Psalm 116:1-2, 12-19

“I love the LORD, because he has heard my voice and my supplications. Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live. What shall I return to the LORD for all his bounty to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD, I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people. Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his faithful ones. O LORD, I am your servant; I am your servant, the child of your serving girl. You have loosed my bonds. I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice and call on the name of the LORD. I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people, in the courts of the house of the LORD, in your midst, O Jerusalem.

Praise the LORD!”

I’ll be honest: at first glance, Psalm 116 kind of rubs me the wrong way.

Not in a theological or even historical way – indeed, its theology and history are both fascinating. But in a much more human, slightly petty, simple linguistic way: I hate how much this psalm refers to God using explicitly male nouns and pronouns. This is, admittedly, a somewhat esoteric sticking point. Word choice matters, to be sure. If our fellow human beings deserve to be called what they wish to be called, and how much more so the Creator of the universe? (Confession: I have often joked that if my wife and I ever planted a church, we might name it “God-Is-Not-A-Man Church of the Nazarene.”) Is that the central point of this passage? Certainly not. Does it bug me anyway? Absolutely. But mostly I think it bears mentioning because it also draws our attention to the particular (masculine) name for God that the author uses repeatedly throughout this passage: “the LORD.”

Our best guess is that the ancient Israelites had no qualms about saying the Hebrew name for God transliterated YHWH (sometimes referred to as the Tetragrammaton) out loud. But by the Second Temple period (roughly 500 BC to 70 AD), religious leaders of the day had begun to discourage saying (and later, even writing out) this name for God. Instead they often substituted a different name such as the Phoenician/Ugaritic Adonai, which translates roughly into English as “My Lords.”

Fun fact: eventually likeminded religious scholars decided that this was still too close to speaking or writing God’s true name, and as a result many Orthodox Jews now use the title HaShem (literally “The Name”) instead.

There are also some compelling reasons why the psalmist’s choice of “the LORD” to refer to God has specific sociological and theological connotations. In the Ancient Near East, figures we might describe as “lords” reigned supreme socially, politically, and economically. Lords were almost always male, strong, wealthy, and militaristic. They commanded homage and undying faithfulness from their vassals, and they received it even on pain of death. Lords did not bow, they did not serve, and the certainly did not seek equality with their subjects.

Lords ruled above it all.

Add to this the fact that Psalm 116 comprises the fourth portion of the Psalter known as the Hallel Mizri, or “Egyptian Hallel.” Since ancient times this six-part hallel, or hymn of praise and thanksgiving, has been sung on each of the three major Jewish pilgrimage festivals: Pesach (The Feast of Passover), Shavuot (The Feast of Weeks), and Sukkot (The Feast of Tabernacles). Thus for Jews, there are few more important descriptors of either God’s divine nature or inclination toward humanity.

And so it matters very much that the writer of this Psalm -anonymous, probably male, likely writing in post-exilic Judea- both venerates God in the grandest possible terms (YHWH/Adonai/”The LORD”) and also illuminates God’s intimate, compassionate care for Creation (in striking juxtaposition with most other contemporary lords, either human or divine).

This LORD has always been faithful, both in the past and now in the present. This God can be trusted, regardless of the trustworthiness of God’s people.

This LORD pays attention to the least significant Creation. This God literally bends down to listen to the psalmist’s cry.

This LORD keeps covenant salvifically. This God breaks chains rather than forging them.

This LORD cares deeply for God’s followers, even after death – long after they have outlived their earthly usefulness! This God is bigger than Death itself.

And what is the psalmist’s response? Thanks-giving. Promise-keeping. Covenant-renewing. “Hallu-Yah” the writer joyfully declares. “Praise the LORD!”

These are the words of God for the people of God. Thanks be to God!