Preaching the Psalms as Stories...Continued from page 2

For this reason the meaning of a psalm is not just a matter of line-by-line interpretation. To understand the psalm’s intent, we must see where on the story arc the psalm falls. Telling the meaning of the psalm is not only telling what is happening, but what has happened and what we expect to happen next in the story.

The role of the preacher is to bridge the gap between the psalm-story and our story. This can be done in several different ways, depending on how much of the story is revealed in the psalm.  

We may tell the story that is there.  

In a handful of Psalms, we can see the full arc of the story. Psalm 23, Psalm 73, and Psalm 136 are examples. If the whole story is there, all we need to do is tell the story with creativity, vividness and relevance.  

Psalm 23 may seem like an odd addition to this list of examples, but it shows all the elements of story. Psalm 23 begins with an indisputable proposition: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.” It then follows the shepherd and his sheep on a journey that challenges that proposition. After going through the green pastures and still waters, He leads them on a narrow path, the path of righteousness. This path leads through the “valley of the shadow of death,” a place of great danger. This is the upset, the place where faith is challenged. As long as the sheep trusts the shepherd, he fears no evil. Finally, they come to a place of refreshing, in the presence of enemies. At last, the sheep and shepherd come home to the house of then shepherd where they abide together forever. The problem is solved through trust in God, and a new equilibrium is established.

We may anticipate the resolution that is coming.  

Many psalms, (120 and 137, for example), end without resolution. They pick up the story at the worst moment, at the depths of the upset. Preaching these psalms requires that we fill in the rest of the story, revealing that God’s deliverance is on the way.

Psalm 137 is a song of grief for a believer who has been torn from his home. It picks up the story at the bottom of a well of grief. There is no resolution to it; it is a raw cry of anguish. From the famous opening words, “By the rivers of Babylon we sat and we wept as we remembered Zion,” to the shocking closing curse, “Happy is the man who repays you for what you have done for us ? happy is the man who seizes your children and dashes their heads against the rocks,” the Psalmist cries out in pain.  

The emotions in this psalm are real and powerful. But the context of this psalm in the history of Israel shows us that God did not leave His people in pain. He allowed them to cry, but He also brought them home again. There is no suggestion that God ever encouraged His people to commit infanticide against the Babylonians, or that the Israelites ever did any such thing. It does demonstrate, though, that even in the deepest sorrow, God accepts our grief and anger.