Untitled Sermon

Covenant and King: Psalms 1–2

The Book of Psalms is a carefully crafted book with a deliberate structure. Each psalm connects to the next like pages in a novel. There’s a reason Psalm 91 follows Psalm 90 and not Psalm 23. The context of the book matters, because the arrangement is intentional and purposeful.

How can that be true when the psalms were written by numerous authors over roughly a thousand years, from Moses to the end of the exile? The answer lies in a two-stage process of divine inspiration. The Holy Spirit moved the human authors so that their writings are, in fact, the very work of God. Their words are God’s words. In the Psalter, that inspiration extends beyond the initial writing of each psalm to a later stage of redaction.

A redactor collects the psalms and meticulously arranges their order to make a point. Picture him as a curator of a grand exhibit, carefully selecting and positioning each piece so the whole display tells one cohesive message. Guided by the Holy Spirit, the final arrangement of the Psalter reflects God’s intended message.

That means a psalm has its own meaning, and it also has a meaning within the flow of the book. The canon of Scripture gives the Psalter to us as a book, and the book teaches us how to read the parts. So the goal is to understand a psalm and to understand that psalm in its greater context in the Psalter, and then to see the Psalter in the greater context of the canon of Scripture.

Poetry that rhymes with meaning

The Psalms are poetry. Bible publishers often clue us in through typesetting: left-justified lines, extra margins, the visual cues we associate with printed poetry. Hebrew poetry works differently than English poetry. It leans on parallel lines and layered meaning.

Hebrew poetry “rhymes” using meaning. It says one thing, then says it again in a different way. “Kings, be wise; receive instruction, you judges of the earth.” Kings are the judges of the earth. Wisdom shows up as receiving instruction. That is the same idea presented from a second angle.

This way of communicating extends beyond poetry into Hebrew literature more broadly. My friend and Old Testament scholar Peter Gentry describes it like stereo speakers giving you a composite image, like Dolby surround sound, even like a hologram you can walk around and see from all sides. Hebrew literature goes around a topic, then comes at it again from another direction, and the result is three-dimensional truth.

That is what poetry is about in any culture: potency with language, saying more than the sum of the parts.

“Praises” that make room for lament

The word “Psalm” comes from the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. The Greek title of the book is a straightforward translation of the Hebrew title: Tehillim, “praises,” from the plural form of halal. “Hallelujah” is built from the same root: “halalu” means “praise,” and “yah” is Yahweh. “Hallelujah” means “praise Yahweh.”

So the Psalter is primarily a book of praises. Anyone who has read many of the psalms knows the book contains a lot of lament and a lot of uncertain questions directed toward God. The Psalms give expression for the entire range of human emotion, and all of it sits under the heading of “praises.”

That teaches something vital. Freedom to express hard and uncertain things grows out of a bedrock commitment to the praiseworthiness of God. Praise needs to be bigger and more mature than we often make it. I am not talking about the “cold and broken hallelujah” of Leonard Cohen. He didn’t get it. I am talking about the “hallelujah” of Jesus on the cross, quoting Psalm 22: “my God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” That cry carries a bedrock commitment to the praiseworthiness of God in the most averse circumstances. The Psalter trains us for that kind of praise.

The gateway to the Psalter: Covenant and King

Psalms 1 and 2 function as an introduction and overview. They set the stage for the entire book by narrowing our focus onto two key themes: God’s covenant and God’s King. Another way to say the same thing is a saving relationship through Jesus Christ. Covenant and King. These two psalms have been called the gateway to the Psalter. Walk through that gateway, and the rest of the book comes into focus.

The whole Psalter can be summed up like this: Through his Messiah, Yahweh fulfills His covenant promises, revealing the depths of his praiseworthiness.

Psalm 1 begins with “Happy!” and Psalm 2 ends with “Happy!” Those are bookends. The redactor frames the Psalter with the question of happiness, blessing, flourishing.

“Happy” can also be translated “blessed.” It points to a state of being marked by health and prosperity and right relationship with one another and with God. These are the things we associate with God’s covenant promises. In Psalm 1, that happiness is tied to a what. In Psalm 2, it is tied to a who. These belong together. God’s covenant sets forth his promises, and God’s King executes them.

Psalm 1: The covenant path to blessing

Psalm 1 opens by describing the happy one:

1 How happy is the one who does not walk in the advice of the wicked or stand in the pathway with sinners or sit in the company of mockers!

Walk, stand, sit. Many sermons have tried to turn those into a neat progression. Hebrew writers communicate by giving the same idea from multiple angles. This is three different ways of saying the same thing, giving a whole picture of someone keeping poor company. He wants to spend time with them and learn from them. He orders his life so he can be where they are. He looks up to them. They are his source, and he is eating it up.

The tragedy is that they have no source themselves. Later the psalm says:

4 The wicked are not like this; instead, they are like chaff that the wind blows away.

Chaff has no roots. It cannot draw life. Everything the wicked feed you is dead wrong, because they are dead wrong at the root.

So where does the happy one find his source?

2 Instead, his delight is in Yahweh’s instruction, and he meditates on it day and night.

And the psalm paints the result:

3 He is like a tree planted beside flowing streams that bears its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.

He has deep roots supplied by a flowing stream. Scripture often uses water as an image of judgment, chaos, or danger when it speaks of vast, uncontrollable waters. Here the picture is a life-giving stream, living waters. The stream is Yahweh’s instruction (torah). The tree is planted there, plugged into its source, meditating day and night rather than drifting off to lesser things.

There is reason to believe the one who delights in Yahweh’s instruction is the Davidic king. Kings are often portrayed as trees because trees are tall, strong, and stately.

Prosperity, without the magic formula

“Whatever he does prospers.” That line raises questions. Christians rightly reject the prosperity gospel, and yet Psalm 1 speaks openly about health and prosperity. Health and prosperity are good things. The trouble comes when the prosperity gospel turns the gospel into a magic formula. In magic, you perform a ritual to manipulate the deity into giving what you want. The real delight becomes material wealth, health, the American dream. The Bible’s order is different: delight rests in Yahweh’s instruction, and prosperity follows as a result.

Jesus helps us read this psalm. He was sinless. When accusations flew that he ate with sinners and tax collectors, the irony was thick, because those accusing him were no better. As a boy, when his parents found him after he went missing, he was in the temple, confounding the leaders with insight into God’s word. He delighted in Yahweh’s instruction and meditated on it day and night.

The psalm also warns of judgment:

5 Therefore the wicked will not stand up in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous. 6 For Yahweh watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked leads to ruin.

The assembly of the righteous is God’s kingdom, those who take hold of God’s covenant promises by faith, and God credits their faith as righteousness. Yahweh watches over the way of the righteous. He protects. He preserves. He raises from the dead if that is what it takes.

Yahweh and torah: covenant language in Psalm 1

Psalm 1:2 uses two loaded words: Yahweh’s instruction. Yahweh is God’s covenant name. Exodus 6:2–8 makes the connection explicit, and Numbers 6:22–27 carries the same covenant weight. If you belong to God’s covenant, you wear the name Yahweh like a brand. Hearing that name calls the covenant to mind.

Then there is the word “instruction,” torah. Many translations render it “law,” yet torah carries the sense of direction, teaching, covenantal instruction. The first five books of the Bible are called the Torah, and the Torah tells the reader how to live in right relationship with God and with others.

The Psalter is arranged in five books, likely mirroring the Torah. Psalm 1 points straight to meditation on Yahweh’s torah, covenantal instruction either way you take it.

Someone might object, “The word covenant never appears in Psalm 1.” Words carry meaning by activating knowledge. Say “Deflategate,” and even a decade later you know scandal is in view. In the same way, if you have read the Bible and you see “Yahweh’s instruction,” covenant comes into view. Peter Gentry says “tôrâ and covenant are two sides of the same coin in the same way that faith and repentance are two sides of the same coin in the New Testament.”

So what is a covenant? A covenant forms a binding union that makes its parties closer than blood-related. In the marriage covenant, the two become one flesh.

Psalm 2: The King who secures the covenant blessing

Psalm 2 ties happiness to a person.

1 Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? 2 The kings of the earth take their stand, and the rulers conspire together against Yahweh and his Anointed One:, 3 “Let’s tear off their chains and throw their ropes off of us.”

“Anointed One” is Messiah, Christ, the one anointed to be King in God’s kingdom. The nations, the peoples, the kings, the rulers belong together. In a monarchy, the king embodies the people. Charles is England. These kings act on behalf of their peoples.

The kings of the earth refuse submission to God’s King. They want control. They want to be their own source.

That hunger for self-sufficiency reminds me of a perpetual motion machine, a hypothetical device that runs forever without external energy, producing more than it consumes. It cannot exist. It violates the limits God has set upon creation. Energy cannot be created or destroyed; only God creates. Yet rebellious kings crave self-sufficiency. They want to tear off restraints, transcend boundaries, and become their own creator.

God’s response is untroubled:

4 The one enthroned in heaven laughs; the Lord ridicules them. 5 Then he speaks to them in his anger and terrifies them in his wrath:

And then the decisive word:

6 “I have installed my king on Zion, my holy mountain.”

There is a King above all kings. That is good news or dreadful news depending on where you stand with God, because the psalm presents this King as an instrument of God’s wrath.

The King as Son, the Davidic covenant, and the world to come

The King speaks:

7 I will declare Yahweh’s decree. He said to me, “You are my Son; today I have become your Father.

That language echoes the Davidic covenant: “I will be a father to him and he will be a son to Me” (2 Samuel 7:14). When the redactor placed this psalm at the beginning of the Psalter, there was no Davidic king in Israel. The psalm looks back to David and looks forward to a future better David.

Many psalms are attributed to King David. When you put those words in your mouth, it is appropriate to imagine them in the mouth of Jesus, the future better David. Psalm 2 trains your ear to hear him.

The promise expands outward:

8 Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance and the ends of the earth your possession. 9 You will break them with an iron scepter; you will shatter them like pottery.”

Genesis 49:10 resonates here:

The scepter will not depart from Judah or the staff from between his feet until he whose right it is comes, and the obedience of the peoples belongs to him.

David is from Judah. Jesus is from Judah. Yet the obedience of the peoples, the subjection of the nations, never truly belonged to David, Solomon, Hezekiah, or Josiah. It belongs to the Lord Jesus Christ.

Reverential awe and joy that can tremble

Psalm 2 turns and speaks to the kings:

10 So now, kings, be wise; receive instruction, you judges of the earth. 11 Serve Yahweh with reverential awe and rejoice with trembling.

Everyone wants to know where they fit, where they stand. People assert themselves because they do not realize their place. Others panic. Fear drives fight or flight. The question underneath is simple: where do I belong, where can I breathe deeply and rest? The psalm answers with service to the Lord, with reverential awe.

“Rejoice with trembling” sounds like two things that shouldn’t go together. Yet when you fear man, panic takes over. You rage. You plot in vain. You grab for control and try to throw off the ropes. When you fear God, a healthy reverence fills you. You recognize his sovereignty, his power, his perfect wisdom. This fear becomes the foundation for genuine joy. Trembling remains, and rejoicing rises alongside it. The Psalms guide us into that mature understanding of praise.

“Pay homage to the Son”: ben, bar, and the Son of Man

The warning lands plainly:

12 Pay homage to the Son or he will be angry and you will perish in your rebellion, for his anger may ignite at any moment.

The word for “son” in verse 7 is the Hebrew word “ben.” The word used in verse 12, “pay homage to the Son,” is “bar.” “Bar” is Aramaic, and it is rare in the Hebrew Scriptures compared to “ben.” Poetry is potent with language. Every word matters, and here the psalm uses a word that catches your attention.

Daniel 7:13–14 uses that same Aramaic “bar” when it speaks of the Son of Man. The nations serve him. Psalm 2 tells the nations to pay homage to him. Daniel and Psalms live close together in the Hebrew order. They belong to the same collected volume, and they resonate with each other. Psalm 2 looks back to David and looks forward to King Jesus. The gateway psalms train your ear to hear Jesus Christ across the whole Psalter.

The King of Psalm 2 is the righteous one of Psalm 1

Psalm 1 ties blessing to meditating on Yahweh’s instruction, covenantal instruction. Psalm 2 ties blessing to taking refuge in a person: God’s anointed King. The King in Psalm 2 is the covenant-keeper of Psalm 1. He embodies the righteousness described in Psalm 1. He is the one meditating on God’s instruction, deeply connected to the source.

That connection matters, because refuge in this King means refuge in someone who is tied to God’s wisdom and righteousness. United to him, you are connected to the source of life and flourishing.

Deuteronomy 17:18–19 shows why the psalm can present the king this way. A king in Israel is to have a copy of Yahweh’s instruction and read it all the days of his life. Meditating on Torah belongs to the job description of the king.

So what does it mean to take refuge in him? To take refuge in God’s King means that King protects you. And who protects him? “Yahweh watches over the way of the righteous.” God tends the way of his King. Refuge in the King rests on the Father’s watchful care.

Thomas Watson puts it bluntly: “Such as will not have Christ to be their King to rule over them shall never have his blood to save them.”

That line presses on the gospel logic. If Yahweh watches over the way of the righteous, that can sound like bad news, because I have no righteousness of my own to speak of. Yahweh’s anointed King is the righteous one, and refuge means hiding inside his righteousness.

You have no righteousness of your own. Paul says our righteousness isn’t worth much. It’s like a used sanitary pad. Throw it away. We need the righteousness of Jesus. We need his obedience. We need his delight in Yahweh’s instruction. We need his delight in God.

Oh, to be delighted with God. Delight in God sits at the root of worship. Delight grows as we know his worth. The kings of the earth, the wicked, worry about their worth. They try to establish their worth. They want to be worshiped. We want to be worshiped. Everyone reaches for the same question: Where do I stand? What am I worth? When you feel like you must establish that worth yourself, fear takes over and the soul starts running on fight-or-flight. Trembling remains, and rejoicing disappears.

Refuge in Jesus changes the center of gravity. If my worth is established because I am taking refuge in Jesus, and his worth is my worth, panic loosens its grip. Fear of man gives way to fear of God, and you can tremble and rejoice. You find your place: serve the Lord, worship, delight in God and in his instruction. What is true about Jesus is and will be true about me. That is the heart of the gospel.

Through his Messiah, Yahweh fulfills His covenant promises, revealing the depths of his praiseworthiness. Through Jesus, God saves us for a purpose: right relationship with him and with others, justice and righteousness, worship and obedience.

The Psalter opens by naming the happy one, and it opens by naming the refuge. Psalm 1 and Psalm 2 place covenant and King at the front door of the Psalter so you learn, from the first step, where blessing grows. It grows by the stream of Yahweh’s instruction, and it grows inside the shelter of Yahweh’s Son.