Daily Psalms - Classical Psalms Every Day

Psalm 74: How Long
The sanctuary is in ruins. Someone has taken axes to the carved work — the beautiful, painstaking craftsmanship of generations — and set fire to what remained. "There is no more any prophet," the psalmist says, and the silence of heaven is almost worse than the noise of the enemy. How long? he asks, and the question hangs unanswered. But then, in the middle of his lament, he does a remarkable thing: he remembers. He remembers the Exodus — "Thou didst divide the sea by thy strength" — and older still, the creation itself: "The day is thine, the night also is thine: thou hast prepared the light and the sun." When the present is unbearable, the psalmist drags the past forward like evidence. The God who made summer and winter cannot finally be defeated by smoke and rubble. This is what grief-soaked faith looks like: not a denial of the ruin, but a fierce refusal to forget that the God of the ruin is also the God of the beginning.
00:00 Why Hast Thou Cast Us Off
01:00 Axes and Hammers in the Sanctuary
02:00 Thou Didst Divide the Sea
03:00 Forget Not the Voice of Thine Enemies

Psalm 73: Until I Went Into the Sanctuary
Asaph begins with a confession so honest it is almost embarrassing: he was jealous of the wrong people. Not of the righteous, not of the wise — of the wicked. Because the wicked, he noticed, seem to sail through life on the smoothest seas, their bodies fat, their deaths painless, their mouths running at the heavens without consequence. Meanwhile he, keeping a clean heart, was getting plagued every morning. "Verily I have cleansed my heart in vain," he nearly concludes — the most dangerous sentence a soul can speak. And then comes the turn, on a single hinge word: until. "Until I went into the sanctuary of God; then understood I their end." Nothing in the outward facts changed; what changed was the room Asaph was standing in. From the street, the wicked looked unstoppable; from the sanctuary, they were revealed to be standing on ice. The psalm ends with one of the great lines of the Psalter: "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee." He did not lose his envy by arguing with it. He lost it by walking into the presence of God and finding, there, that he already had everything worth wanting.
00:00 Truly God Is Good — But My Feet Almost Slipped
01:00 The Prosperity of the Wicked
02:00 Until I Went Into the Sanctuary
03:00 Whom Have I in Heaven But Thee

Psalm 72: The King We Keep Waiting For
David, in what is marked as his last recorded prayer, asks God to give his son Solomon the one thing a king cannot manufacture: righteous judgment toward the poor. It is a strange wish list from a dying father — not wealth, not military success, not glory — but that his son might come down "like rain upon the mown grass," refreshing what the world has cut short. The psalm then swells beyond Solomon to a reign that stretches from sea to sea, from the river to the ends of the earth, a kingdom where the needy cry out and are actually heard. And we know, of course, that Solomon did not quite fill the robe. None of David's sons did. The prayer outgrew its first addressee and kept traveling — across centuries, across empires — waiting for a King who could actually catch it. And then one day, in a carpenter's town, it did. "The prayers of David the son of Jesse are ended," the psalm says. Ended, yes — and also, finally, answered.
00:00 Give the King Thy Judgments
01:00 From Sea to Sea, to the Ends of the Earth
02:00 His Name Shall Endure Forever

Psalm 71: The Long Faithfulness
There is a particular kind of prayer that only an old person can pray, and this is one of them. The psalmist looks back across an entire life — from the womb, where God held him up; through youth, where God was already his trust; to old age, where he now stands, grey-headed, watching his strength fail. And his chief petition is not rescue but continuity: "Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth." He has spent his whole life telling people about God; now he asks to live long enough to tell one more generation. Notice the strange, touching line — "I am as a wonder unto many." He knows he looks odd: an aging man who keeps hoping, who has made God his habit and his home for seventy or eighty years. The world does not quite know what to do with a person whose trust has outlasted their teeth. But such a person is, among all the creatures God has made, perhaps the most convincing argument for God that exists.
00:00 In Thee, O Lord, Do I Trust
01:00 A Wonder Unto Many
02:00 Forsake Me Not When Grey-Headed
03:00 My Tongue Shall Talk of Thy Righteousness

Psalm 70: Make Haste
There is a kind of prayer that does not have the strength for long sentences, and this tiny psalm knows it. "Make haste, O God, to deliver me; make haste to help me, O Lord." Two words repeat all through it — make haste — the breathless petition of someone who has run out of time and diplomacy. David does not construct a theological argument; he does not compose elegant parallelisms; he simply knocks on heaven's door and asks God to open it now. And notice what he does not ask for: he does not ask to be strong, or wise, or admired. He calls himself, plainly, "poor and needy," and treats that confession as sufficient credentials. This psalm is short enough to pray with your last breath, and that may be exactly why it was written. When the soul is too tired for eloquence, the Psalter hands you this little prayer and says: here — take this. It is enough.
00:00 Make Haste, O God
00:15 Let Them Be Turned Backward
00:30 Aha, Aha
00:45 Let All Those That Seek Thee Rejoice
01:00 I Am Poor and Needy
01:15 O Lord, Make No Tarrying