Psalm 65: Awesome

I once had a friend tell me that she had committed herself to never using the word “awesome” to describe anything other than God and His work. She shared that she didn’t want to ever diminish God or elevate anything that was less than God. I believe her exact statement was, “I don’t ever want to refer to a cheeseburger with the same adjective that I would use to describe God.” Language is funny. We have giant words that we end up using for relatively small things, in doing so, we don’t only lose the value of the word, we diminish the things that the word rightly describes. Just think of how we use the word “love”. I love my wife, love my children, but I also love tacos, I love basketball, I love sweatshirts. Do I really have the same affection for each of these things? Are each of these things truly of equal worth and value? Of course not, but then why do I use the same language to describe them all? Maybe a better question is how do I rightly ascribe love, affection, awe and beauty? I believe that we need to see that there is an effort involved in rightly giving praise, worship and adoration. I think that most of us would agree that God deserves “the highest praise”, my question as I pour over Psalm 65 is, how do we offer Him what He deserves?

The Psalm begins with these words, “Praise is due to you, O God, in Zion”. Most other English translations take a similar tact. The New International Version says, “Praise awaits you” and the New King James Version says, “Praise is awaiting You”. The interesting thing about the verse is that the Hebrew word used here means “stillness” and when used as an adverb, “silently”. The New International Version @1973, 1978, 1984, translates the verse more literally, “Praise is stillness”. We most often think of praise as an exuberance that wells up within us, it’s the overflow of our excitement, when we are so filled with joy and happiness that we can’t contain it any longer. Did you notice that most of those ideas of praise center on us? Much of our praise centers around God doing something that draws praise out of us, He acts, and we respond. But David is defining praise for God that is not centered on the one who gives praise but rather the One to whom it belongs. “Praise is stillness”.

The praise of Psalm 65 stops you in your tracks. It takes your breath away. It doesn’t fill you with excitement, but wonder; it doesn’t move you to dance, it causes you to kneel, even to fall down. The praise that comes from our mouths is a response to what God has done, but the praise that silences our hearts comes when we remember who He is. I don’t believe that one is greater than the other, but I am convinced that both are necessary and that it is the silent praise that is often found lacking.

The Scriptures are filled with reminders of what God has done so that we will remember who He is. The reason we encourage one another with what God has done in the past is not because He will do it again but so that we will remember to whom we belong. The story of the Red Sea opening does not mean that God will open every obstacle, but it reminds us that we are always in God’s care. Recounting the miracles of Jesus doesn’t mean that we will “get our miracle”, but it assures us that God can and will do what is right in our lives for His glory. The promise that not one sparrow will fall to the ground apart from the Father does not mean we will never fall, but it gives us the confidence to know that we will never be out of His presence, His love or His hands. Before we shout to God we should bow before Him.

David then wrote, “By awesome deeds you answer us with righteousness”. The Hebrew word translated “awesome” is “yare” and it can mean “to cause astonishment and awe, be held in awe”. When something is truly awesome, it stops us before it moves us. When Saul of Tarsus was encountered by Jesus on the road to Damascus, he was immediately stopped. He was blinded. Before his course was changed it was halted. When Peter first truly realized who Jesus was, after the miraculous catch of fish, he fell at Jesus’ feet and said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” When Isaiah saw the throne room of God he cried out, “Woe is Me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” In each of these examples the awesomeness of God didn’t stir shouts, dances or songs, it took away breath, it created fear, it stopped them in their tracks.

When was the last time God’s awesomeness stopped us? When was the last time we sat silent before God, not because we wanted to hear something but because His majesty was too great for our words? When was the last time we allowed our praise to be stillness? I want to be clear, there is a time and a place for shouting, dancing, singing and what we usually call praising, but if we truly see the awesomeness of God, it won’t make us loud until it has made us silent, it won’t fill us with songs until it’s taken our breath away. Maybe that’s the question we need to ask, when was the last time we saw God in a way that caused us to inhale instead of exhale? Praise is stillness, because sometimes there are no words, but even more, sometimes the greatest praise is not that we let it out, but that we choose to sit down and take Him in.