Introduction
The Intellectual Background of This Commentary
Psalm 51:17
אֲדֹנָי שְׂפָתַי תִּפְתָּח וּפִי יַגִּיד תְּהִלָּתֶךָ׃
17O Lord, open my lips, and let my mouth declare Your praise.
It is with great trepidation that I offer the following two-volume commentary on the book of Psalms, what many consider to be some of the most inspired literature set to parchment. Humbled by the majesty and depth of biblical poetry and prose, I am profoundly aware of my own shortcomings as a writer, and fear that I have failed to adequately display more than a few facets of the shimmering diamond that is the Miqra.[1] Nevertheless, I feel compelled to share the fruits of my investigations, as part of the legacy of my two mentors: Rabbi Solomon David Sassoon, and Rabbi Moshe Shamah. I pray that my work, building on their insights and methodology, will do some justice to the words of the prophets.
As a young rabbinical student, no older than twenty-three, I had the great merit of being introduced by my cousin, Rabbi Moshe Shamah, to one of the Torah world’s great luminaries — Rabbi Solomon David Sassoon— who enriched my life and study immeasurably from that day forward. In the decades since, I have devoted my research to applying his insights to the book of Psalms and to the rest of the Miqra. The result is the work before you. While Rabbi Sassoon’s teachings inspired and profoundly impacted this study, the thoughts developed here are my own and should not be understood as speaking for him. In many ways, I feel that I have only touched the surface of his thought; any shortcomings are, of course, my own.
A foundational principle of Rabbi Sassoon’s Bible study methodology is that the Miqra is its own first and best commentary. (Rabbi Sassoon’s definition of “commentary” includes expansion, elaboration, emphasis and sharpening of ideas in one text through the interpretive lens of another.) As a result, this book, like Rabbi Shamah’s Recalling the Covenant,[2] is replete with examples of intertextuality — biblical words, phrases, images, and ideas from different parts of the Miqra that invoke and therefore draw meaning from one another.[3] Rabbi Shamah and I were blessed with the opportunity to watch Rabbi Sassoon’s methodology develop and bear interpretive fruit over the decades, studying at first with the man himself, and then continuing to apply our teacher’s approach after his passing. I observed how Rabbi Sassoon’s methodology and conclusions evolved, as he refined his ideas over twenty years of teaching and analyzing biblical texts with us, into the paradigm-shifting methodology eventually employed by Rabbi Shamah in Recalling the Covenant. The effect of reading Psalms not only as poetry in its own right, but also as an integral part of the complex interwoven fabric of Miqra and as commentary on other texts Rabbi Sassoon referred to collectively as “prophetic literature,”[4] is to provide a three-dimensional biblical perspective by studying multiple intertexts side by side.
Rabbi Sassoon also taught that prophetic writing, including the book of Psalms, employs intricate literary structures and unique literary techniques. This book will introduce readers to many such structures and techniques. These may be simple, such as the use of theme words at high concentration within a passage, or more complex, such as the building of a psalm’s poetic structure to mirror some other, related biblical passage.[5] Thanks to Rabbi Sassoon’s influence, I have been blessed to experience the overwhelming complexity and depth of composition in biblical writing, even as each day of study has reminded me that we have surely only scratched the surface.
While some literary techniques may be easily observed or heard with a careful reading or recitation of the text, others are far subtler and emerge only with more intensive analysis. For example, a psalm may employ simple alliteration or explicit references to biblical narratives, features which have not eluded the attention of careful commentators. However, what we refer to as “prophetic literature” also exhibits many features hitherto unrecognized (or recognized in only the most superficial sense), which this book will seek to introduce to inquisitive readers. Some of these are built upon precise literary structures, where details like verse length, the precise number of times a theme word is repeated, or the number of words between such repetitions, become essential elements of the analysis.
One of Rabbi Sassoon’s crucial insights relates to the centrality of the covenant between God and Israel in biblical literature. As the promise of an unfathomable Creator to maintain an ongoing relationship with humanity, as the oath that binds Israel to God and the morality He commands, and as the symbol of eternal hope for everyone, from the eight sole survivors of the Flood to the remnant of Judah in the face of the Babylonian onslaught, the covenant is the constant that binds us through history. It is the lifeblood of the nation of Israel. Among other reminders of the covenant in the biblical text, Rabbi Sassoon drew our attention to the use of number symbolism — specifically, organized around the numbers eight and thirteen — as a ubiquitous feature of the Torah, Nevi’im and Ketuvim.[6] (Needless to say, covenantal number symbolism is a literary technique, and not to be confused or associated with “Bible Codes,” numerology, arithmancy or other approaches claiming to predict the future based on the biblical text.) This is another feature which, even after millennia of study of the Bible, has yet to gain recognition from any significant audience of biblical scholars.
In the early 1980s, I developed a few computer programs to aid in the discovery and visual presentation of some of the literary features described above. My software (“CompuCord”), which was recognized in the journal Hebrew Studies for its then-revolutionary advances and potential as a study tool,[7] enabled me to perform a variety of new types of analysis. For instance, it allowed textual comparisons, cluster analyses examining the concentration of terms, searches of distinct words, roots, verb forms, or strings in any biblical book or other range of biblical text, construction of dictionaries for any biblical book or other range of biblical text, statistical analysis of the frequency of any or all forms of a word, and easy ascertainment of the precise center points of biblical passages. This has proven invaluable to my research.
The intricately interwoven character of the biblical text and the astonishing sophistication and precision of some of its structural features have, over time, vindicated an extremely conservative approach in my studies to the integrity of the Masoretic Text. Indeed, time and again, this book will reveal how reckless emendations ruin pristine poetic structures. Faith in generations of scribal care enables more fruitful analysis of the text than a philological free-for-all, the latter often reflecting scholars’ incomplete perspectives on the passages in question.[8] I hope that my scholarly audience will evaluate the strength of my analyses on their own literary merits, even when this requires entertaining possibilities that conflict with common assumptions about the extent of the Bible’s textual corruption and editorial haphazardness.
Perhaps Rabbi Sassoon’s most revolutionary insight into the book of Psalms was his conclusion that it was produced by the prophet Jeremiah, with most if not all of its psalms written or edited by his hand.[9] The literary analyses included in the present study indeed substantiate a deep connection to Jeremiah’s life and writings throughout the book of Psalms and lend weight to the hypothesis of Jeremiah’s authorship of Psalms as a whole. While some readers may find this claim to be surprising, time and again this study will show this to be the best explanation of the data, and one which bears much fruit in revealing subtext and context, while adding depth to other biblical narratives explicitly associated with Jeremiah. My hope is that readers will follow my arguments patiently and judge this thesis on its own merits, allowing the evidence presented in these two volumes to speak for itself. It is worth bearing in mind that quite apart from questions of authorship, Rabbi Sassoon’s recognition of any unified editorial logic to the book of Psalms provided a major impetus for this study. Though individual psalms are, of course, meaningful on a cellular level as self-contained prayers, laments, odes and so on, recognizing a rationale for their sequence and organization opens new worlds of inquiry and understanding.[10] The analysis presented in this study will demonstrate a unified and profound editorial logic that represents a substantial step forward in Psalms scholarship in its own right, regardless of one’s view of the issue of authorship.[11]
During the course of my study, I have availed myself of relevant scholarly work produced by the academic study of the Bible. This secondary literature has often proven invaluable to me in understanding biblical literature, its wider Near Eastern context, relevant Semitic philology, and the problems which have confounded commentators over the centuries. Yet very rarely did I encounter scholarship asking the most interesting questions Rabbi Sassoon raised, much less answering them satisfactorily. Widespread assumptions of the academy — for instance, that Psalms is a collection of disjointed poetry from vastly different Hebrew cultures at different points in space and time, or that the Masoretic Text is riddled with scribal errors — often preclude a full engagement with the text before us as a single body of literature with consistency of ideas, values, and literary technique spanning its entire range. For the most typical example, where a reader unmoored from modern scholarly assumptions encounters a difficulty — an apparent contradiction within a narrative, poem, or legal instruction in need of resolution — many academics may simply posit multiple authorial and editorial hands and a redactor unconcerned with successful harmonization. The first reader will ask questions on the basis of their understanding of the text as a unified and meaningful whole, and may, perhaps, arrive at interesting conclusions about what message the received text, in its totality, now conveys. Academics, on the other hand, will generally seek to address the very same textual difficulties within the framework of the assumption that the biblical text is imperfect and multi-layered.
By engaging with the book of Psalms as a unity and eschewing approaches which presume the corruption of the text, I admittedly place this work outside the current academic mainstream. Furthermore, I do not rule out possibilities which may seem “too advanced” for an ancient civilization if they appear compelling as explanations of textual features unlikely to be merely coincidental. Although I am not myself a part of biblical academia, my work presented in these studies has relevance to scholars and non-scholars alike. All I ask is that my readers, be they members of the academy, the clergy, or the educated laity, judge my conclusions based not on harmony with prior assumptions, but upon convincing literary analysis. Regardless of motive or prior assumptions, anyone in pursuit of knowledge about the Hebrew Bible can benefit from exposure to literary techniques hitherto unexplored, inner-biblical allusions and intertextuality unknown, and novel interpretations of the psalms and their historical contexts.
Premise of this Commentary
As the title implies, this commentary encompasses more than the individual psalms it analyzes; it is a commentary on the Miqra generally, with the book of Psalms providing an interpretive lens into the life and mission of the prophet Jeremiah, his understanding of Torah, his experience with and response to the destruction and exile, and his most profound prayers, feelings, fears and hopes. More generally, it is an exposition of how reading Psalms in conjunction with the Torah and Prophets passages they invoke provides a textured perspective to those who study the Miqra as a totality.
The innovative premise of this work is that there is, indeed, an overall message of Psalms: that the dysfunctional state of affairs that brought about the destruction of Jerusalem, and ultimately the exile, had to be exposed and corrected. In the final decades of the First Commonwealth, Judah’s monarchy and priesthood (as well as its unofficial leadership both political and spiritual) were rife with corruption. Jeremiah composed Psalms to provide an insider’s perspective, spoken through the persona of the psalmist, on the moral (and ultimately, physical) downfall of his people, and to proffer means of responding to the corruption and calamity to rebuild and enable a hopeful, even joyous future under the auspices of the covenant between God and Israel.
Furthermore, by dividing Psalms into five books organized parallel to the Five Books of the Torah, Jeremiah provides deeper insight into the narratives and legislation contained therein. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41), while shedding light on numerous narratives of Genesis, such as creation, the flood, and the destruction of Sodom, also provides the personal perspective of the psalmist, just as Genesis does for the Patriarchs. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72) focuses on the moral failings of the monarchy and other political authorities, drawing an intentional contrast with the introduction of prophetic national leadership in Exodus, while Book 3 (Pss. 73–89) exposes those of the priesthood, in parallel to Leviticus which outlines the duties of that institution. After the dark ending of Book 3 (which itself parallels the curses at the close of Leviticus [Lev. 26:14–46][12]), Book 4 (Pss. 90–106) deals with moving forward from tragedy, just as Numbers tells of the Israelites moving forward in a physical sense. Finally, Book 5 (Pss. 107–150) revisits numerous topics from Books 1–4, as Deuteronomy does to the first four books of the Torah. It also expresses the potential for a new commitment to the covenant to restore justice and hope, just as in Deuteronomy Israel’s renewal of the covenant while on the threshold of the promised land was meant to set the tone for the society they would build therein.
Jeremiah’s life story is that of a prophet charged with a mission from God to shatter a decadent system, and “build and plant”[13] the seeds for the new order. Like Moses, he shows reluctance and humility in his charge,[14] but throughout his life obeys God’s command as a faithful servant. Needless to say, such an ambitious mission against the powers-that-be earned Jeremiah numerous and powerful enemies who wanted him dead or otherwise removed from a position of influence. The book of Jeremiah recounts how the prophet met these challenges and persistently pursued his divine mission despite tremendous opposition, personal adversity, theological doubt, societal derision, and outright violence.
The book of Psalms provides a deeper glimpse into the mind and heart of this brave spiritual giant as he navigated his people through a devastating national catastrophe — the destruction of Jerusalem and exile of its people. Jeremiah received an expanded covenant from God,[15] adding necessary correctives to the instruction which had been corrupted by the avarice of the power wielders — kings, prophets, priests, and their followers. Psalms gives us the personal prayers of the prophet divinely charged with destroying and shattering, then, building and planting. Jeremiah’s building and planting took the form not only of oral addresses to his contemporaries but also of authoring foundational texts to realign the values and ethics of Hebrew society with God’s eternal covenant.[16] His role did not end with the final exile of Judah’s remnant to Egypt;[17] rather, his prophetic activities continued there, and that is where the lifelong process of “building and planting” came to fruition.
The problems that Jeremiah faced are endemic to human society in all periods. The powerful and corrupt never cede power easily. The moral leader who opposes them, even if tasked with his mission by God, will certainly face strong opposition. In revealing his personal reactions to the difficulties he faced, Jeremiah provides inspiration and spiritual mettle to all who would take on the critically important task of improving society and its leadership. Having Jeremiah to model ourselves after — as he had the Patriarchs, Moses, Elijah, Elisha and others —we are inspired to carry on this ever-important and ongoing task. The challenge of all generations is tearing down the rotten, weeding out the corrupt and then building stable spiritual constructs on solid foundations, planting hardy seeds in fertile soil. May the study of Psalms, along with all of Scripture inspire courageous people to create a just society. May all who see themselves as Abraham’s descendants (whether physical or spiritual) merit to continue in his way of “instruct[ing] his children and his posterity to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is just and right” (Gen. 18:19).
Plan of this Commentary
Tnecnd learning intensively from him. his two-volume commentary will explicate the psalms roughly in order of their appearance in the Masoretic Text, explaining specific psalms at length and providing overviews of some of the intervening psalms. The first volume will mainly cover psalms from Book 1 (Pss. 1–41). It begins in chapter 1 with an analysis of Psalms 1–2, which introduce Psalms and the persona of the psalmist, and establish especially strong connections with the book of Jeremiah pointing to this prophet’s authorship of Psalms. This is followed by an overview of Psalms 3–7, with Psalms 3–4 introducing the major theme of Book 1— the psalmist’s personal struggle with numerous enemies, and Psalms 5–7 dealing with specific examples thereof from the life of Jeremiah. In addition, more comprehensive consideration of a number of key issues touching on the elucidation of Psalms 1–2 and other psalms treated in this study, such as number symbolism, and the use and meaning of the term אַשְׁרֵי in Psalms, appears in four different excursuses at the end of this chapter. The first excursus, “Number Symbolism in the Tanakh from the Work of Rabbi Solomon D. Sassoon,” is especially important as it clarifies at length a ubiquitous analytical framework for this entire two-volume study, the use of covenantal number symbolism in Psalms and prophetic literature more generally.
Chapter 2 then turns to a full treatment of Psalm 8, which offers a grand expression of the covenant, providing promise for the future after the despair communicated in Psalms 3–7. Throughout, we emphasize how the introductory psalms form a sequential narrative both in their references to the book of Jeremiah and in their invocations of Genesis: where the Torah introduces us to God, the Creator, His covenant with the Patriarchs, and their travails and successes in His service. A pair of excursuses round out the chapter. The first, on “The Literary Structure of Genesis 15,” elaborates upon some of the structural features and covenantal symbolism of the Covenant of the Parts, a text with an especially close intertextual relationship with Psalm 8. The second expounds upon the emphasis of praising the glory of “the name” of God in Psalm 8 in light of the phenomenon of “calling out in the name of the Lord,” which occurs in the narratives relating to three figures in Genesis: Enosh, Abram, and Isaac.
Next, in chapter 3, we begin to address the first of the four acrostics of Book 1, Psalms 9 and 10, which together comprise Psalms’ first alphabetic acrostic. The four Book 1 acrostics (9–10, 25, 34, and 37) each feature glaring omissions in the alphabetic sequence (in addition to other anomalies). Scholars generally attribute these omissions to scribal transmission errors, attempting to resolve them by “recovering the original text” through textual emendation. We maintain that these disruptions are an original feature of these psalms, purposefully placed as an additional channel to convey meaning. This and subsequent discussion of the Book 1 acrostics in chapters 7 and 8 reflect updated findings building upon my 2006 publication, “Evil and the Disruption of Order: An Analysis of the Acrostics in the First Book of Psalms.”[18] I published this earlier article first among my commentaries in order to provide a basic exposition of number symbolism and precise structural analysis of Psalms to an academic audience. I emphasized then, as now, that number symbolism and structural analysis are entirely dependent on literary content for their meaning and are never simply a game of mathematical manipulation.
Psalms 11–15 represent an important sequence that compares Jeremiah’s Jerusalem with ancient societies that God destroyed, namely Sodom and Gomorrah and the generation of the Flood. After an overview of Psalms 11–14, chapter 4 turns to a detailed examination of the intentionally “repeated” psalms, Psalms 14 and 53, which are compared and contrasted along with their contexts, such that the purpose of their differences (and of the repetition itself) becomes apparent. Also considered at length in this chapter is Psalm 15, which ends the sequence with a highly structured list of moral behaviors and a veiled critique of the Temple authorities, a critique which is touched upon in Psalm 16, the first mikhtam psalm, as well. An excursus to this chapter, “The Decalogue and the Essence of Holiness” provides background to the references to the Ten Commandments in Psalm 15, broadening the focus beyond the book of Psalms, focusing in particular on the expansion of the Decalogue in the Holiness Code of Leviticus 17–26.
Chapter 5 focuses on Psalm 19, a notable example of a psalm that illustrates important methodologies in a particularly accessible manner. It is a representative demonstration of the phenomenon of inner-biblical commentary such that the psalm is both better understood through and aids in the understanding of the beginning chapters of Genesis. Likewise, it is a superb example of how poetic structure directly informs content, and contains extraordinarily precise use of “psalm centers” as a multidimensional interpretive key,[19] number symbolism embedded in the composition of the text, and other pedagogically valuable instances of little-known literary techniques. Likewise, we observe how its juxtaposition to 18 is an instructive instance of how psalms build on previous content and benefit from sequential reading. Indeed, in an earlier manuscript we elected to begin the commentary with Psalm 19 rather than Psalm 1, finding it to provide a highly accessible window into many literary features to be examined throughout this commentary. Thanks to this accessibility, readers may yet find Psalm 19 an appropriate place to begin reading.[20] This chapter is rounded off by an excursus considering in more detail the function of “psalm centers,” the use of centrally placed words and phrases to emphasize or otherwise draw attention to ideas, in the book of Psalms.
Next, in chapter 6, we discuss the use of superscriptions as keys to psalm interpretation through a commentary on Psalm 22, in which the superscription alludes to an intertextually linked narrative in the book of Jeremiah. As we elaborate there, superscriptions serve an array of functions, including introduction of a psalm’s subject matter, association of a psalm with other biblical narratives, and linkage of psalms that are widely separated in the text, but that have relevant content connecting one to another. Powerful examples include the Asaph (Pss. 50, 73–83) and Sons of Qoraḥ (Pss. 42–49, 84–85, and 87–88) psalms, which form literary units focused on the priesthood and monarchy, respectively, and which we analyze at length in the second volume of this commentary.
We conclude the first volume of this study with two chapters devoted to the literary analysis of the three remaining Book 1 alphabetic acrostics, Psalms 25 and 34 (chapter 7), and Psalm 37 (chapter 8). Thematic development and progression throughout the acrostics is charted, along with explication of the psalmist’s fundamental message concerning evil, theodicy, proper faith in God, the ultimate defeat of the wicked, and the vindication of the righteous. A concluding statement summarizing the “story” conveyed by Jeremiah not only in the Book 1 acrostics but also in all of the intervening psalms, provides fresh insights into the structure, coherence, and meaning of the Book 1 collection as a whole and provides a foundation for the analysis of the psalms of Book 2 and 3 presented in volume 2. The first volume concludes with two further excursuses illustrating some of the significant ramifications of the method of analysis of the Book 1 acrostics undertaken here. The first offers a structural analysis of the acrostics in Lamentations, and the second a brief comparison of the acrostic psalms of Book 1 with those of Book 5.
The second volume will address a substantial portion of the Sons of Qoraḥ and Asaph psalms. These make up the bulk of Books 2 and 3, opening both[21] and closing the latter.[22] Psalms 42–50 and 73–77, the opening sequences of Books 2 and 3 respectively, receive detailed treatment, with occasional reference made to relevant features of the remaining Asaph and Qoraḥ psalms. As we show in our analysis of these psalms, they are organized by their shared content, which is alluded to by their superscriptions. The Sons of Qoraḥ and Asaph psalms focus on the failed leadership of the political and religious establishments, respectively, particularly the decadent monarchy and priesthood. Other Book 2 and Book 3 psalms share similar content, often drawing from the narratives of King David[23] to shed light on corruption in the national leadership. These psalms portray the wayward leadership as a significant cause of the exile, while contrasting their failures with the glorious past and hoped-for future under divine guidance. We argue that the psalmist’s placement of his critique of the priesthood in Book 3, which parallels Leviticus, is by design. Similarly, Book 2’s focus on the monarchy and other political authorities and functionaries draws an intentional contrast with the introduction of prophetic national leadership in Exodus.
On that note, let us join the psalmist in proclaiming, “happy is the man” (אַשְׁרֵי הָאָישׁ) who occupies his thoughts with God’s Torah (Ps. 1:1–2). I pray that this work begins to impress upon its readers the magnificence of prophetic writing, helping to fulfill the psalmist’s ultimate vision: to unite “every living thing with breath” (Ps. 150:6) in celebratory praise of God.
כֹּל הַנְּשָׁמָה תְּהַלֵּל יָהּ הַלְלוּיָהּ
[1] Throughout this book, which is written from a Jewish perspective, I will often refer to the Hebrew Bible by its traditional Hebrew name, Miqra, which, like the acronym Tanakh (תנ"ך) includes all of the canonical Torah, Prophets, and Writings.
[2] Recalling the Covenant: A Contemporary Commentary on the Five Books of the Torah (2nd ed.; Brooklyn: Ktav, 2015).
[3] The implication of the word “intertextuality,” as opposed to, say, “inner-biblical allusion,” is that the relationship between two linked texts is understood as going both ways: each may be understood in light of the other, rather than reading each in isolation, or reading only the later text in light of the earlier, but not vice versa.
[4] With this phrase, which is adopted throughout this study, Rabbi Sassoon referred not simply to the canonical prophetic corpus (Nevi’im) or to literature that functions to predict the future, but rather, in a technical sense, to divinely inspired writing that employs certain complex literary techniques in order to transmit divine messages, regardless of its current classification within the tripartite canon.
[5] For the former, see, e.g., our comments on the repetition of the words רחק and עני in Ps. 22 (chapter 6). For the latter see, e.g., our discussion of how Ps. 19 mirrors the structure of the Gen. 1 creation narrative (chapter 5).
[6] See further the first excursus at the end of this chapter, “On Number Symbolism in the Tanakh from the Work of Rabbi Solomon D. Sassoon.”
[7]See Michael V. Fox, "Software Report #1," Hebrew Studies 28 (1987): 219-22. A quote from the review: “This program represents a step of historic importance in Hebrew Bible research, on the order of significance of Mandelkern’s Concordance. If the program can be properly developed, it will revolutionize the way Bible scholars go about their research.” Today, of course, the use of computer software has become an integral part of research in biblical studies via programs like BibleWorks and Accordance.
[8] Needless to say, the presence of variant texts known and unknown is an important scholarly concern. The bibliography pertaining to the textual history of Psalms alone is vast, and the issues are too thorny to be dealt with in detail here. Presently it will suffice to state my general contention that the precise literary structures we have uncovered overwhelmingly validate the most normatively authoritative text preserved by Jewish scribes, contrary to the preference of many scholars to treat the text as radically unstable. To illustrate, contrast, e.g., D.J.A. Clines, “What Remains of the Hebrew Bible?” (Studia Theologica 56:1 [2002], 76–95), who extrapolates from the single sample text of 2 Sam. 22, as compared with Ps. 18 and the Qumran variant of 2 Sam. 22, that roughly one in four words of the Hebrew Bible is irredeemably uncertain due to scribal errors or emendations yielding other variants. Leaving aside the scientific soundness of extrapolating from a single poem to all of the Miqra, we argue, in the conclusion of chapter 5, on the contrary, that variances between the two Masoretic forms of 2 Sam. 22 and Ps. 18 are often discernibly meaningful, intentional and indicative of editorial precision — one of many indications that the scribal imperative to transmit a consistent text long predated the Masoretes. Our analysis of the Book 1 acrostics, finding apparent “flaws” in the alphabetic sequence to follow a meaningful pattern determined by those psalms’ contents, provides a more detailed demonstration of this phenomenon. See further, chapters 3, 7, and 8 below. A condensed and earlier version of much of the material in these chapters is presented in my article, “Evil and the Disruption of Order: A Structural Analysis of the Acrostics in the First Book of Psalms,” Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 6 Article 5 (2006), available at http://www.jhsonline.org/Articles/article_55.pdf.
[9] This is not, of course, to rule out the possibility that earlier forms of many psalms were produced by other authors, and that these were reworked and eventually combined into an edited whole. Indeed, earlier substrates in the final text are a virtual certainty — but what we have before us, to study, recite and analyze, is to be understood as a singular final work, reflecting a unified authorial and editorial intent.
[10] A student of mine once related a joke he heard from an Israeli Bible scholar: “The difficulty for traditional commentators has always been to explain why, in Psalms, a given chapter follows its predecessor; in Proverbs, a given verse follows its predecessor; and in Job, a given word follows its predecessor.” Would that every scholar agreed the first two questions were worth asking!
[11] Hence it is my contention that even those who might disagree with the theory of Jeremian authorship will find much of value in this study.
[12] As Rabbi Shamah notes, Leviticus 27, which follows the curses, is “basically an appendix, establishing the laws that provide the means and material for support of the sanctuary and the priesthood. It belongs only where it is, at the very end” (Recalling the Covenant, 613).
[13] Jer. 1:10.
[14] Compare Exod. 4:10 and Jer. 1:6.
[15] See Jer. 31.
[16] For an especially vivid account of Jeremiah’s writing activities, see Jer. 36.
[17] See Jer. 42–44.
[18] Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, Vol. 6, Article 5 (2006), available at http://www.jhsonline.org/Articles/article_55.pdf.
[19] With this phrase I refer to the practice of the psalmist of placing a key word, phrase, or larger passage at the precise center of a larger literary unit (or series of units) for the purpose of emphasis, a practice which can operate on multiple levels simultaneously in order to reveal complex webs of meaning. Several examples of this phenomenon will be observed throughout this study. See further the excursus to chapter 5, “On the Function of ‘Psalm Centers.’”
[20] As it draws at length on the language and content of Gen. 1–3, it may be thought of as a sequential “beginning” in some sense!
[21] Pss. 42 and 73 open Books 2 and 3 with Sons of Qoraḥ and Asaph, respectively.
[22] Pss. 88 and 89, the former a Sons of Qoraḥ psalm, form a literary unit which closes Book 3.
[23] 1 Sam. 16 ff.