Psalm 50:1The MessageThe 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. See the chapter |
35 Cross References
The Levites assigned Heman son of Joel, and from his family, Asaph son of Berekiah, then Ethan son of Kushaiah from the family of Merari, and after them in the second rank their brothers Zechariah, Jaaziel, Shemiramoth, Jehiel, Unni, Eliab, Benaiah, Maaseiah, Mattithiah, Eliphelehu, Mikneiah, Obed-Edom, and Jeiel as security guards.
David left Asaph and his coworkers with the Chest of the Covenant of God and in charge of the work of worship; they were responsible for the needs of worship around the clock. He also assigned Obed-Edom and his sixty-eight relatives to help them. Obed-Edom son of Jeduthun and Hosah were in charge of the security guards. The priest Zadok and his family of priests were assigned to the Tent of God at the sacred mound at Gibeon to make sure that the services of morning and evening worship were conducted daily, complete with Whole-Burnt-Offerings offered on the Altar of Burnt Offering, as ordered in the Law of God, which was the norm for Israel. With them were Heman, Jeduthun, and others specifically named, with the job description: “Give thanks to God, for his love never quits!” Heman and Jeduthun were also well equipped with trumpets, cymbals, and other instruments for accompanying sacred songs. The sons of Jeduthun formed the security guard.
And now, our God, the great God, God majestic and terrible, loyal in covenant and love, Don’t treat lightly the trouble that has come to us, to our kings and princes, our priests and prophets, Our ancestors, and all your people from the time of the Assyrian kings right down to today. You are not to blame for all that has come down on us; You did everything right, we did everything wrong. None of our kings, princes, priests, or ancestors followed your Revelation; They ignored your commands, dismissed the warnings you gave them. Even when they had their own kingdom and were enjoying your generous goodness, Living in that spacious and fertile land that you spread out before them, They didn’t serve you or turn their backs on the practice of evil. And here we are, slaves again today; and here’s the land you gave our ancestors So they could eat well and enjoy a good life, and now look at us—no better than slaves on this land. Its wonderful crops go to the kings you put over us because of our sins; They act like they own our bodies and do whatever they like with our cattle. We’re in deep trouble.
No doubt about it! God is good— good to good people, good to the good-hearted. But I nearly missed it, missed seeing his goodness. I was looking the other way, looking up to the people At the top, envying the wicked who have it made, Who have nothing to worry about, not a care in the whole wide world.
Listen, dear friends, to God’s truth, bend your ears to what I tell you. I’m chewing on the morsel of a proverb; I’ll let you in on the sweet old truths, Stories we heard from our fathers, counsel we learned at our mother’s knee. We’re not keeping this to ourselves, we’re passing it along to the next generation— God’s fame and fortune, the marvelous things he has done.
God! Barbarians have broken into your home, violated your holy temple, left Jerusalem a pile of rubble! They’ve served up the corpses of your servants as carrion food for birds of prey, Threw the bones of your holy people out to the wild animals to gnaw on. They dumped out their blood like buckets of water. All around Jerusalem, their bodies were left to rot, unburied. We’re nothing but a joke to our neighbors, graffiti scrawled on the city walls.
A song to our strong God! a shout to the God of Jacob! Anthems from the choir, music from the band, sweet sounds from lute and harp, Trumpets and trombones and horns: it’s festival day, a feast to God! A day decreed by God, solemnly ordered by the God of Jacob. He commanded Joseph to keep this day so we’d never forget what he did in Egypt. I hear this most gentle whisper from One I never guessed would speak to me:
God, don’t shut me out; don’t give me the silent treatment, O God. Your enemies are out there whooping it up, the God-haters are living it up; They’re plotting to do your people in, conspiring to rob you of your precious ones. “Let’s wipe this nation from the face of the earth,” they say; “scratch Israel’s name off the books.” And now they’re putting their heads together, making plans to get rid of you.
Heaven and earth, you’re the jury. Listen to God’s case: “I had children and raised them well, and they turned on me. The ox knows who’s boss, the mule knows the hand that feeds him, But not Israel. My people don’t know up from down. Shame! Misguided God-dropouts, staggering under their guilt-baggage, Villainous gang, band of vandals— My people have walked out on me, their God, turned their backs on The Holy of Israel, walked off and never looked back.
All this is nothing compared to you, O God. You’re wondrously great, famously great. Who can fail to be impressed by you, King of the nations? It’s your very nature to be worshiped! Look far and wide among the elite of the nations. The best they can come up with is nothing compared to you. Stupidly, they line them up—a lineup of sticks, good for nothing but making smoke. Gilded with silver foil from Tarshish, covered with gold from Uphaz, Hung with violet and purple fabrics— no matter how fancy the sticks, they’re still sticks.
Advertisements