Psalm 1 is a powerful introduction to the Psalter. Like most introductions, which open a book but are usually written last, this psalm was probably written or included in the Psalter in this position when the various collections of hymns, songs and laments were brought together into the form we now have it. As the would-be worshippers open the Psalter in worship, figuratively speaking, this introductory psalm challenges them to examine their lives to see if they are the kind of people whose lives find the delight of the Lord whom they worship.
Scholars often refer to this psalm as a "wisdom psalm." This is based on the conception that much of the biblical material came from three circles of tradition; those of the priests, the wise men, and the prophets. While such a distinction might be helpful in sorting out our understanding of these different social groups and the roles they played in ancient Israel, it would be foolish to press the point too keenly. As those of us who have been brought up, or who live, in societies where such (or similar) communal traditions and bonds are still intact, can tell, in reality these various traditions intermingle in a contiguous course of societal interactions, so that it is not at all improbable for a single individual to be priest, prophet and sage rolled up in one.
In literary terms, the psalm is a work of art of the highest order, exhibiting a coherence of thought and simplicity of expression that takes its challenge straight to the heart, as good poetry is meant to do. In the first stanza, or movement, the spotlight is turned on the righteous man, and the cadence climbs until it reaches a climax in the almost too-good-to-be-true declaration that "everything he does prospers" (v1-3). Then the spotlight switches over to the wicked and their fate (vv4-5). V6 concludes the psalm, enunciating a spiritual principle that at once warns and comforts the listener who is picking up the Psalter to enter into worship. Too bad that this psalm is preached so infrequently!
Low Chai Hok
©Alberith, 2012