Finding Your Way in a Strange Wood (Psalm 68)

Your procession is seen, O God,
the procession of my God, my King, into the sanctuary—

—Psalm 68:24

“Don’t miss the forrest for the trees” is perhaps the most sound advice one can give for making it through the dense wood of this psalm. The real problem with this wood is not the density of the forrest, but the peculiarity of a few trees. Michael Wilcock explains, “we are especially likely to be unable to see the wood for the trees if we spend too much time scratching our heads over this or that specimen which we cannot identify. If in a psalm like this one we stand back from the individual trees, we shall be in a better position to get an overall picture of the wood, and shall find ourselves exclaiming at its magnificence.” One scholar, and he’s not alone, says that this is “the most difficult of all the psalms.”

As I look from one tree to another, I can get overwhelmed by how many I cannot identify. I begin to feel lost as though I’m in an unfamiliar forest. Here are just a few of the things I don’t know:

  • I’m not certain if the rain of vv. 8–9 is a rain of judgment or providence or both. Is this a rain that sweeps away the wicked? Is it a shower that gives a harvest?
  • I’m undetermined if the women and men in vv. 12b–13a are in contrast as in the ESV or in harmony as in the CSB.
  • I’ve only a guess at what the wings of a dove covered in silver are in verse 13.
  • I have absolutely no idea what the snow on Zalmon in verse 14 is about.

It can be overwhelming. If you’re just first beginning to read through the Bible I’m sure you understand. You can get so preoccupied with what you don’t know that you lose sight of what is clear. “Don’t loose the forrest for the trees” is a sound hermeneutical principle that translates to this—remember the bigger story. Let all the peculiar trees remind you that you are indeed still in the forest. The same forest that centers around the tree of life, the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. And when you do so, you slowly begin to notice that this psalm is an ascension hymn!

That is not to say it is a Psalm of Ascent, like those from Psalm 120 to Psalm 134 which were sung by pilgrims ascending to Jerusalem. Neither is it a coronation psalm, like the 2nd Psalm, wherein God’s Son ascends to take the throne. No, this is a psalm about the ascent of the ark of God to it’s home in Jerusalem. For all the puzzles of this psalm, I’m utterly persuaded that this psalm was written when David brought the ark from the house of Obed-edom to dwell in Jerusalem with a great multitude in loud celebration.

“David went and brought up the ark of God from the house of Obed-edom to the city of David with rejoicing. And when those who bore the ark of the LORD had gone six steps, he sacrificed an ox and a fattened animal. And David danced before the LORD with all his might. And David was wearing a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel brought up the ark of the LORD with shouting and with the sound of the horn” (2 Samuel 6:12–15).

Read this psalm from the perspective of the ark: constructed under Moses, set in the tent, the glory of God dwelling amongst His people and going before them, destined to come to a place of rest—a home where God would make His name to dwell among His people. Read it from this perspective and see if you don’t find yourself marveling at the wood.

What Missions Is About (Psalm 67)

Psalm 67:3–5 (ESV)

Let the peoples praise you, O God;
    let all the peoples praise you!        
Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, 
     for you judge the peoples with equity 
     and guide the nations upon earth. Selah 
Let the peoples praise you, O God; 
     let all the peoples praise you!

—Psalm 67:3–5

The 67th psalm opens with a self-benediction, “May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us.” We all pray this way, seeking God’s blessing, but it is the benedictory form, “May…,” that seems out of sorts. The grammar is familiar. It is the form of address to oneself that is striking.

You might well recognize the vocabulary of the Aaronic blessing. It will be helpful to recall it in its fuller context.

“The LORD spoke to Moses, saying, “Speak to Aaron and his sons, saying, Thus you shall bless the people of Israel: you shall say to them, The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. ‘So shall they put my name upon the people of Israel, and I will bless them’” (Numbers 6:22–27).

The priest pronounces the benediction on the people—that is the norm. That is what we expect. Israel here is not only acting like a priest, she is acting like a priest pronouncing a benediction on herself.

Israel pronounces the Aaronic blessing on herself for the sake of the Abrahamic blessing (v. 2). “May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us, that your way may be known on earth, your saving power among all nations.” God made a covenant with Abraham saying, “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:1–3) God then redeems the children of Abraham out of Egypt to be a kingdom of priests. At Sinai God spoke to them saying, “Now therefore, if you will indeed obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession among all peoples, for all the earth is mine; and you shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation…” (Exodus 19:5–6). As a kingdom of priests, Israel was to mediate God’s blessing on the nations. 

The latter portion of Isaiah speaks of the true servant Israel, a singular person, who will gather Israel back to God. He is everything Israel failed to be. He is the true servant of Yahweh, and Yahweh says to Him, “I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6) This is what Israel as a kingdom of priests was to be—a light for the nations, that His salvation might reach to the end of the earth.

Israel pronounces the Aaronic blessing on herself for the sake of the Abrahamic blessing. Even so, this benediction, for this purpose, might bother us—it might well bother us if we suspected that this was all that was desired. It is like the parent that seeks self-blessing for the good of their children. Selfishness might still be in play. Such a prayer may be an expression of idolatry. It is too easy to miss the point of this self-benediction for what is really only a means to the point. It is too easy to take the secondary for the primary.

Israel does not pronounce this self-benediction simply for the benefit of the nations. She asks to be blessed of the Lord, that His way might be known on earth and His saving power among all the nations. That is what missions is about. Is is not about the nations of the earth. It is about the Lord of the nations. That is why the refrain of this psalm is not, “refrain, “Save the peoples, O God; save all the peoples” but rather, ““Let all the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.”

The Soloist and the Choir (Psalm 66)

Come and see what God has done: 
     he is awesome in his deeds toward the children of man.

Come and hear, all you who fear God, 
     and I will tell what he has done for my soul.

—Psalm 66:5, 16

Here we have both a song to sing and a song to hear. We have a choir and a soloist. We might expect a song to swell from a soloist to a choir. Or, we may be prepared for a song to have a quiet resolve as it moves from the choir to a soloist. What is unexpected is for a song to swell and build from a choir to a single voice.

Our song opens with the choir of Israel inviting the nations to sing. It closes with a soloist inviting Israel to hear. And as it does so, the song swells. Here we find both a song we are to sing and a song we are to hear. The solo we are invited to hear is the louder and sweeter stanza.

Who may sing such a solo to rise above the collected shout of the redeemed? From one perspective, we cannot be certain. The psalm is unattributed. Yet, I am certain, that the Psalter itself wants us to think of the king. There are three reasons for this.

Fist, there is the Davidic context of the psalm. The Psalter is divided into five books. Book Two begins with the 42nd Psalm and ends with the 72nd. Of these thirty one psalms, only four are not attributed to anyone. And one of those, the 43rd Psalm, is clearly linked with the 42nd which is ascribed to Korah. Now we’re down to three. The 66th Psalm is then the first truly unattributed psalm we have seen in the second book. Psalms 51–65 have all been attributed to David. Psalms 68–70 are attributed to David. In between we have two unattributed “songs.” They are part of a collection of four “songs” (see the headings for Pss. 65–68). This psalm is one of two unattributed “songs” sandwiched between two “songs” attributed to David—all enmeshed in a larger David’s collection. This psalm has a Davidic context.

Second, the number sacrifices offered suggest a great man of great means (vv. 13–15). Who else may present such sacrifices but the king? It is David who has been making and fulfilling such vows within this book (cf. Pss. 56:12; 61:5–8;). Finally, the king represented Israel. He was their federal head. Transitioning from Israel to the king is the most natural transition we can imagine to take place.

Who may out sing the kingdom? Their King. Who may out sing the redeemed? Their Redeemer. The choir of Israel invites the nations to come and see. The Soloist, who is their King, invites the true Israel of God to come and hear. They hear a better song than they sing. His invitation stands behind their invitation. Because the King says to His kingdom “Come and hear,” the kingdom may then turn to the nations and say, “Come and see!”

A Song (Psalm 65)

“To the choirmaster. A psalm of David. A song.”

This psalm is a song. Read the heading again. It is a song. It is an infectious song. This psalm draws us in. We want to sing it. And the introduction is simple. It is easy to ignore. But let’s slow down to meditate on those two simple words—“a song.”

First, the 65th Psalm is a song. It is the first of four songs. Psalms 65, 66, 67, and 68 are all “songs.” The tone of these four songs is notably different than the psalms that have preceded. Though there have been notes of confidence, lament and supplication have dominated, whereas now, praise and adoration come to the fore.

Second, the 65th Psalm is a song. This song has three distinct parts, so distinct, some have speculated that we have three psalms that have been joined together. Throughout the psalm, God is praised, but in verses He is the Redeemer of Israel, in verses 5–8 He is the Creator of the world, and in verses 9–13 He is the Lord of the harvest.

But this is “a psalm of David” that is “a song.” How then are the three stanzas of related? Yes, God is praised throughout, but is that all that unifies this psalm as a song? We can imagine the cheap country song that praises a woman first as a daughter, then a wife, and finally a mother—different themes, same woman. Is that all that is happening here? God is praised as the God of Israel, the God of creation, and the God of the harvest—God is the unity, but is that all the unity there is?

Or think of it this way. God is at the top, sovereign over all these things. But, is God also at the bottom? Is there a unity on the other side of these things? An author may write three books, but that is different than writing three books that are a unified series. Is this psalm telling us that God is an amazing author of a number of amazing but independent books? Or is it telling us that God has written an epic series? What we are really asking is this, is there a unity in God’s work? We may praise God as the Redeemer of Israel, the Sovereign of the Earth, and Lord of the Harvest, but do we need three songs, or three unrelated stanzas to do so? God is the unifying center of all three stanzas, but does God unify the themes of all three stanzas? Are God’s acts in creation unified with His acts of redemption?

God does not have a number of projects which He has taken on independent of one another. Perhaps you’ve walked into the garage or shop of a friend to see an overwhelming number of totally diverse and unrelated projects—very few of them completed. The difference between God and that man is more than that God finishes all that He takes on and that He does it with excellence. He not only does all things perfectly, He does them purposefully—He does them with a singular purpose such that we may sing a song.

So again, how do these three stanzas relate? Here’s the answer I believe emerges from this song: God’s redemption of His people subdues the world, renews the earth, and demands praise. It is this very redemption that leads Paul to offer of the praise due to God exclaiming that all things are from Him, through Him, and to Him. All these themes come together in the redemption of Christ. If you can’t see this, I’m afraid your gospel is too small and a small gospel means a small song. Our God is due much more.

How to Meditate on Man (Psalm 64)

Hide me from the secret plots of the wicked,
from the throng of evildoers,
who whet their tongues like swords,
who aim bitter words like arrows,
shooting from ambush at the blameless,
shooting at him suddenly and without fear.

—Psalm 64:2–4

This song moves from prayer to praise and surprisingly, it does so not only as it looks at man, but as it looks at wicked men. This psalm is an inverted image of the 63rd Psalm. We can well imagine they were both written on the same occasion, but whereas the muse of the 63rd Psalm is God, that of the 64th is wicked men. The tone is different, but they harmonize. Michael Wilcock explains it this way, “His circumstances could be similar, perhaps identical, to those of Psalm 63. The difference is that there he was… seeing them as white on black, while here they are black on white. That is, in 63 he and his security in God were in the foreground and his enemies and their schemes loomed in the background; here in 64 it is the other way round.”

The 64th Psalm is not only an inversion of the 63rd, it is inverted itself—that is, it is a chiasm. But is it a chiasm not of parallels, but of contrasts. On the outside, prayer stands opposite of praise (vv. 1, 10). Further in, the secret conspiracy of men stands opposite of the public proclamation of God’s acts (vv. 2, 9). Tongues, arrows, and shooting are present in vv. 3–4 and vv. 7–8, but first man shoots and then God shoots. And at the center, is the deep and dark evil of David’s enemies. The central focus of this psalm is the deep and dark evil of David’s enemies, and still it turns from prayer to praise.

Often, in such situations, our prayer fails to turn to praise precisely because we focus on man. Normally, it is a problem when we put man in the foreground and God in the background. Prayer fails to turn to praise, because we make much of man and little of God. David’s meditation here doesn’t fail, because he thinks of man rightly. He thinks of man in light of God. God is in the background, but He is big in the background. Man is the foreground, but he is small in the foreground.

The real problem at any particular moment is not that we think on man more than God, but that we think of man as more than God. Certainly, it should be our delight and desire to think on God more, and thinking on God more, helps us to think more of God. All of this is necessary so that when man does come to the fore, we see how small he is compared to our great God in the background. You are free to think much on man, when you think much of God.

My God (Psalm 63)

Psalm 63:1 (ESV)

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; 
  my soul thirsts for you; 
my flesh faints for you, 
  as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

—Psalm 63:1

“My God”—unless you can say that, you will not understand the longing David speaks of here. “O God, you are my God.” Derek Kidner comments “The simplicity and boldness of Thou art my God is the secret of all that follows.” “Thou art my God” is the key, that unlocks the treasures of this psalm.

“The longing of these verses” Kidner tells us, “is not the groping of a stranger, feeling his way towards God, but the eagerness of a friend, almost of a lover, to be in touch with the one he holds dear.” “O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you.” If you never have this longing, this thirst, then consider that the reason may be that you cannot truly say, “my God.” Your may be in a pickle. You may want out. But you are seeking a stranger. You do not really thirst for God. You thirst, and you’re asking God to be your waiter. God is not your water. He is your waiter.

This seeking is not the seeking of a stranger. This is not the seeking of sinful man for God. Scripture declares, “no one seeks for God” (Romans 3:11). Man may seek religion and spirituality, but, Paul explains, such seeking is a way of running from God. We suppress the truth we know about God and create gods in our own image (Romans 1:15–23). Man does not seek after God, yet David does. He “earnestly” seeks after God. Why is it that David seeks? Why do any seek?

Before any say, “my God,” God says, “my people.” This simple language goes back to the Abrahamic covenant and God’s promise to be God to Abraham and his offspring. In faithfulness to this covenant, God declared to Israel through Moses, “I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great acts of judgment. I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God, and you shall know that I am the LORD your God” (Exodus 6:6–7). God initiates. “I will take you to be my people, and I will be your God, and you shall know that I am the LORD your God.” Before any seek God, God seeks them. “We love because he first loved us (1 John 4:9).” This is what Jesus meant when He said, “I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice” (John 10:16). The children of God seek because the Father has sought them.

God reveals Himself in Christ by the Spirit through the Word. God shines in their “hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). That seeing gives us a new nature with a new appetite. It creates a soul that having tasted that the Lord is good, thirsts and hungers for Him.

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it” (Matthew 13:44–46).

That kind of seeking is the result of having been sought and found. The seeking of this psalm assumes all of this. The seeking of this psalm is not one for discovery, but from delight. Yet, it is a desperate seeking. This is the kind of thirst that results from having tasted and thus having been ruined for anything else.

A Silence that Sings (Psalm 62)

Psalm 62:1–2 (ESV)

For God alone my soul waits in silence; 
  from him comes my salvation. 
He alone is my rock and my salvation, 
  my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

—Psalm 62:1–2

The 62nd Psalm opens with a mighty declaration of confidence that sets the tone with which we sing the rest of the psalm. It is a tone of faith and trust.

“For God alone my soul waits in silence…”. What does it mean to wait in silence? The first thing to notice about this silence is that it is very loud. This is no quiet, contemplative silence, waiting for an answer. This is the silence that results from having the answer, and it is loud. This song is an expression of this silence. This silence sings.

This silence shushes neither loud singing nor ardent prayer. Pouring “out your heart before” God does not take us away from but towards this this silence.

This silence is a stillness of soul; it is a trustful rest in God. “For God alone my soul waits in silence.” You can see how silence and stillness are parallel in Psalm 83:1. “O God, do not keep silence; do not hold your peace or be still, O God!” Understanding that silence means stillness, we can find further illumination in texts like Psalm 37:7. “Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices!” This stillness of soul means not fretting over the wicked.

A familiar passage, often misunderstood, is then not only clarified by this, but now serves to clarify. “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” (Psalm 46:10). This stillness of soul is not loud with doubt, fear, or murmuring. It is loud with faith, trust, and rest. It is loud with confidence. This silence of soul is an expression of trust—trust in God alone. Trust in God that our salvation comes from Him.

It is a stillness that understands our part is to trust and obey. God’s part is to save and deliver. When it comes to the saving, this stillness of soul realizes two things: 1. I can’t make His salvation happen. 2. They can’t stop His salvation from happening.

This is the kind of trust that takes a deep breath, and then sings, “For God alone my soul waits in silence from him comes my salvation.”

Praying for Your Prayers (Psalm 61)

David prays for his prayers. “Hear my cry…listen to my prayer.” David prays for his prayers! The 61st Psalm opens with a prayer that his prayer be heard. David is serious about praying. He is earnest in prayer. He does not just pray to pray. He prays to be answered. He prays prayers that must be answered. Prayer is not sky journaling, therapeutically pouring out your soul to the silent but caring counselor in the heavens. Prayer, specifically petition, is not ultimately about you praying, but God answering.

Oh how little we really pray. How little we really pray is evidenced in this—we don’t look for an answer. I don’t pray enough. I don’t even pray enough lazy prayers. So few are truly earnest. Oh how little we pray even when we do pray. We look with more anticipation for the latest Amazon package to arrive than we do for answers to our prayers. William Plumer writes, “It is a sad mistake with some to offer prayers and then care no more of them. It is not the prayer but the answer to it that brings the blessing.”

Pray, “Deliver me from this temptation!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though your life depended on it.

Pray, “Save my children!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though their life depended on it.

Pray, “Revive your church!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though our hope depended on it.

Pray, “Advance your gospel!” and then look in earnest for the answer as though their hope, the hope of the nations depended on it.

Certainly our prayers should involve more than petition, but are your petitions so petty they are forgettable? Or do you pray prayers that God must answer! Certainly there are many petitions that we may not bring before God as demands. But as you grow to know God, as you cry out with greater insight and specificity “Hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:9–10)—as you do so, there should be an earnestness, a desperation for God to prove Himself to be the God He has promised to be.

“Hear my cry… listen to my prayer.” I’m afraid we don’t pray for our prayers, because we know that so often, our prayers aren’t really worth listening to.

Thou art coming to a King,
large petitions with thee bring,
for his grace and pow'r are such,
none can ever ask too much.

Perhaps we may begin by praying that we would pray prayers worth praying for?

The Prescription of Prophetic Liturgy (Micah 7:1–20)

Shepherd your people with your staff, 
     the flock of your inheritance, 
who dwell alone in a forest 
     in the midst of a garden land; 
let them graze in Bashan and Gilead 
     as in the days of old. 
As in the days when you came out of the land of Egypt, 
     I will show them marvelous things.

—Micah 7:14–15

The closing portion of Micah has been described as “prophetic liturgy.” Stephen Dempster applies that language to vv. 8–20, but I believe it appropriately describes the whole chapter. Micah 7 is “prophetic liturgy.” As such, this chapter is a profound gift. But with those two words, and combined even, you may not instantly recognize it as such. “Prophetic? Liturgy? No thank you.” Its like the grandparent telling the unknowing four year old that they’ve got him some puppy chow for a snack. He’s not intrigued.

“Prophetic liturgy,” what does that mean? For many evangelicals, “liturgy” is an alien word conjuring up images of stuffy, highly formalized worship services. At worst, it sounds Catholic, and at best, Presbyterian, with Anglican, falling somewhere in-between. But liturgy is not alien. Liturgy is inescapable. Liturgy is simply the shape our worship takes. Churches that say they have no liturgy only fool themselves. Their worship has a regular shape and routine. So the question isn’t whether or not to have a liturgy, but whether or not it is Biblical, thoughtful, intentional, purposeful, historical, and meaningful. The irony is how repetitive “non-liturgical” liturgies are. Human spontaneity defaults into the repetition of our finite minds. Whereas more liturgical services are more intentionally diverse—covering a wide sampling of Scripture and systematic theology. Where they are repetitive, they are repetitive by design with emphatic purpose.

As prophetic liturgy, this outline of worship is not only inspired, it is prescribed. It is a Divine “script” written for their future healing. There is a specific situation in the future in which Israel is to “take it” by mouth for their good.

Micah is made up of three cycles of judgment and salvation. This last promise of salvation is given to them as the proper response to both. The grace of God given to them here is a liturgy of proper response to both His judgment and salvation. How should they receive His judgment and believe His salvation? How should they worship? How should we respond in worship to the message of Yahweh’s salvation and judgment? Here is the gift then: Yahweh does not just speak of salvation and judgment—He gives us a liturgy to properly worship Him in them. His Word tells us how to receive and respond to His Word. This final proclamation of salvation shows us that God’s grace not only works outside of us to deliver us, it works inside us to transform us, so that our worship aligns with God’s heart.

A Full Court (Micah 6:1–16)

Hear what the LORD says: 

Arise, plead your case before the mountains, 
     and let the hills hear your voice. 

Hear, you mountains, the indictment of the LORD, 
     and you enduring foundations of the earth, 
for the LORD has an indictment against his people, 
     and he will contend with Israel.

— Micah 6:1–2

The great legal drama of Micah now begins to draw to a close. Three times we have heard a summons to judgment. This final summons is in a way the grandest and most poignant. Of the three times we are called before the heavenly Judge of all the earth, this is the fullest court description.

First we have the summons of the defendant, “Hear what the LORD says…”. The “hear” here is plural. The defendant is later identified as “his people.” Yahweh is calling his own people before him to be judged. Not just just their chief cities, nor just their corrupt rulers—but simply “his people”—all of them.

The first summons in Micah was a call to all the peoples of earth for judgment. It is a summons that hangs over the entirety of this book. “Hear, you peoples, all of you; pay attention, O earth, and all that is in it, and let the Lord GOD be a witness against you, the Lord from his holy temple” (Micah 1:2). If God calls His own people to court, will He not judge all all the peoples of the earth? Will He not judge you?

Next we have the command of the Judge for His covenant prosecutor to act. Whereas the “hear” is plural, the verbs “arise” and “plead” are singular. Micah is called on to act as God’s prosecutor, showing how Israel has violated covenant. This is the major role of the Old Testament prophet. The popular idea of the prophet is that of a future-teller. But we would do well to replace that with the idea of covenant-teller. While the prophets do foretell of God’s covenant faithfulness to redeem in the future, a substantial part of their ministry is acting as a covenant-prosecutor. When they speak of  judgment to come, as much as they are foretelling, they are pronouncing the very covenant curses God promised in His law. Curses we will clearly see in this chapter.

Next we see a summons to mountains and foundations of the earth (v. 2). They are not summoned as defendants, but as witnesses. The enduring mountains and foundations have been there since the first sin. This is the creation that groans and was subjected to futility because of man’s sin (Romans 8:20–22). This is the creation that cries out for the innocent blood that stains its soil (Genesis 4:10). Such witnesses testify to the majesty of this court. Who but the Lord of heaven and earth can call such witnesses?

Finally, the Plantiff/Judge is explicitly identified. These witnesses are called on to hear “the indictment of the LORD.” It is He who “will contend with Israel.” This is Yahweh’s indictment brought by Yahweh’s prophet before Yahweh’s creation, against Yahweh’s people. Do you see how certain their condemnation is? Do you see how certain our condemnation is? There is no hope of bribing the Judge, buying the prosecutor, or manipulating the witnesses. You are known by them all and they are His servants.

Hear all peoples, if Yahweh has so faithfully judged Israel, will He not judge all the earth? We have all of us broken covenant—the covenant of creation. We owe all to our Creator, and all His creation testifies of our sin against Him. Creation speaks of His glory and testifies of His wrath against the unrighteousness of man—thorns and poison ivy, earthquakes and tornadoes, wildfires and volcanoes, floods and hurricanes, drought and disease all testify to our sinfulness. 

Abraham found solace in asking, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?” (Genesis 18:25). But outside of Christ this is our greatest terror, for there is none righteous, no not one. We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. The Judge of all the earth will do what is right and we are not righteous.