40
I waited patiently for Yahweh, and he heard my cry. He brought me up out of the horrible pit, out of the slime of the swamp, and set my feet upon a rock, and told me the way I should go. And he put a new song in my mouth, full of praises of God; now many shall see it, and fear, and trust in Yahweh.
Happy is the man who makes Yahweh his hero, instead of those liars who are puffed up and proud. My god Yahweh has done so many things for us men that nobody could ever count them. I would list them for you in my song, but it is impossible; it would take forever.
O Yahweh, you do not require sacrifice and slaughter. The shedding of blood is not what you demand.
Then I said: “Look, I am here. I’m the one who is written about in your book: the one who loves to do God’s will; divine knowledge is in my blood. I have instructed the congregation in righteousness; I did not hide your message to mankind. Now do not withhold your tender mercies from me: preserve me for all future time.
So many evils have encircled me. My heart is failing. Come help me, O Yahweh. Hasten to rescue me.
Confound and drive backward those who wish me evil. Award them desolation, who sneak around me laying traps and saying “Aha, aha.”
Give me a good life, not a bad life. And let your image be magnified above the gates of the city forever. Just please hurry up and come save me: Stop tarrying, O God!
41
Blessed is anyone who considers the poor: Yahweh will deliver him from adversity. Yahweh will preserve him, and keep him alive, and not give him to his enemies. When he is languishing on his bed in sickness, Yahweh will tend to him, and nurse him to health.
“Why would you let me decline and perish, O Yahweh,” his Anointed One says, “that would reflect poorly on your holy name. Instead, save me from my enemies; lift me above those who whisper hateful things against me, who gather around my bed and plot my demise, saying: ‘An evil disease cleaves fast to him; he must have angered his god; now he shall rise no more.’ Even one of my best friends spoke like this about me, and he spurned me with his heel: thus I desired to bite it. O Yahweh, have pity and raise me up, so that I may requite him. Let me repay those that spoke ill against me. For you favor me; you do not want my enemies to triumph: if I look bad, you look bad.”
Praise Yahweh from everlasting to everlasting. Amen, and amen.
42
As the gazelle desires to drink from the freshwater stream, so my soul desires you, O God. I am so thirsty for you; I am parched for the Living God: When can I come before you, and see you, dear God?
Day and night, I have had no meat but my tears, while they continually say to me: “Where is your God?”
When I remember these things, my soul pours out. I accompanied the masses to the high place, to praise God on the holyday. Why is my soul crestfallen, when everyone else seems filled with good cheer?
When my soul is downcast within me, I will remember your face, dear God: I will recall how you looked, when we were with you beyond the Great Basin shrub-steppe, in the wilderness, on the hill of Horeb. I shall not forget how you appeared to us then.
Deep calls unto deep at the noise of your waterspouts: all your waves and billows have gone over me.
Yet Yahweh will command his lovingkindness in the daytime, and he shall sing to me at night when I meditate upon the Volcano. I will say unto God my rock: “Why have you forgotten me? Why do you make me mourn under this oppression? Like a sword in my bones is the reproach of my enemies, when they keep mocking me, asking: ‘Where is your God?’ So, I answer: Why do you allow my soul to be crestfallen and downcast? Have you banished me from heaven? I will continue to praise you, in hopes that you save me; and I will remember the look of your bright face. I gain health from the memory of your countenance, O my God.”
43
Give me your verdict, dear God; prove to these unbelieving nations that I am righteous. For you are supposed to be my strength: Why did you cast me off? Why must I keep mourning under the oppression of my enemies? Send out your light and your truth, speak to me through the Urim and Thummim of your ephod; tell me where to go and what to do. Let me enter your holy hill, and convene with you in your chambers, and play the harp for you, and we can laugh together. Why leave my soul tossed out like wastewater upon the ground? Let me look like you, O God.
44
We have heard with our ears, O God, what the ancients have told us, about the work you did in the days of old. How you strode around slaying whole nations, and transferring people here and there, bringing them into new lands, and then taking them out; translocating various groups, favoring one, denying another; then changing your scheme and summoning shock-troops from elsewhere to ravage the land. It is hard to know what you intend. We shall hold you as our president, O God Aton: command deliverance for your caravan. We believe that you will stay with us, that our nation will be the one that you choose to marry. If you stick with us, we will praise you continually, with songs forever. With your help, we will push down our enemies: through your name, we will tread underfoot whoever rises against us. We will not trust in our arrows and swords: you yourself will go before us, in person, and save us; you will put to shame our enemies. You, Aton, O God Most High, bright as the sun, out on the battlefield, slashing our foes with your glittering sword. We will then sing your praises, forever. Think about that.
Why do you cast us off? Why did you put us to shame, instead of our enemies? Why did you not go forth at the head of your armies, on our behalf? You left us to turn tail and flee from our adversaries, and those who hate us plundered us for spoil. You handed us over like sheep appointed for meat. You scattered us, as but a nation among the nations, like every other nation. What gives? You sold your people for nothing; you did not increase your wealth by charging a price. You made us a reproach to our neighbors, a scorn and a derision to those round about us. People now refer to us with derogatory slurs, and they shake their head when they see us. I am continually confused, hanging my head, covering my face in shame. Strangers now blaspheme you, O God, because you did not avenge us.
Despite all this, we still have not forgotten you, O holy Aton. We still hold up our end of the contract you signed. Our heart is not false; we did not walk away from you; although you have sore broken us in the place of dragons, and covered us with the shadow of death. Search us out, try to find any wrongdoing – you are God, you can see into the heart – I guarantee that we are pure. And yet, for your sake, we are killed all day long; we are counted as sheep for the slaughter.
Awake! Why do you sleep so long, O Yahweh! Rise up and deliver us! What reason do you have to hide? Pay attention to our affliction. This is unconscionable! Look up and see our oppression. Our soul is bowed down to the dust: our belly cleaves the earth. We will bite your heel, if you don’t save us. Arise for our help, and redeem us, this very day!
45
Now my heart shall compose something lovely. A good matter. Let me praise our president. My tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
You are fairer than all other mortals. Grace is poured into your lips. God has happified you permanently.
Gird your sword upon your thigh, mighty man. You are our glorious majesty.
Come out, riding your horse. Shoot your arrows: hit your enemies in the chest, the sharp tip pierces the heart. All your enemies fall underneath you.
Hold your scepter high. It is filled with electrical bolts. It buzzes when you shake it.
God’s throne is high up in the clouds. He loves righteousness, and hates wickedness. This God, your God, has anointed you with the oil of gladness above your fellows.
All your garments smell of perfume: myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces. Ex-presidents’ daughters comprise your harem. Your first lady, the queen, stands at your right hand, in garments of gold stolen from Ophir.
The president loves how beautiful the first lady is. And she worships the president.
The president’s daughter is all glorious within: her clothing is of wrought gold. She is brought before the president wearing an ornate garment, and a many-colored raiment of fine needlework; she is attended by an apple-shaped bevy of fellow virgins, wherever she goes.
Enter the presidential residence with gladness and rejoicing. Praise the president forever and ever and ever.
46
God is our fortress, our underground nuclear bunker: a very present help in dangerous times. So we will not fear when the earth begins to quake; even if mountains are collapsing into the sea. We remain calm, even when the waters roar and are troubled, while the hills swell up with lava. Think about that.
There is a river, and streams, and gladness. And God is right in the middle of all this: immovable. When all the nations of the globe rage and scream, terrified of universal destruction, God shall help the little girl who loves him, and that right early. For Yahweh of the Armies is with us; the greatest Man of War in the World of Death. He uttered his voice, the earth melted. Think about that.
Come and look at all the damage that Yahweh God caused on our planet. He made the place wholly desolate. Then he caused all the wars to cease, unto the ends of the earth: nevermore war, to all the earth’s edges. He broke all the arrows; he cut all the spears in sunder; he burned all the chariots of fire.
Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among all nations, I will be exalted over every living thing. I will not take no for an answer. Think about that.
47
O clap your hands, everybody, and shout with triumph unto God. For Yahweh Most High is terrible: he is the madman! Tyrant over all the earth. He shall subdue everything: everything goes under his feet. He shall choose, not you. You love him; he is obliged to love no one. God goes upward with a shout, Yahweh with the sound of a trumpet. Sing God praises, quick, sing praises unto the Terror, make haste, sing praises! For God owns the whole planet: it is clenched in his fist; understand? Praise him.
48
Great is Yahweh, so praise him greatly. The Lord GOD is big. He is inside his mountain. Beautifully situated on the joyfullest place in all the earth. An enormous hill. Look north: O! he is large.
The colossal jinni from Mount Peor; this is his refuge. All the presidents of the world came and stood in a circle around his holy hill. They saw it; they marveled. Then they were troubled, so they hasted away. Fear took hold upon them there, and pain, as of a woman in travail. God shot them through with his terrors. Look: he broke the ships of Tarshish with his east wind. The leadership came and saw the perfect City of God, as it was rendered by Yahweh of the Armies; and they fled away with sharp cramps in their gut. God will establish this utopia forever, and he will expand until he fills all of time and space. Think about that.
We have pondered your lovingkindness, O God, from where you sit amid your rivers. You showed us your city, and we walked round about it; we saw the towers thereof. Your right hand is full of righteousness. We marked well your bulwarks and palaces, and we said: “This God is our God for ever and ever: he will surely guide us unto death.”
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