James W. Alexander was a preaching professor at Princeton Theological Seminary in the mid-nineteenth century. He encouraged his preaching students to be open and honest in their preaching. In this, he wasn’t insisting that they use the pulpit to talk about their opinions or past sins. Turning to an old French preacher as a role model, Alexander reminded them that for Bossuet, “everything is simple and natural … all is … described in such a manner as to conceal all art” (Thoughts on Preaching, 288). Plain speaking. No art.
What could be more transparent than for the poet to describe how he speaks to and worships God? Perhaps you hear in verse 1 how the poet tells us that “it is good to give thanks to the Lord.” At least, we assume that he is speaking to us, the reader. Who else is he instructing? But notice that in the next line, the poet is no longer speaking to us, but to God: “to sing praise to your name, O Most High.”
In Psalm 92 the poet seems to be standing between an audience and God, beginning his psalm by speaking to the audience, then turning his face upward to speak to God. Notice how this happens again at the end. In verses 12 to 15 the poet would seem to be looking out over a large audience and reminding them that “the righteous flourish like the palm tree” and that “they are planted in the house of the Lord” to “bear fruit in old age” and to “declare that the Lord is upright.” He is speaking to an audience in the first line (“it is good to give thanks to the Lord”) and in the last few lines of the poem.
In the middle of the psalm, the poet speaks to God. Notice the frequent use of the word, “you”. He is speaking directly to God, in the presence of an audience. We might think of Jesus preaching His great sermon, the Sermon on the Mount (Mt. 5-7). This sermon is actually preached to His disciples, but in the presence of a crowd (look at Mt. 5:1). The poet is speaking to God, in the presence of us, the readers. Why?
To James W. Alexander, the good preacher is the plain, simple preacher. No art. The poet is opening his heart to show us what his conversational life with God is like. He sets up several cameras on several tripods, and talks to God, so that we can watch from a distance.
The poet willingly talks to God, even sings to God with a lute, harp, and lyre. Perhaps he can play all three. And he happily displays his happiness before God, for God Himself is the One who makes him glad by the works of His hands, and the poet’s gladness erupts into joy (Ps. 92:3-5). The poet knows that wickedness is all around him, thriving even, surrounding him like untreated weeds, but this does not hamper his joy for a second (Ps. 92:7). And fools, well, they are present as well (Ps. 92:6). In fact, even as the poet sings to God, God is battling His enemies, scattering them, surely to vanquish them (Ps. 92:9). And even God is fighting with one hand, He is exalting with the other. Do you see how the poet describes another work of God, that He exalts the poet’s horn (meaning, strength) and covers him with oil (meaning, healing).
Pay attention to when the poet speaks to you (the beginning and the end). But also pay attention to when the poet speaks to (sings to) God. And pay attention to what God does for the poet. The poet opens his life of worship to you and me. In doing so, he is showing us what we have, just like him, in Christ.
