Psalm 78:23-29 Commentary

The seven verses the Lectionary carves out of Psalm 78 for us represents about 10% of this fairly long historical psalm.  But as historical overview psalms go, Psalm 78 definitely counts as one of the more downbeat ones among the lot.  Although this poem recounts many positive things and events from the history of Israel, its primary refrain comes down to something like, “But then the people sinned all over again anyway and God’s anger was stirred and he punished the people, as they well deserved.”

It seems that there is no divine grace or mercy that can be recounted in Psalm 78 that is not swiftly followed by the sad spectacle of Israel at its rebellious worst.  The last dozen verses of Psalm 78 end on a positive note of God’s rousing Godself to defend his people and choose David as the one whose line would remain on the throne forever until a redeemer would come once and for all.  Mostly, though, a lot of this poem is slogging through some very unhappy waters.

Verses 23-29 that the RCL assigns for Year B are among the more positive parts of the psalm, recounting as they do the gift of manna from heaven—calling it “the bread of angels” in a nice turn of phrase—as well as the quail that God gave the people to eat upon occasion.  You might notice, however, that the first word of verse 30 is “But . . .” and if your guess is that this conjunction is going to be followed by something nasty, you are right.  What follows is not pleasant to read or ponder.

Truth is, knowing that this is the context here, it feels a little hard to just bracket all that out and try to treat this recounting of manna and quail as singularly a happy little vignette for us to look at with appreciation.  Yes, seeing God’s gracious provision for his people in a wilderness place of death is nice and all but in the psalm these seven verses mostly serve as the set-up for another graphic depiction of a craven people whom God zaps in various ways.  That makes preaching on such a pericope challenging because on the one hand it does not feel like honest hermeneutics or homiletics to leave out what follows but then again, admitting the context may not make for a very happy sermon either!  (Not that sermons always need to be “happy” but one does hope all preaching in a Christian context is ultimately about the hope and joy of the Gospel.)

Might these verses, especially when taken in context, lead to a sermon that cautions people against the sin of ingratitude?  Are we today ever similar to Israel?  Do we have the blessings of God rained down upon us only for us to then fail to take notice and fail to use such gifts in God-glorifying ways?  True, all the punishment for our sins has been laid on Jesus alone and in a Christian context it feels dodgy to suggest that God still punishes us for sin when the New Testament makes it clear that God let those punishments fall on God’s Son so that we would forever after be free of the fear of punishment.  We never want to preach in ways that undermine that central fact of the Gospel.

But surely we should not need the fear of punishment to want to live gratefully for all that God gives us.  The beauty of grace ought to be enough to motivate a lifetime (and on into eternity) of thankfulness from all of us.

In a recent seminar on Preaching and Gratitude that I co-led with Neal Plantinga, one of the pastor participants suggested in one of our sessions that among the things that appear to block gratitude in people is a failure to recognize the enormity of God’s grace in Christ.  This in turn reminded me of the Reformed Confession known as “The Canons of Dort.”  Anyone familiar with the Canons knows that it hammers away on human sinfulness.  Among the main points of the Calvinist theological tradition as summarized in the Canons is the teaching usually labeled “Total Depravity.”  In truth in the Canons this is better termed “Total Inability.”  The claim is not that any human being is as depraved as they can be in every sector of their hearts and lives.  That would be counterintuitive to claim given that most all of us are acquainted with non-believers who are nevertheless stellar people and neighbors.

But we are totally unable to save ourselves from our sin and misery.  We cannot do anything that would ever prove sufficient to save even our own selves much less anyone else.  The Canons of Dort paint this picture pretty grimly but that dim portrait is in service of making the light of God’s grace in Christ shine all the more brightly.  When you are aware of all that God in Christ did and that you could never have done on your own, then a mighty tidal wave of gratitude wells up within your heart and soul.

The people of Israel repeatedly received amazing gifts at the hand of God, as recounted throughout Psalm 78.  In this lection’s handful of verses it’s manna and quail but a lot of other wonderful gifts get mentioned across this psalm’s 72 verses including the gift of God’s Law, the gift of God’s covenant with Abraham, the gift of the exodus from Egypt, the crossing of the Red Sea on dry ground, the gift of the cloudy and fiery pillars to lead Israel, the gift of fresh water from a rock in the desert, and more.  So much has been received and if only we could remember all that, it would become a fine generator of gratitude and that in turn becomes an engine of joy.

It is sad that this reading’s seven verses are nestled in such a larger context of unhappiness and doom and gloom.  Among our dearest hopes, then, should be that the things we can recount as God’s gifts to us will never be similarly situated in a larger and sadder tale of sin and ingratitude.  As Jesus says in John 6, the Israelites ate manna in the wilderness but still died.  But Jesus is now himself the true manna come down from heaven and when we partake of that living bread, then we have a life in us that will well up to all eternity.  And that right there is more than sufficient reason to generate a never-ending stream of thanksgiving and transformed living.

Illustration Idea

The first time we hear of manna and quail in the Old Testament is in Exodus 16.  It is not long after the exodus from Egypt and the people were becoming increasingly hungry and thirsty in the arid wilderness.  So they complain and ask for food and on that occasion God provided it freely and without any judgment on the people.  They were hungry and that was understandable to God.  The next time we read about quail, however, is in Numbers 11 and that story ends unhappily because on that occasion the complaining of some (referred to as “the rabble” among them) was not as understandable and was tinged with a fair amount of a rebellious spirit against God.

It is interesting how food and religious practice have long been intertwined.  Many religious have festivals that center on food and feasting.  In the 19^th century a number of more apocalyptic sects developed special foods to be eaten only by insiders to the group.  A man named Graham invented a particular style of cracker even as another man named Kellogg was known for producing a certain cereal made with corn.  The Jewish tradition had Passover that was replaced by a new kind of meal that Jesus instituted during Passover on the night in which he was betrayed.

One way or another there is the belief that food can be sacred and celebrative and symbolic and that a key ongoing task that God performs for God’s people is the providential gift of food and drink.  When God feeds us, it is a tangible display of God’s enthusiasm for our lives and God’s desire to see us flourish and be healthy and well.