chooses the road less traveled. The poem ends with these words, “I shall be telling this with a sigh / Somewhere ages and ages hence: / Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— / I took the one less traveled by, / And that has made all the difference.”
While it is one of the most well-known poems, it also widely misunderstood. We often use the poem to a champion ethic of marching to sound of your own drummer—or taking the courageous path. It has become a hymn of triumphant individualism. We exalt the speaker of the poem for going his own way. But when you listen carefully, it is really a poem of regret. “I’m sorry I couldn’t travel both. … Looking back, I sigh that I took the road less traveled.”
The speaker of the poem is chagrined about his decision.
I think we can relate to the speaker of the poem. We often want it both ways. We want to take the road of faith, but we also want what is available to everyone else. We want to be faithful, but we also want the over indulgences of American culture. We want to be faithful to God, but we also want simple answers. We want to trust in God, but we want to cling to a sense of security. We want to be fearless followers of Jesus, but with a slight tug of anxiety we choose to live as if God didn’t really exist.
The psalmist makes it clear. You have a choice to make. Do you rejoice in obedience to God’s teaching, or do you take the “path that sinners tread?” It is a stark contrast in Psalm 1—no doubt. Are you planted like a blossoming tree besides the water, or do you wither and get blown away?
* * *
Today I’d like to think that God planted the child we are baptizing today by the water.
Jesus describes himself as living water in the New Testament: “Anyone who is thirsty may come to me! Anyone who believes in me may come and drink!” Jesus, in many ways, is the embodiment of torah. Jesus is God’s instruction—God’s desire for us—God’s will made flesh.
Through her baptism, I trust that she will be nourished and sustained by the murmurs of torah. One of our jobs is to repeat these songs night and day so that we never cease hearing God’s desire for us. I also trust that the tree is a tree of hope for a redeemed word.
We are baptized into Christ Jesus—the living waters—and just as we have been buried with Christ by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of God, so we too might walk in newness of life.
Being planted by the water, roots us in the newness of life. It roots us in hope. And along that murmuring stream, we are nourished and fed by a God who will never forsake us. We don’t need to be stubborn and immovable with where the world is; we need to be rooted in God’s hope for the world.
* * *
For me there is no more apparent than in an African-American spiritual turned Civil Rights anthem. If I could sing for you today, I would. However, I’m just going to have to murmur.
I shall not, I shall not be moved.
I shall not, I shall not be moved.
Just like a tree planted by the waters.
I shall not be moved.
And another verse.
With Jesus beside me, I shall not be moved.
With Jesus beside me, I shall not be moved.
Just like a tree planted by the waters.
I shall not be moved.
There are hundred of verses.
Fighting for our children, we shall not be moved.
Fighting for our children, we shall not be moved.
Just like a tree planted by the waters.
We shall not be moved.
When I hear this song, especially in the context of people putting their lives on the line for a better world, I hear people being rooted in God’s hope for creation. I see the stream that goes by the city of God. The tree planted by the water yields its fruit.
Being planted by the waters, isn’t about being stubborn and obstinate about ourselves. Being planted by the water is not to quickly succumb to the world it is. You are not to be the dry leaves that the wind blows away. Rather, being a tree the planted by the water is to yield everything to God’s hope—to yield everything to God’s will—to yield everything for God’s desire for the world. It is to nourished by a God who is always faithful.
So would you join me in murmuring something?
We shall not….we shall not be moved.
We shall not….we shall not be moved.
Like a tree planted by the water;
We shall not be moved.