What Makes You So Special? – Psalm 87
“What makes you so special?”
Man, that’s a nasty thing to say. You mostly hear it on playgrounds.
Occasionally adults whip it at you in an especially insecure moment.
What’s the first response that pops into your mind? For me, it’s
“nothing, I’m not trying to . . .” Maybe instead of defending yourself,
you launch an attack of your own. “. . . the fact that I’m better than
you!”
For an ancient Israelite, it was all about tribe, clan, and ancestors.
The more important your relatives, or ancestors, the more special your
place in the social pecking order. Check out this conversation from
an excavated piece of papyrus. Scholars speculate that it’s an ancient
story about a couple of Jewish kids at Shiloh for the feast of Purim in
1643bc, during Eli’s reign as High Priest . . .
“. . . my father’s the chief of the Shaulites, one of the first five families
in Simeon.”
“Oh yeah, well, I’m a Levite, I’m gonna be a priest.”
“A donkey priest.”
“Shut up!”
“You carry everything on your shoulders.”
“Better than not carrying anything.”
“Donkey.”
“Quit it!”
“Donkey. You come from Korah!”
The papyrus cuts off at that point. I’m guessing that’s where they
started throwin’ down. (You’re aware that I made that whole thing up
so that you could imagine the scene, right? Okay, cool.)
Sitting in your living room, you read “Korah” and think, “what’s so
bad about Korah?” If you’ve read this part of the Bible, you probably
whizzed right past “of the sons of Korah” at the beginning of Psalm
87. If you actually stop to consider it, you might think, “Ahhh, ‘sons
of Korah.’ Guess they were some important guys.”
Very few of us think, “Rebel. Cursed. Snuffed out by God. The
ground opened up and swallowed him, his household, his possessions,
and everything that belonged to him. How’d any of his sons
become priests and leaders of temple worship?” Even fewer of us
know the answer.
Somehow, despite Korah’s journey to the center of the earth,
some of his descendants survived. They were still part of the tribe of
Levi, and Moses assigned them to priestly duty. They got to carry all
the holy pieces of the tabernacle on their shoulders as they trudged
through the desert. “Thanks, Moses.” All the other priestly servants
got to load theirs in carts. Worse, they carried the stigma of Korah’s
rebellion and death. It must have sucked to be one of the sons of
Korah, until David . . .
King David didn’t just take the Ark of the Covenant back to Israel
and prepare to build the temple. He created a whole new format of
temple worship. He created full-time jobs for priests as doorkeepers,
caretakers, musicians, and singers. Guess who the singers were . . . Yep.
Twenty-five of the psalms are attributed to them. It says in 1 Chronicles
9:33 that they were “free from other service; for they were engaged
in their work day and night.” All day long they sang, worshiped, and
wrote songs. Sounds like a sweet gig to me.
The sons of Korah begin this song (Psalm 87) with “His foundation
is in the holy mountains.” In commentaries they mention that
“Jerusalem sits on the top of a number of mountains, and so this
references Jerusalem.” Hmmm . . . As a writer, even if I was talking
about Jerusalem, I’d want to get you thinking about God’s cosmic
home, the holy mountains where “the gods,” but in this case the God
lives. Imagine Mount Olympus, from Greek mythology, or something
similar. God starts building His home there.
But then verse 2 says that Yahweh “loves the gates of Zion more
than any other place Jacob lives in.” Gates didn’t just include the
doors, but all the walls and everything enclosed by Zion. And Zion
literally is the same Hebrew word as the one translated “landmark”
– with a slight change in pronunciation. It made (and to this day
makes) every Jew think of the mountain where the Temple (God’s
home) is built. Jacob was another way for them to say Israel, only it
carried with it the idea of Jacob stealing his brother’s birthright.
So consider verses 1 and 2 as a way to say that God started building
His home in the cosmic mountains and then finished it on the physical
mountain of Zion. It implies that this song is about birthrights.
God chose Zion over all the other imperfect places in Israel. “Magical,
wondrous things get talked about when people mention the city
where God Himself actually lives,” verse 3 sums up before the first
section ends.
As the music plays during the interlude, your brain starts thinking
how amazing it is that the One and Only God chose a place in
Israel to live. “Man, it must be cool to be in the holy city itself.” The
symphony of notes makes you feel rich and majestic. Harmonies and
solos merge with the instruments. And then a different sound begins
the second section . . .
Now they start singing different names of countries and cities:
Rahab, Babylon, Philistia, Tyre, Ethiopia (or Cush). You and me
have no clue the images and history these names would paint in their
minds unless we dig a little . . .
You might remember Rahab the prostitute who hid Joshua’s spies
in Jericho and saved herself and . . . That’s a totally different Rahab.
This one’s used in a couple of different psalms. It’s the term for the
mythical sea monster that God defeated to bring order to the earth
and create dry land. It’s also a poetic way to reference Egypt, the
Exposing the Psalms 96 mighty crocodile of the Nile River that God defeated to make Israel a nation. They had a god for just about everything. Their culture swarmed with adultery, sexual promiscuity, and STDs. In fact, one of God’s promises to Israel when they left Egypt was that he wouldn’t bring any of the “diseases of the Egyptians” upon them if they followed Him (all the symptoms mentioned correspond perfectly to
crabs, herpes, etc. . . .)
“Babylon” isn’t talking about Nebuchadnezzar and his empire,
because it probably wasn’t Israel’s primary threat when this was
written. Here, it calls to mind Ur and the city that Abraham left
to follow God. Ur at that time celebrated the god Marduk, head of
the Babylonian pantheon. Every home had additional family gods.
Plus, it was the original “Sin City” of the ancient world. Put Rahab
and Babylon together and people go, “that’s the beginning of your
ancestry? You’re not so holy.” The sons of Korah are singing, “You
think we were born in Egypt and Babylon.”
Then they follow it up by singing, “Hey, Philistia, Tyre, Ethiopia,
all you countries around us who think you’re better than us and want
to make us your servants. Look at me. I was born in Zion, the place
the Only God that matters decided to make His home. And when
people talk about Zion, they’ll say, this person and that person were
born there. They’re part of God’s family. And the Supreme Being of
the unverse is going to make sure that they’re His children forever.”
“Yahweh Himself is gonna take roll of every person in the earth
and say, ‘this one that one . . . this one here . . . was born in My house.
They get all the honor that belongs to me.’”
***
The music and singing begin washing over you again. This time it’s
regal and majestic mixed with sweet and soothing. You can feel your
heart tugging you with God’s tenderness. He’s named you His own
personal son, His own treasured daughter. Nobody can take that from
you. It’s the same thing that happened to these sons of rebellion who
turned into singers that spend all their time in the residence of the
God who orders the universe.
When they start singing again it’s just voices and flutes. It starts out
tender and lovely.
All the life and beauty that springs from me, comes from You.
The music plays a little more and they sing it again. This time you
hear,
All my life comes from the river that flows out from your temple.
The music rises a bit more and they sing it again. Now you tap into
your own ecstasy of emotion, “I’m connected, we’re connected to the
center of God’s heart. He’s chosen me. He’s chosen us. We flow with
Him. Our beauty comes from Him. He makes us beautiful. He turns
the worst stories into honor and glory. We’re the treasured children of
God. I’m the special child of Almighty God!”
Who knows how long it’s been as the music finally stops. You walk
out with the song still dancing in your thoughts. Your face shines
with joy, so much so that you run into a big dude carrying a bunch
of firewood.
“Hey, what makes you so special that ya think you own the whole
road?”
“Sorry,” you say with a smile.
But you can’t stop the music repeating in your head, “you’re born
in Zion.”
“You’re born . . . in Zion.”
“You . . . were . . . born . . . in . . . Zion.”
Follow-up questions
1. What is the best thing you could tell someone about yourself to
prove that you deserve honor and respect for who you are?
2. What in your past or family history disqualifies you from living out
your dreams?
3. How much time does it usually take you to connect to the God of
the universe?
