Psalm Devotion: Psalm 137 and "I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord"

Psalm Devotion
May 13, 2020

I hope this evening finds you very well. I'm doing okay myself and am appreciating the shift into the summer schedule that we teachers enjoy and need!

I am also appreciating this weekly check-in and reminder of our community of folks who have studied the Book of Psalms together sharing some specifics of our own journeys along the way. I am reminded of our discussion of what psalmists do which is to process the human condition in the presence of God. May we all always be psalmists in that sense, and may this check-in be a reminder of that vital orientation.

Tonight's psalm-paraphrase selection is another familiar hymn, "I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord" and, even more than some of the looser paraphrases we've studied, it takes a tiny bit of a psalm and a general idea of that psalm as a launch pad for making what might be considered a completely different point.

The author, Timothy Dwight, was the grandson of the very famous Jonathan Edwards. He was engaged in emphasizing that the natural expression of the faith of the regenerated believer took place in the church. And his hymn, "I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord" extols the wonders of that institution and that faith expression. For comparison, Psalm 137 speaks of joyless Israel in Babylon, cut off from Jerusalem, the location of her true worship.

One specific bit of psalm language seems to have captivated Dwight and shows through in a portion of his text, all of which I have copied below:

"If I forget you, Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill.
May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem my highest joy."
Psalm 137:5-6

I love Thy kingdom, Lord,
The house of Thine abode,
The Church our blessed Redeemer saved
With His own precious blood.

I love Thy Church, O God!
Her walls before Thee stand
Dear as the apple of Thine eye,
And graven on Thy hand.

If e’er to bless Thy sons
My voice or hands deny,
These hands let useful skills forsake,
This voice in silence die.

Should I with scoffers join
Her altars to abuse?
No! Better far my tongue were dumb,
My hand its skill should lose.

For her my tears shall fall
For her my prayers ascend,
To her my cares and toils be given
Till toils and cares shall end.

Beyond my highest joy
I prize her heavenly ways,
Her sweet communion, solemn vows,
Her hymns of love and praise.

Jesus, Thou Friend divine,
Our Savior and our King,
Thy hand from every snare and foe
Shall great deliverance bring.

Sure as Thy truth shall last,
To Zion shall be given
The brightest glories earth can yield
And brighter bliss of Heaven.