Psalm 75:1The MessageWe thank you, God, we thank you— your Name is our favorite word; your mighty works are all we talk about. See the chapter |
We’ve been hearing about this, God, all our lives. Our fathers told us the stories their fathers told them, How single-handedly you weeded out the godless from the fields and planted us, How you sent those people packing but gave us a fresh start. We didn’t fight for this land; we didn’t work for it—it was a gift! You gave it, smiling as you gave it, delighting as you gave it.
Be good to me, God—and now! I’ve run to you for dear life. I’m hiding out under your wings until the hurricane blows over. I call out to High God, the God who holds me together. He sends orders from heaven and saves me, he humiliates those who kick me around. God delivers generous love, he makes good on his word.
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.