AS WE’VE SEEN again and again, the book of Psalms is filled with words of praise and gratitude. It’s clear that the psalmists love God, even if they don’t always say it. Throughout the psalms, in fact, they speak of love in many ways. Psalm 119 alone, for example, declares the psalmist’s love for God’s Law or commandments twelve times (it’s a long psalm). Various psalms also speak of love for God’s name (5:11; 69:36) or God’s salvation (40:16; 70:4). And of course, some refer to the faithful who love God (97:10; 122:6).

The opening of Psalm 116, however, is unique. It’s the only psalm to begin with a personal declaration of love for God: “I love the LORD.” The psalmist then immediately gives the reason for that worshipful, grateful love: “for he heard my voice, he heard my cry for mercy” (vs. 1, NIV).

We don’t know what the trouble was, but the situation was dire, possibly life-threatening. The psalmist speaks as if being encircled by ropes that reach up from the underworld to bind and squeeze the life out of them. To put it in modern terms, it’s possible that the psalmist is describing a panic attack: an overwhelming sense of impending doom that can be accompanied by physical symptoms like chest pain, a pounding heart, and difficulty breathing.

There’s even a suggestion of paranoid thinking later in the psalm, as if the psalmist was the victim of a conspiracy:

I trusted in the Lord when I said,
    “I am greatly afflicted”;
in my alarm I said,
    “Everyone is a liar.” (vss. 10-11)

Again, there’s no way to know what was happening. Other psalmists do, in fact, complain of enemies that want to see them fail or are even actively plotting their downfall. Here, the psalmist seems to admit to a possible emotional overreaction in which they suspected everyone and trusted no one. In that state, not surprisingly, the psalmist cried out to God: “LORD, save me” (vs. 4).

And whatever the affliction, God heard and answered. The psalmist now knows without a doubt that God is trustworthy, and vows to keep calling upon him:

Because he turned his ear to me,
    I will call on him as long as I live. (vs. 2)

And why not? The psalmist has personally experienced God’s saving compassion:

The LORD is gracious and righteous;
    our God is full of compassion.
The LORD protects the unwary;
    when I was brought low, he saved me. (vss. 5-6)

And now, having been rescued from distress, the psalmist can be at peace:

Return to your rest, my soul,
    for the LORD has been good to you. (vs. 7)

. . .

PSALM 116 PAINTS a poetic picture of love and gratitude. “What shall I return to the LORD for all his goodness to me?” the psalmist asks in verse 12. To begin with, as mentioned in the previous post, the psalmist has a vow to fulfill:

I will lift up the cup of salvation
    and call on the name of the LORD.
I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
    in the presence of all his people. (vss. 13-14)

The psalmist, it seems, is purposing to go to the temple in Jerusalem to present a thank offering and a libation or drink offering to go with it:

I will sacrifice a thank offering to you
    and call on the name of the LORD.
I will fulfill my vows to the LORD
    in the presence of all his people,
in the courts of the house of the LORD—
    in your midst, Jerusalem. (vss. 17-19)

Note that the psalmist says twice, “I will fulfill my vows to the LORD in the presence of all his people.” That’s not a way of saying, “When I go to the temple, I guess a bunch of people will already be there.” The psalmist’s offering is an intentionally public act, a witness to the goodness and compassion of God. Before, the psalmist had called upon God in desperation; this time, the psalmist will call upon the name of the LORD in the presence of others, drawing them into acts of thanks and praise.

. . .

I LOVE THE LORD, the psalmist says. Because God rescued them from calamity, or as verse 16 puts it, freed them from their chains, they vow to serve God. But this isn’t just a one-on-one agreement, a private act of piety that’s just between the psalmist and God. As we saw in verse 5, while they know God to be gracious and righteous from personal experience, they don’t say, “my God is full of compassion,” but “our God is full of compassion.”

And let’s not forget: the final hallelujah, with which the psalm ends, is not just Hebrew for “hooray.” Today, even when we say “Praise God!” it can be an individual outburst of gratitude that doesn’t require anyone else to be around. But hallelujah, or in English, “Praise the LORD,” is a command — and it’s plural. It’s a call to the people: All of you, praise the LORD. The psalmist’s love, in other words, overflows into a public act of devotion and a call to the people to join in the celebration.

In our churches and congregations today, I suspect that many of us are more likely to share prayer requests in which we call upon God for help than we are to tell each other how we’ve experienced God’s grace and compassion. But both should be part of the life of a worshiping community.

Individually, we may call on God in times of desperation and fear, and hopefully, with love and thanksgiving as well. But it’s not just my God or your God, but our God to whom we call. Let’s worship in a way that invites others into our praise.