Study Desk

A Psalm of the Sons of Korah God majestic, praise abounds in our God-city! His sacred mountain, breathtaking in its heights—earth's joy. Zion Mountain looms in the North, city of the world-King. God in his citadel peaks impregnable.

You smashed the ships of Tarshish with a storm out of the East. We heard about it, then we saw it with our eyes— In God 's city of Angel Armies, in the city our God Set on firm foundations, firm forever.

We pondered your love-in-action, God, waiting in your temple: Your name, God, evokes a train of Hallelujahs wherever It is spoken, near and far; your arms are heaped with goodness-in-action.

Circle Zion, take her measure, count her fortress peaks, Gaze long at her sloping bulwark, climb her citadel heights— Then you can tell the next generation detail by detail the story of God, Our God forever, who guides us till the end of time.

This is what happens to those who live for the moment, who only look out for themselves: Death herds them like sheep straight to hell; they disappear down the gullet of the grave; They waste away to nothing— nothing left but a marker in a cemetery. But me? God snatches me from the clutch of death, he reaches down and grabs me.

An Asaph Psalm The God of gods—it's God !—speaks out, shouts, "Earth!" welcomes the sun in the east, farewells the disappearing sun in the west. From the dazzle of Zion, God blazes into view. Our God makes his entrance, he's not shy in his coming. Starbursts of fireworks precede him.

The whole cosmos attests to the fairness of this court, that here God is judge.

"Are you listening, dear people? I'm getting ready to speak; Israel, I'm about ready to bring you to trial. This is God, your God, speaking to you. I don't find fault with your acts of worship, the frequent burnt sacrifices you offer. But why should I want your blue-ribbon bull, or more and more goats from your herds? Every creature in the forest is mine, the wild animals on all the mountains. I know every mountain bird by name; the scampering field mice are my friends. If I get hungry, do you think I'd tell you? All creation and its bounty are mine. Do you think I feast on venison? or drink draughts of goats' blood? Spread for me a banquet of praise, serve High God a feast of kept promises, And call for help when you're in trouble— I'll help you, and you'll honor me."

Next, God calls up the wicked: "What are you up to, quoting my laws, talking like we are good friends? You never answer the door when I call; you treat my words like garbage. If you find a thief, you make him your buddy; adulterers are your friends of choice. Your mouth drools filth; lying is a serious art form with you. You stab your own brother in the back, rip off your little sister. I kept a quiet patience while you did these things; you thought I went along with your game. I'm calling you on the carpet, now, laying your wickedness out in plain sight.

A David Psalm, After He Was Confronted by Nathan About the Affair with Bathsheba Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record. Scrub away my guilt, soak out my sins in your laundry. I know how bad I've been; my sins are staring me down.

Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life. Tune me in to foot-tapping songs, set these once-broken bones to dancing. Don't look too close for blemishes, give me a clean bill of health. God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life. Don't throw me out with the trash, or fail to breathe holiness in me. Bring me back from gray exile, put a fresh wind in my sails! Give me a job teaching rebels your ways so the lost can find their way home. Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God, and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways. Unbutton my lips, dear God; I'll let loose with your praise.

Going through the motions doesn't please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you. I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don't for a moment escape God's notice.

God will tear you limb from limb, sweep you up and throw you out, Pull you up by the roots from the land of life.

And I'm an olive tree, growing green in God's house. I trusted in the generous mercy of God then and now.

A David Psalm Bilious and bloated, they gas, "God is gone." It's poison gas— they foul themselves, they poison Rivers and skies; thistles are their cash crop. God sticks his head out of heaven. He looks around. He's looking for someone not stupid— one man, even, God-expectant, just one God-ready woman.

Night is coming for them, and nightmare— a nightmare they'll never wake up from. God will make hash of these squatters, send them packing for good.

Is there anyone around to save Israel? God turns life around. Turned-around Jacob skips rope, turned-around Israel sings laughter.

A David Psalm, When the Ziphites Reported to Saul, "David Is Hiding Out with Us" God, for your sake, help me! Use your influence to clear me. Listen, God—I'm desperate. Don't be too busy to hear me.

Outlaws are out to get me, hit men are trying to kill me. Nothing will stop them; God means nothing to them.

Oh, look! God's right here helping! God 's on my side, Evil is looping back on my enemies. Don't let up! Finish them off!