The Poetry of the Psalms

Understanding Poetic Conventions

I don't know what you think about poetry. Many people either love it or hate it. Some find it moving and compelling, while others simply do not understand it at all. Some simply respond to poetry emotionally. Others appreciate the technical skill by which poets choose and arrange their words to create alternative worlds of powerful vision.

As I said, I don't know where you personally stand in relation to poetry--whether you appreciate or despise it. But, regardless of your evaluation of the form, if you are like most people, you have some sense of it--some idea of what makes it poetry and not prose. Your experience may be limited to childhood nursery rhymes and juvenile doggerel. Or you may have studied poetry broadly and deeply, in school or privately. You may even be a poet yourself. But regardless of your level of experience, knowledge, or appreciation, you probably have some understanding of the characteristics of poetry, whether you consider them good or bad, powerful or indifferent.

A poem is not a laundry list or a legal document. Nor is it a novel or a letter, although these latter may have "poetic" moments when they share some of the distinctive qualities of poetry. Part of this distinctive character of poetry we recognize intuitively. To this I will return directly. But, mostly we recognize poetry because it corresponds to a body of conventions that sets it apart--that distinguishes poetry from other forms of written (and spoken) communication. Most of these conventions we have learned, either picking them up casually through exposure to poetry or formally through a direct process of instruction.

In the western world, dominated by Euro-centric ways of thinking, three primary conventions have characterized classic poetic composition: rhyme, rhythm, and meter. Rhyme, the use of similar or identical sounds to conclude multiple lines of poetry is perhaps the more obvious poetic technique.

I never saw a purple cow.

I never hope to see one,

But, I can tell you anyhow,

I'd rather see than be one!

(by Gelett Burgess)

The arrangement of rhymes within a poem--whether on successive or more distant lines, or even within a line--enables the poet to introduce variety into the composition, to establish controlled, regular movement, or in some instances to define the nature of the poetic form and distinguish it from other similar ones. All sonnets, for example, are made up of fourteen lines of poetry of identical meter. How the lines are grouped and how the rhymes are distributed among the lines reflect formal patterns that clearly distinguish English (Shakespearean) sonnets from their Italian (Petrarchan) counterparts.

A second obvious (though less obvious than rhyme!) poetic convention characterizes classic Western poetry. The description of rhythm is an attempt to identify and regularize various combinations of stressed and unstressed syllables in poetic lines. Such concerns are actually reflective of the originally oral character of poetry, since this kind of stress and lack of stress are only operative in spoken language. All spoken language naturally employs a variety of combinations of stressed and unstressed syllables (to avoid any stress in speech is to be monotone and is considered peculiar or unnatural). Classical western poetry differs from normal speech by limiting the appearance of stress and unstress to a controlled and regular pattern.

Two frequently employed forms of poetic rhythm can serve to illustrate the point. In the first example the rhythm is made up of a series of single unstressed syllables [x], each of which is followed immediately by a single stressed syllable [/]. The result, if exaggerated slightly, produces a rather rocking rhythm, and is formally described as iambic rhythm. (Notice also the use of rhyme in alternating lines.)

x / x / x / x / x /

My true love hath my heart and I have his,

x / x / x / x / x /

By just exchange one for the other given.

x / x / x / x / x /

I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,

x / x / x / x / x /

There never was a better bargain driven.

(From a sonnet by Sir Philip Sidney)

Dactylic rhythm provides a suitable contrast to the previous example. In this second form of rhythm, a single stressed syllable is followed immediately by two unstressed syllables.

/ x x / x x / x

This is the forest primeval

x / x x / x x / x

the murmuring pines and the hemlocks

(From Evangeline by W.W. Longfellow)

Other common types of poetic rhythm include: trochaic -- a single stressed followed by a single unstressed syllable [/ x]; and anapestic -- two unstressed followed by a single stressed syllable [x x /].

Along with rhythm, meter provides the basis for a formal analysis of poetic rhythm in combination with line length. In metrical description, each occurrence of the regular rhythmic pattern is considered a foot. The name of the pattern (iambic, anapestic, dactylic, etc.) combined with the number of feet in a given line is considered the meter of that line. Our first example above is composed of single unstressed syllables followed by single stressed syllables. This is the iambic pattern. Lines one and three each contain four repetitions (feet) of this pattern and are therefore described as iambic tetrameter. Lines two and four have only three feet and represent what is called iambic trimeter.

Shakespeare's favorite meter was iambic pentameter--five repetitions of the iambic pattern described above in each line. Most of his plays employ this convention, subtly spreading the lines with their characteristic meter across the dialogue. Other poets have employed a variety of metrical combinations to achieve creative effects. Witness the opening passage of Longfellow's The Highwayman that uses varied meter to mimic the galloping gait of the highwayman's steed.

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees

The moon was a ghostly galleon, tossed upon cloudy seas,

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor

When the highwayman came riding, riding, riding,

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

We might think of these conventions as "rules" that must be obeyed to create poetry. As children we often follow them slavishly to create youthful celebrations of fancy, fantasy, and love. Only later do we come to a more mature understanding that these "rules" of poetry are in reality only our after-the-fact attempts to describe what poets do, and so to bring order to our understanding of poetry. Poets are wont to rebel against too much convention as stultifying to their artistic creativity. One important "rule" of poetic convention is that rules may be stretched and even broken to achieve a desired effect.

Modern poetry frequently departs from all these poetic conventions. Blank verse, for example, retains both rhythm and meter (iambic pentameter), but avoids rhyme altogether. Free verse, on the other hand, demonstrates no regular rhythm, rhyme, or meter, preferring to conform the poetic structure of a poem only to the expressive needs of the poet. Obvious poetic conventions are left behind along with the most recognizable landmarks of poetry. The distinction between poetry and prose becomes more difficult to observe and to articulate.

It may be difficult, but for the most part it remains possible to recognize poetry. A poem is still a poem and not a grocery list. Even without signposts it may be possible to tell what part of the country you are in. So, even without obvious rhyme, rhythm, and meter, one can distinguish a poetic composition from its more prosaic counterpart. It is at this point that those more intuitive characteristics I mentioned before become important. Let me mention just two of these that I have found helpful: imagery and compression.

Because poetry is essentially an oral medium, relying on a memorable word and a receptive ear, it is filled with vivid imagery to tease the ear and engage the visual and emotional receptors of the brain rather than the merely rational. While it is true that prose can and does employ imagery, poetry far exceeds prose in the amount of imagery it exhibits. For prose, imagery is a subsidiary tool trotted out in support of the author's primary object. With poetry, however, imagery is the dominant stock in trade to cement the poet's ideas securely in the mind and heart of the hearers.

Together with imagery compression offers a second intuitive way we distinguish poetry. I know of no better illustration of compression than to observe carefully how most modern translations of the Bible present poetry and prose on the printed page. If you turn in your Bible to, say, Genesis 6 (the beginning of the Flood narrative), you will find the page covered with type from margin to margin--perhaps in columns, but still consistently filled with type.

Now turn to Psalm 119, or Proverbs 14, or Isaiah 60. You will immediately notice considerably more white space on these pages--less type. The difference is that, while the Genesis text is prose, these last three are set in poetic lines. The lines of poetry are relatively equal in length and considerably shorter than the sentences found in the prose section. That begins to give a sense of what I mean by compression. Poets choose their words carefully. They seek just the right words to communicate their meanings with power and punch. Not just any word will do.

Prose is more expansive, achieving clarity of meaning by adding additional words and sentences to define and refine meaning. Poetry on the other hand tends to be more concise, relying on the power of words rightly chosen and arranged to communicate the desired effect. The result is compression--tightly constructed lines of similar length, with an economy of words carefully selected.

Because of compression, poetry often seems condensed and powerful. Reading a poem can be a little like eating a spoonful of honey directly from the jar. The experience can be overpowering and unsettling. Each word is important and contributes to the whole. None can be lightly exchanged without altering the effect of the whole. That is part of the purpose of poetry. The careful selection and arrangement of words can have a powerful affect on the reader--recreating a spiritual, emotional, and intellectual world in which one is challenged to see, feel, and understand differently.

But, because of compression, poetry is also less able to explain and refine its meaning than is prose. Poetry must rely on the effect of its words and images to carry meaning. As a result, poetry can sometimes be more ambiguous and difficult to follow. Because of the compression of meaning into few words, things are not "spelled out" and the concentrated words may offer more than one possibility for interpretation. That is the beauty (and sometimes the frustration) of poetry. Often, it can take as much care to understand good poetry as it does to construct it!

The Art of Hebrew Poetry

From the previous discussion it is clear that poetry operates within a set of conventions that shape it, provide boundaries for it, and ultimately distinguish it from other forms of oral and written speech--in particular prose. These conventions, whether overt and obvious (rhyme, rhythm, and meter for example) or more subtle (use of imagery or compression) provide the artistic structures that challenge the poet's task. And ultimately these conventions, along with poets' acceptance, implementation, and even resistance to them, conspire together to define the borders of the poetic act that allows us, the readers, to recognize a poem for what it is.

It would be simpler, I suppose, if all cultures adopted the same set of poetic conventions. (Simpler, but not so creatively rich and exciting!) We would then be able to transfer our poetic understanding and appreciation (or lack thereof!) across cultural and linguistic boundaries. But different cultures and different peoples--separated by place and time--step to distinctively different poetic rhythms and conventions. In each society, poetry operates by canons of conventions distinct from prose, but those conventions are not necessarily shared from society to society, culture to culture.

The Hebrew poetry of the Bible, of which the Book of Psalms is an important part, is no exception. It conforms to a group of poetic conventions that give it shape and character, and these conventions distinguish it from Hebrew prose. In some of its more subtle characteristics (use of imagery, compression), Hebrew poetry has much in common with universal poetic expression. Even some of its more specific stylistic features (to be discussed below) find counterparts in the poetry of other cultures. But by and large, most of the explicit conventions of western poetry we have discussed above are missing in Hebrew poetry.

Rhyme. For one instance, Hebrew poetry shows no clear evidence of a purposeful use of rhyme. Occasional occurrences of apparent rhyme are normally the result of parallel structures employing similar verbal forms with the same inflective endings. Such rhymes are the result of grammar and happenstance, not the choice of the author to produce rhyme combinations. Even such occurrences are infrequent.

Meter. While certainly rhythmical, Hebrew poetry has no generally recognized or persuasively demonstrated system of meter. It is generally agreed that poetry exercised certain limitations on the length of lines. Thus it is possible to observe a relative balance between poetic lines. The use of ballast components to compensate for ellipses in parallel lines is another indication that poetic lines conformed to similar expectations of length. Having admitted this, however, it remains unclear precisely what factors are at work in determining line length. And practically no attention has been paid to describing regular patterns of rhythm analogous to our trochaic, anapestic, dactylic, iambic forms.

Of the numerous attempts made to describe and delineate such a metrical system for Hebrew poetry, two deserve particular notice.

STRESSED SYLLABLES. The earlier of the two systems, probably remains as the more persuasive. Here meter is related to the number of stressed syllables in each poetic line. In spoken communication, almost every word bears some stress in pronunciation. The stressed syllable system makes a distinction between word stress (the stress placed on individual words when spoken singly) and tone stress (the stress placed on groups of words combined together in rapid speech or especially in phrases encountered in singing). Ancient oral poetry was very akin to song, and probably much psalmic poetry was intended to be performed with music. Note the combination of words and syllables into phrases in the following examples. In each, phrases are produced composed of two or more independent words that share a single stress in rapid speech. In the first passage, ’et-ha-’a-dam combines the sign of the definite direct object ’et and the noun ’adam. In the next example, lo’-ha-lak, lo’-’a-mad, and lo’-ya-shab are all combinations of the negative lo’ and a Perfect verb form.

vay-yi-ba-ra’	’e-lo-him	’et-ha-’a-dam	be-sal-mo
be-se-lem	’e-lo-him	ba-ra’	’o-to
za-kar u-ne-qe-va		ba-ra’	’o-tam
		Genesis 1:26-28

’ash-re	ha-’ish	’a-sher
lo’-ha-lak	be-‘a-sat	re-sha-‘im
u-be-de-rek	hat-ta-’im	lo’-‘a-mad
u-be-mo-shab	le-sim	lo’-ya-shab
	Psalm 1:1

The phrases grouped together with hyphens (-) represent units that would receive a single stress in singing or rapid speech. Such stress on phrases is called tone stress.

This first theory of Hebrew meter suggests that lines of poetry demonstrate regular patterns of tone stress in their lines. In the examples preceding, the verse from Genesis exhibits four tone stresses per line. The number of words in each line, and therefore the number of word stresses would vary from line to line, but the tone stress remains fixed. The same is true of the second example from Psalm 1, only here the number of tone stresses per line is three rather than four.

The system is somewhat akin to our own concept of musical "time" with a number of beats per musical passage. 3/4 time is distinctively different from 4/4 time as you can tell from singing Away in a Manger (3/4) and then Jingle Bells (4/4). Clearly the beats accord with musical phrasing--not with individual word stress.

The discussion makes the system sound clear and convincing. I wish it were only so simple. The examples above were chosen to illustrate the discussion. In the real world of Hebrew poetry, it is often difficult, if not impossible to determine a continuing pattern of tone stress. Some attribute this to textual corruption in transmission and seek to restore the pattern by textual emendation. It is, however, problematic in my opinion to prove a theory by emending the text when it does not correspond to ones expectations. It has too often happened that difficult texts are changed "because of the meter," as the critical notes in BHS frequently demonstrate. Elsewhere it may be that certain elements were intended to stand outside the meter of a poem, or that we simply have got the lines or word combinations wrong.

The description of meter based on tone stress does seem to work sometimes. But it cannot be consistently demonstrated in all cases. Thus it remains a tantalizing possibility. Perhaps the most persuasive assessment of the findings is that Hebrew poetry does seem to preserve relative balance in stressed meaning units grouped as phrases. This might reduce the need for perfection in poetic description--perfection that probably exceeds our ability to grasp given the long history of transmission of the biblical text and the ancient silence on Hebrew poetic technique.

Having said this, it is clear that relative similarity of line length is present in most Hebrew poetry. It is also clear that intentional patterns involving different line length can be observed and are in some instances significant. One of the clearest of these is the "limping meter" associated with the biblical laments. This form is composed of a three- or four-stress line followed immediately by a line with only two stresses.

ya-she-ba ba-dad ha-ir-rab-ba-ti-am

ha-ye-ta ke-al-ma-na

rab-ba-ti ba-go-yim sa-ra-ti-bam-me-di-not

ha-ye-ta le-mas

Lamentations 1:1

It is thought this rather hobbling rhythm mimicked or even accompanied a limping dance that visibly demonstrated the grieving and suffering of the lamenters.

SYLLABLE COUNTING. The second theory of meter in Hebrew poetry revolves around counting the number of syllables in poetic lines. The idea is that poets created lines containing identical numbers of syllables or at least some regular and recognizable pattern of syllables. This system developed as an alternative to the earlier theory of word stress, and in response to that system's failure to explain consistently all features of biblical poetry.

It is obvious that syllable counting is related to relative balance of line length, but seeks to bring greater precision to its description. Several significant difficulties face the proponents of this view.

First, since Hebrew was originally written without indications of vowels, the syllabic structure of this ancient language has always had a certain degree of ambiguity. Add to this the fact that the consonantal text reflects several different dialects of Hebrew across a period of a thousand years or more and the complexity of the issue becomes immense.

Second, the vocalic system represented in our current Hebrew text was not fully developed until the 6th or 7th century A.D. There are three competing systems of vocalization known (the Tiberian system that is generally employed, and the Babylonian and Palestinian systems). These alternate attempts to fix pronunciation demonstrate some significant differences in their interpretation of specific texts.

These vocalic systems represent the way these biblical texts were pronounced in the 6th century A.D. and it is clear that pronounciation only imperfectly fits the consonantal text at many points. As a result, attempts to describe the original syllabic structure of poetic texts almost always involves hypothetical reconstruction based on some theory as to how Hebrew was pronounced at the date when the text in question was assumed to have been produced.

Such hypothetical reconstruction is exceedingly complex, and offers too much opportunity for manipulation of the text to support ones theory of syllable counting. This can lead to circular reasoning where the system is "proved" by the emendation of texts because of the demands of the system. For this reason there has been much disagreement, even among proponents of the method, and the theory lacks consistent ability to persuade.

CONCLUSIONS. What these two attempts to describe the nature of Hebrew poetic meter do demonstrate is the existence of relative balance in poetic line length. Both systems are able to find supportive examples because there does appear to be some limitation to the length of lines. Lines do not simply run on for ever, but stay within relative bounds. Beyond this, neither system has yet to provide consistent explanation of all existing texts. While the system based on tone stress seems more persuasive in my opinion, we may have to accept the fact that, due to the historical distance and theoretical ambiguity that stand between us and the text, a full understanding of the ins and outs of Hebrew meter may continue to elude our grasp.

Techniques of Hebrew Poetry

Without such familiar poetic features as rhyme and meter, Hebrew poetry can often strike us as strange and uncomfortable. As we enter the world of the psalms, therefore, we may often feel we have taken a wrong turn, and are moving through alien terrain where all the familiar poetic signposts have been removed. So, to understand and appreciate the poetry of the biblical psalms we will need to construct a new map of the land--we will need to become familiar with a new set of conventions that reflect the world of the psalms in particular, and Hebrew poetry in general.

Parallelism

It has long been recognized that the most distinctive characteristic of Hebrew poetry is to be found in the frequent linking of successive lines of poetry in a manner that emphasizes grammatical, structural, and thematic similarities between them. This relationship between lines has been traditionally called parallelism. The sense of this description is that, after the statement of an initial line, a second (and sometimes a third) line is generated that shares some obvious grammatical-structural similarities with the first, and yet the second redirects the focus of the first by the use of alternate words and expressions. The close grammatical-structural similarity that exists between lines provides continuity that emphasizes the parallel character of the two lines, while the distinctive phraseology of each phrase lifts the phenomenon beyond mere repetition, and offers the opportunity for expansion or advancement on the original line's meaning.

At least from the time of Robert Lowth's De sacra poesi Hebraeorum. . . (1753), a relatively standard terminology has been employed to describe the variations of parallelism within Hebrew poetry. It is generally agreed today that these terms only inadequately describe the categories under consideration, and in some cases are even misleading. Since they are nevertheless so well entrenched in the discipline, I will continue to employ them here while remarking when necessary on their inadequate or misleading character and providing a thorough description of the various forms of parallelism.

Synonymous Parallelism (Affirming)

This first of the traditional forms of parallelism comes closest to repetition or restatement. In this case, the second line restates the first in a similar or positive fashion, while employing distinctive phraseology. This can approach almost exact repetition in some instances.

So God created the adam in his image

In the image of God he created him.

Genesis 1:27

In this example from Genesis, except for the rearrangement of parallel elements, the second line restates the first with very little advance or addition. Perhaps the phrase "in the image of God" clarifies the more ambiguous "in his image" of the first line, but the over all effect of this arrangement is repetition for emphasis rather than advancement or refinement of thought.

In other cases the positive parallel of elements between lines is preserved, but the terminology employed in each is more distinctive.

Wash away all my iniquity

and cleanse me from my sin.

Psalm 51:2

Here there is close and positive structural parallel between the two lines; similar imperative verbs (Wash away vs. Cleanse me) and similar noun constructions (my iniquity vs. my sin). There is also positive parallel in the meaning of these two lines; Washing away my iniquity is much the same as cleansing me from my sin. However, the second line does not simply restate the meaning of the first, but advances or expands it by adding new nuances to the thought world created.

Sometimes the advancement offered by the second (or third) line can be quite unexpected and significant. If we return to our earlier example from Genesis 1:27, we will discover a third line adds another synonymous parallelism to the first two.

So God created the adam in his image;

In the image of God he created him;

Male and female he created them.

By comparison of the related structural elements in these lines (God created/he created/he created; the adam/him/them; in his image/in the image of God/male and female), we are led to conclude that the new phrase in the third line‹male and female‹is intended to expand (in an unexpected way) our understanding of what it means to be created in God's image. This is clearly not simple repetition, but an important advancement in the thinking of the poet!

So, in synonymous parallelism, a second or third line of poetry restates a preceding line in a positive fashion that maintains continuity with the structure and meaning of the first, while in subtle (or not so subtle) ways expanding and advancing the thought begun there through the introduction of alternate expressions into the growing thoughtworld created by the combination. Recognition and appreciation of the art and subtlety of this form of poetic expression will require additional study and exposure. A few examples are provided below to illustrate the variety of synonymous constructions encountered in the Hebrew Bible.

Truly you set them in slippery places;

you make them fall to ruin

Psalm 73:18

Their mischief returns upon their own heads,

and on their own heads their violence descends

Psalm 7:16

my hand shall always remain with him;

my arm also shall strengthen him

Psalm 89:21

I will not violate my covenant,

or alter the word that went forth from my lips

Psalm 89:34

like those forsaken among the dead,

like the slain that lie in the grave

Psalm 88:5

Antithetical Parallelism (Opposing)

A second form of parallelism in Hebrew poetry is clearly distinguished from the first. In this construction, the second line maintains clear continuity with the structure and meaning of the first, but relates to it in a negative rather than a positive fashion. A few examples should bring clarity to this description.

A wise son causes a father to rejoice

A foolish son is a pain to his mother.

Proverbs 10:1

The similarity of structure and meaning is obvious: A certain type of son has a particular effect on a parent. At this level, the parallel between lines is almost exact. But, rather than the positive restatement characteristic of synonymous parallelism, these lines demonstrate a decidedly negative or contrasting relationship. The Wise son and resultant joy of relationship in line one is contrasted with the Foolish son and the consequent pain in the second line.

The contrasting character of antithetical parallelism has great potential for instruction because it presents in brief compass both a positive example and a negative caution that point the student to the more prosperous of two paths (wisdom and folly; righteousness and wickedness) that the biblical sages recognize as the basic opportunities of life. As a result of this didactic potential, antithetical parallelism is frequently found throughout the biblical wisdom literature‹especially in the Book of Proverbs, where it appears as the most common feature of chapters 10-29.

He who keeps the commandment keeps his life

he who despises the word will die

Proverbs 19:16

The heart of the sage is in the house of mourning

but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth

Ecclesiastes 7:4

If he withholds the waters, they dry up;

if he sends them out, they overwhelm the land

Job 12:15

He does not keep the wicked alive,

but gives the afflicted their right

Job 36:6

The form is not limited to the wisdom literature, however, but appears regularly in the psalms and other Hebrew poetry as well. Here are a few more examples to illustrate the varied nature of antithetical parallelism.

YHWH watches over the sojourners,

he upholds the widow and the fatherless;

but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.

Psalm 146:9

The first two lines of this example represent synonymous parallelism , and expand on the theme of God's care for and protection of the helpless in society (watches/upholds; sojourners/widow and fatherless). In a parallel, but antithetical manner the third line (brings to ruin) introduces the contrasting fate of the wicked at the hand of a God concerned with justice.

The wicked borrows, and cannot pay back,

but the righteous is generous and gives;

for those blessed by YHWH shall possess the land,

but those cursed by him shall be cut off.

Psalm 37:21

Two sets of antithetically parallel lines appear within this single verse. In the first set the wicked and righteous clearly oppose each other as do their respective relationship to finances (borrowing without repayment vs. generous giving). In the second set, the poet contrasts the futures of those who are blessed or cursed by YHWH. The rather harsh contrast introduced by the use of the parallel phrase "cut off" (normally implying death!) adds a new dimension to the blessing of the land that Israel experienced and ultimately lost in the Exile. Loss of the land is here understood to represent not merely geographical dislocation, but physical and, even more importantly, spiritual death!

Here now are a few additional examples from the psalms.

They [who trust in chariotry] will collapse and fall;

but we shall rise and stand upright.

Psalm 20:8

The righteous shall be preserved for ever,

but [even] the children of the wicked shall be cut off

Psalm 37:28

God knows the way of the righteous

but the way of the wicked will perish

Psalm 1:6

O let the evil of the wicked come to an end,

but establish thou the righteous

Psalm 7:9

In the morning it [grass] flourishes and is renewed;

in the evening it fades and withers

Psalm 90:6

You were a forgiving God to them

but [you were] an avenger of their wrongdoings

Psalm 99:8

Synthetical Parallelism (Advancing)

The third form of parallelism traditionally recognized is really not parallel at all. In this type, the second line has lost all semblance of similarity of structure, syntax, or meaning with the preceding line, and unabashedly charges ahead advancing and furthering the poet's thought without regard for structural similarity or comparable meaning. The name applied‹synthetical parallelism‹is, therefore, doubly misleading. There is no more parallel here than there is synthesis. The philosophical term synthesis that is pressed into thankless service here, assumes a preceding thesis statement with a countering antithesis (not to be confused with antithetical parallelism!) which then interact to create a new, and better response or synthesis.

It has long been recognized that this terminology in relation to Hebrew poetry is confusing at best and altogether misleading at worst. Since the term is entrenched in usage, however, we will continue to use it, but need to be careful to define the form it describes more precisely.

In synthetical parallelism, after an initial line, a second (or third or, in some cases, even more!) line continues the thought, theme, or narrative of the poem without any obvious concern to maintain grammatical, structural, or thematic similarity to the initial line. The poem simply continues to develop its theme, while parallelism fades from view. This lack of parallel structure may be limited to a single set of poetic lines, or may be more extensive in nature; affecting several verses, or even whole compositions. Again, let's consider several examples to get a sense of the varied appearance of synthetical parallelism.

Our God is in the heavens;

He does whatever he pleases.

Their idols are silver and gold,

The work of men's hands.

Psalm 115:3-4

In each of these couplets, the second line builds on the preceding line without being parallel to it grammatically, structurally, or thematically. The first couplet, goes on to describe the exalted freedom of the God who resides in the heavens—a freedom that is certainly related to his exalted position, and perhaps even derived from it, but not expressed in any sense of parallelism.

The second couplet begins by describing the inanimate stuff (albeit rich) from which idols are constructed and continues in the second line to drive home their inferiority to the free God of the heavens, by emphasizing the idols' creation by human hands. Again, there is relationship, connection, and continuity between one line and the next, but no clear, or even subtle, parallelism.

You have put more joy in my heart

than they have when their grain and wine abound.

In peace I will both lie down and sleep;

for you alone, YHWH, make me dwell in safety.

Psalm 4:7-8

Once again the second line of the first couplet simply carries the thought begun in the first on to its proper conclusion emphasizing the great joy the psalmist experiences in relation to YHWH in contrast to those who find their joy in the abundant grain and wine he provides. The next couplet employs the second line to describe the basis of the psalmist's security in YHWH that makes it possible to lie down and sleep peacefully, even in the face of personal attack and distress described earlier in this psalm.

Synthetical parallelism, so called, clearly offers a poet maximum flexibility in the creation of lines that develop, direct, and advance the movement of a poem. Freed from the relative constraints of the demands of parallel structure, the poet can introduce more complex and extended argumentation that goes beyond the more restrictive, two-line format characteristic of parallelism. As a consequence of this freedom, compositions can become more flowing, less fragmented, more unified (and in some instances longer!). For this reason alone, synthetical parallelism is a frequent player in Hebrew poetry. Some psalms are even primarily composed of synthetical lines with little or no attention to parallelism at all. Take a look at Psalms 110 and 111 in this regard. Neither makes much use of parallel forms. The interior dialogue sections of the Book of Job, and parts of Ecclesiastes owe much of their subtly and complexity to their ability to advance, expand, and sustain the discussion through the frequent use of synthetical parallelism.

So, in synthetical parallelism, Hebrew poets broke with the strictures of similarity with the preceding line and experienced their greatest freedom to advance, direct, redirect, and structure the thought of a poem. How differently poets might proceed from the same starting line is illustrated in the examples below.

O sing to YHWH a new song;

sing to YHWH, all the earth.

Psalm 96:1

O sing to YHWH a new song;

for he has done marvelous things!

Psalm 98:1

O sing to YHWH a new song;

his praises in the assembly of the faithful.

Psalm 149:1

Here, the same initial line gives rise to three distinctively different treatments. The first (96:1) offers a variation on the synonymous form, by expanding the second line (all the earth) to compensate for the omission of an element (a new song) from the first. This expansion to replace an ellipsis is sometimes referred to as a ballast line or element.

The third set of couplets is another example of ellipsis with compensation in the second line. Here, however, it is the lead phrase (Sing to YHWH) that is omitted in the second line. It is perhaps more correct to say that this phrase is understood (by both poet and reader) to govern both lines. As a result of this ellipsis, the remaining phrase (his praises in the assembly of the faithful) is greatly expanded over its parallel (a new song) while the lines together remain synonymous in relationship. (The expansion preserves the relative balance in length between the two lines of the couplet‹an indication that, while we know no universally accepted system of meter in Hebrew poetry, relative line-length was still a matter of sufficient significance as to require some compensation in this circumstance.)

In the middle example (98:1), the initial line is continued synthetically in the second. The poet goes beyond the opening invocation to praise YHWH with a justification of YHWH's praiseworthiness (for he has done marvelous things!). These very different directions from the same starting point demonstrate just how much flexibility the Hebrew poetic system afforded creative poets seeking new and unique forms of expression. Here is another, group of similar examples.

Turn to me and be gracious to me;

give your strength to your servant,

and save the son of your hand maid.

Psalm 86:16

Turn to me and be gracious to me;

for I am lonely and afflicted.

Psalm 25:16

Turn to me and be gracious to me:

as is your wont to those who love your name.

Psalm 119:132

Once again, the same opening line generates three distinctive responses. In the first (86:16), the poet continues with two lines that are synonymously related to each other, but not to the first line. The synonymous couplet explores how the psalmist desires God to turn and be gracious (by strengthening and saving). In the second example (25:16), the successive line explains why the psalmist needs God to return (for I am lonely and afflicted), while the focus of the third passage (119:132) is the divine character that undergirds the poet's hope for a gracious divine response. These examples are illustrative of the variety of expansions and motives for expansion that characterize synthetical parallelism.

Climactic Parallelism

While this concludes our discussion of the traditionally recognized forms of parallelism, there is one additional Hebrew poetic form that has received attention of late under the rubric of parallel structure. Again, there is some discussion whether climactic parallelism, as this feature has been called, is an altogether happy designation. As will be clear from the examples that follow, there is continuity of thought and syntax between the related lines. In fact, at least part of the initial line is repeated verbatim in successive ones. The question in my mind, however, is whether the few examples we have of this form constitute an independent type of parallelism, or whether they rather illustrate an expansion and adaptation of the more recognized forms. Let's look at two examples.

Ascribe to YHWH, O heavenly beings,

Ascribe to YHWH glory and strength,

Ascribe to YHWH the glory of his name;

Worship YHWH in holy array.

Psalm 29:1-2

In this first passage, the interrelation of the lines is obvious. The three-fold repetition of the opening imperative phrase (Ascribe to YHWH) binds the first three lines together, while the fourth and final line offers a summation of the whole complex. Lines two and three form together a clear example of synonymous parallelism, with glory of his name in line three providing expansion and subtle redirection of the theme introduced by glory and strength in line two. It is not simply glory and strength that is at issue here, but the glory and strength that proceed from the divine name (and thus the essential character and essence) of YHWH.

It is only the placement of the first line with its identical phrase that lifts this composition to a new level of poetic intensity. The completion of the initial phrase is now postponed by the intrusion of the heavenly beings called to acknowledge and exalt the name of YHWH. This delay intensifies the interest of the hearer/reader, who must wait for the resolution until the end of the next line. The intensity is heightened even further by the thrice repeated command to Ascribe to YHWH. . . .

A similar use of triple repetition to intensify the effect of poetic lines is found in our next example.

The floods have lifted up, O YHWH,

The floods have lifted up their voice,

The floods lift up their roaring.

Psalm 93:3-4

Here the floods most likely represent the chaotic waters subdued by YHWH at creation (associated in more general ancient near eastern mythology with precreation deities). These powerful waters, that represent a potent threat to the very human poet and reader, rise up in tumult that appears to endanger the very fabric of the orderly creation established by God‹the creation upon which the very existence of humans depends. Perhaps the scene is intended to reflect the Flood narrative of Genesis 6-9, where the chaotic waters restricted by YHWH at creation are unleashed once more and threaten to dissolve creation once and for all.

Once again, lines two and three are synonymously parallel, with line three intensifying the growing effect of line two by substituting the powerfully descriptive roaring for the more pallid voice. As in the previous example, line one provides additional intensification&emdash;delaying the completion of the initial phrase (The floods lift up. . .) by inserting the vocative address to YHWH. The result is a poetic depiction of the gradual ascent of the powerful clamor made by the tumultuous waters in their opposition to God.

You may now understand why I questioned at the outset whether these examples illustrate an independent form of parallelism. There are so few examples offered, and those examples exhibit strong characteristics of synonymous parallelism (lines two and three in the examples above) and synthetical parallelism (the relation of the first line to the following two). It seems best, in my estimation, to view climactic parallelism as a particularly artful adaptation of traditional forms of parallelism for purposes of intensification.

Summary

For the purposes of our general discussion, then, the three traditionally recognized forms of parallelism (synonymous, antithetical, and synthetical) constitute the basic literary arsenal of the ancient Hebrew poet, and provide the peculiar flavor that makes this poetry distinctive. Our discussion has for the most part remained rudimentary, and there remains much for the student of Hebrew poetry to learn through direct experience and observation. Only through such personal exploration can one gain a more complete sense of the subtle, nuanced variations of form that demonstrate biblical poets' skill and mastery in pursuing their craft. Before we leave entirely the discussion of Hebrew poetry, there are, however, several other stylistic conventions or techniques that will enhance our appreciation and understanding of the psalms.

Other Stylistic Features

The Hebrew poets of the Bible did not rely only on the convention of parallelism to bear the weight of their poetic expression. They had at their disposal the broad range of literary and stylistic techniques known to poets throughout the ages. Metaphor, simile, personification, onomatopoeia, and more offered each biblical poet ample opportunity to shape and texture individual compositions personally.

But, besides these more general tools of the literary trade, biblical psalms give evidence of a number of more specific stylistic features that, while not unique to Hebrew poetry, nevertheless add dimension and breadth to our understanding of it. In what follows, I will describe just five of the more important of these stylistic features.

WORD PAIRS

General Word Pairs. The phenomenon of parallelism in Hebrew poetry highlights the close relationship that can exist between parallel words and phrases in the related lines. As we have seen in the earlier discussion, a significant word in one line can be augmented or expanded by its parallel in the next. In some instances this expansion may represent mere stylistic variation. But on most occasions the second word adds significant semantic or theological dimension to the first. This is particularly clear in the first example of synonymous parallelism discussed above (pages 10-11) and taken from Genesis 1:28f. The phrase in line one (in his image) is only slightly varied in line two (in the image of God); but is significantly expanded both semantically and theologically in line three by the parallel phrase (male and female).

The very important theological advancement accomplished in these lines is illustrative of the kind of use that can be made of parallelism. James Kugel is certainly right when he stresses the "seconding" effect of parallel lines: "A and even more B." The sum of the two parts is always more, in his opinion, than mere repetition. One must always take into consideration this expansive nature of parallelism in interpreting couplets. In most instances the poet is building a semantic context in which the subtle nuances of two or more words brought together in parallelism expand the possibilities for understanding.

The same expansion can also be subtly understood in antithetical parallelism. Here the negative parallel can once again add nuance to our understanding of the original word. Take for example the concluding verses of Psalm 1:

For God knows the way of the righteous,

But the way of the wicked shall perish.

Psalm 1:6

The initial line leaves open what it might mean for the path of the righteous to be known by God. But the negative parallel in the following line makes it clear that God's knowing is a source of protection and preservation not experienced by the wicked. Thus, the semantic world in which the ideas of the poet operate are significantly expanded by juxtaposing these two phrases and their nuances. These two examples can be multiplied many fold and demonstrate just how important it is for an interpreter to recognize that more than repetition is at work behind the words chosen by a poet in parallelism. It is immensely important for full understanding to explore the expansive semantic thoughtworld thus created.

Traditional Word Pairs. The choice of word pairs for parallelism can sometimes become a matter of fixed, traditional association. Through long usage, certain words become connected as expected parallels balancing their respective lines. Wisdom is normally balanced by folly. The wicked are most often paralleled by the righteous. Heaven is most often linked with earth. Man [Hebrew 'adam] finds its reflex in many instances in Son of Man [ben 'adam]. Many other commonly employed word pairs have been recognized as operative in Hebrew poetry. (Robert Culley, XXXXX; see the comments of Alter, p. 28.)

Traditional word pairs such as these can even play a role in textual criticism, as attempts to restore the fragmentary Canaanite religious texts from Ugarit (Ras Shamra) demonstrate. These texts, written in an alphabetic cuneiform script on clay tablets, were discovered in the late 1920s in excavations at a site on the coast of northern Syria. Among other documents, these texts include poetic religious documents from the third millennium B.C. in a language closely resembling ancient Hebrew. The poetry employed in these ancient texts also employs parallel lines and exhibits extensive use of traditional word pairs.

When a clay tablet has been damaged so that parts of lines are no longer legible, it is often possible to make a confident reconstruction based on the plausible anticipation of fixed word pairs. Occasionally such a scholarly conjecture has been proven correct by the discovery of additional copies of the text where the lines in question are still extant, or by comparing repeated passages elsewhere in the same tablet. It has now become common practice for biblical text critics to suggest emendation of incoherent or difficult poetic passages on the basis of expected completion of fixed pairs.

The frequent appearance of so many fixed pairs in parallel lines ought perhaps caution against making too much of the possibilities for theological expansion in such cases. Is the poet's choice of terms driven by a desire to nuance the literary context? Or is it determined by the expectations of the fixed word pair? Such caution is probably appropriate. However, it must be mentioned that the use of words as fixed pairs does not prohibit their use singly in other contexts, or even in connection to other words in parallel lines. Man ['adam] is not always paralleled by Son of Man [ben 'adam]. Nor is wicked inexorably connected to righteous. Fixed pairs represent only one possible word choice that Hebrew poets could employ to good effect.

MERISM

A specialized use of some fixed word pairs is the coupling of words describing opposites or extremes to refer inclusively to all that lies between. This is known technically as merism or merismus. Some obvious examples include great and small; rich and poor, far and near. Such merisms often appear as fixed word pairs in parallel lines of Hebrew poetry.

It can be helpful to understand the more inclusive intent that lies behind a merism.

You will not fear the terror of the night,

nor the arrow that flies by day.

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.

Psalm 91:5-6

The intent of these verses and their obvious merisms is not to note those times of the day when those who trust in YHWH should be unafraid‹suggesting by implication that there are other times when fear is entirely appropriate. The clear affirmation of the psalmist is rather that there is never anytime that YHWH fails to protect those who fear him. The use of merismus brings this point home in a particularly artistic and forceful manner.

Merismus also plays a significant role in these verses from Psalm 103.

For as the heavens are high above the earth,

so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;

As far as the east is from the west,

so far does he remove our transgressions from us.

The tension produced and maintained by heaven and earth; east and west, magnify the absolute character of God's redemptive forgiveness. Heaven and earth mark the boundaries of God's creative work. Elsewhere together they represent all that God has made. Coupled with east and west, they suggest that God in his mercy has removed our transgressions and their consequences to the furthest distances of the creation.

CHIASM

Closely related to parallelism and drawing often on the connecting links between word pairs is the frequent use of chiastic structure in Hebrew poetry. For our purposes, chiasm is a poetic technique in which a set of sentence elements are introduced in a particular order in one line, while the parallel elements are stated in reverse order in the succeeding line. Consequently, if beginning and ending elements in line one were to be connected by straight lines to their parallel elements in line two, a large letter -X- would result.

So-God-created the-adam in-his-image

in-the-image-of-God he-created him

Since in the Greek language the letter Chi took the form of an -X-, this poetic technique took the descriptive name chiasm.

Because chiasm is dependent on word order in the original language (in this case Hebrew), discovering this kind of structure in successive lines of translated poetry is sometimes problematic since the order and arrangement of words and phrases can often be modified in the translation process. One must exercise care, therefore, to make certain that a chiasm apparent in the translated text actually reflects a chiasm present in the original language. In the case above, the chiasm is original as the transliterated Hebrew of the passage demonstrates.

wayyibra-'elohim 'et ha-a'dam besalmo

beselem-'elohim bara' 'oto

A particularly impressive chiasm stretching across three lines is found in Psalm 90:1-2.

0 My Lord,

A a refuge you have been for us

B in each and every age

C before mountains were birthed;

C' and [before] you formed earth and heaven

B' from everlasting to everlasting,

A' you are God.

Here the complexity and length of the form make it difficult to exhibit the chiastic schema in the traditional parallel format. An alternate style employed to demonstrate chiasm extending over several lines is to indicate parallel elements by means of balanced indentation, and by labeling related elements A and A', B and B' . . . and so on.

In this particular instance, the opening vocative "O my Lord" stands outside the chiastic structure and is thus labeled -0- since it has no balancing reflex. The rest of the chiasm appears as a gradual indentation to the right (A, B, C) and then a return to the left (C', B', A'). The chiastic nature of this construction is obscured by the presentation, but becomes more apparent when the labels are arranged in the traditional format.

A B C

C' B' A'

It is generally accepted that chiasm was not employed to structure individual elements only within successive lines of poetry, but can be extended to larger segments, and even whole compositions‹and even longer narratives. In the latter case consider Genesis 3 where the initial order in which important characters are introduced (Serpent‹Woman‹Man) are reversed when God confronts their disobedience (Man‹Woman‹Serpent), and reversed again in God's pronouncement of consequences (Serpent‹Woman‹Man).

Where a whole composition (and not just parallel lines) is considered chiastically arranged, parallels are most often deduced not at the level of balanced words or phrases, but often on the basis of balanced meanings expressed by related lines. This can sometimes lead to strained and forced connections that ultimately fail to convince. The interpreter is on surer ground when it can be demonstrated that related meaning is paralleled by related words/phrases and sentence structure. For numerous serious explications of the structure of individual psalms including extensive chiasms, see the stimulating and insightful work of Pierre Auffret, XXXX. Chiasm has also been the object of intensive investigation by A. Ceresko, XXXX.

INCLUSIO

Repetition is a particularly common feature of oral poetry. It aids the memory, recalls previous detail, enhances anticipation where the composition is familiar, and can serve to drive home the essential point of the composition. I have alluded previously to the appearance of repeated passages in Ugaritic poetry, and how these repetitions can offer opportunity to emend broken passages. One particularly clear case of triple repetition occurs in the 'Aqhat Epic, when messengers are instructed in the communication they are to deliver to a distant king, carry out their embassy verbatim, and then return to report the successful completion of their task. ['Aqhat, xxx; xxx; xxx].

Among the various forms of repetition employed in Hebrew poetry, one of the most artful and striking is the inclusio, where identical or nearly identical phrases frame the beginning and ending of a composition. The effect is to create a sort of literary envelope marking the extreme boundaries of a poem. Perhaps the most beautiful example of the form from the biblical Psalter is found in Psalm 8.

O YHWH, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

O YHWH, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

Psalm 8:1 &9

The inclusio sets the context within which the thrust of the poem is played out. The awesome power and majesty of YHWH provides the framework against which human insignificance is scrutinized. The stark contrast between divine magnificence and human poverty provides an almost dumbfounded recognition of the exalted honor received by the gracious election of God. But everywhere the focus is on the God who gives, not the human who receives. And the inclusio clarifies this theme both before and behind.

Other inclusios are found in psalms 103 and 104 where the phrase "Bless YHWH, O my soul!" both begins and ends each psalm; and in psalm 118, the operative phrase is "O give thanks to YHWH, for he is good; his steadfast love endures for ever!" In addition, several of the halleluyah psalms begin and end with this characteristic call to praise (106; 113; 135; 146-150).

So, inclusios encapsulate a psalm, emphasizing the dominant theme that is expected to remain. The reader (or hearer) is led back to the beginning at the end, and all encountered between must be understood in the light of this twin witness.

REPEATED REFRAINS

A second form of repetition that appears prominently in some psalms is the use of a repeated refrain. In this technique, a line or series of lines is repeated almost verbatim at intervals throughout the poem. The result is somewhat akin to the chorus alternating with the verses of a hymn or ballad. A straightforward example of the repeated refrain is found in Psalm 49, where the verbatim refrain "Man cannot abide in his pomp, he is like the beasts that perish" appears at the mid-point (verse 12) and conclusion (verse 20) of this psalm.

Refrains punctuate their compositions and break the flow of the poetry. They therefore provide an obvious means of structuring compositions into smaller components. In Psalm 49, after an introductory preface (verses 1-4), the remainder of the psalm is divided into two equally weighted components of eight verses each (5-12 and 13-20). The repeated refrain serves to drive home the poet's pessimistic evaluation of human self-reliance, since humans and animals alike perish regardless of their wealth or status. As a result, the wise will rely wholly on YHWH who can ransom their souls from sheol. Like the inclusio, therefore, refrains can serve to emphasize (repeatedly) the key point or focus of a psalm.

A more complicated refrain is featured in Psalm 107. Once again this refrain serves to structure the psalm into smaller components. The introductory verses (1-3) calls those whom YHWH has redeemed and gathered in from where they have been scattered throughout the world to sing praises for YHWH's enduring goodness and steadfast love. The body of the poem is then structured into a series of vignettes illustrating how groups of these scattered peoples met trouble on their way, cried out to YHWH, and experienced redemption.

The refrains that conclude these sections (verses 6+8; 13+15; 19+21; 28+31) contain sections that are verbatim repetitions. Then each is subtly adapted to its particular section by the addition of phrases reflecting the characteristic experience of that group of witnesses.

Then they cried to YHWH in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress;

he brought them out of the darkness and gloom,

and broke their bonds asunder.

Let them thank YHWH for his steadfast love,

for his wonderful works to the sons of men!

For he shatters the doors of bronze,

and cuts in two the bars of iron.

Psalm 107:13-16

The italicized portions mark the variations directed to the experience of the first group of witnesses. Compare now the second refrain.

Then they cried to YHWH in their trouble,

and he delivered them from their distress;

he sent forth his word and healed them,

and delivered them from destruction

Let them thank YHWH for his steadfast love,

for his wonderful works to the sons of men!

And let them offer sacrifices of thanksgiving,

and tell of his deeds in songs of joy!

Psalm 107:19-22

Another example of a refrain is found in Psalm 42+43, where the appearance of the repeated phrases "Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God" (42:5, 11; 43:5) has led to the recognition that these two psalms probably represent an originally unified composition.

The most extreme demonstration of repetition in the Psalter occurs in Psalm 136, where each half verse is followed by the fixed response "for his steadfast love endures forever." Without these repeated refrains, the psalm presents a straightforward narrative of God's history with his people Israel, including his creative acts (verses 1-9) and his powerful protection against the enemies of his people (verses 10-26). The constant refrain suggests the liturgical use of this composition in antiphonal performance in worship, and may imply that other repeated refrains likewise provided opportunities for the congregation (or choir) to add their affirmation to the poet's declarations in the body of these psalms.

Elsewhere in the Psalter, psalms with repeated refrains are found concentrated in the second book (42+43; 46; 49; 56; 57; 59; 62; 67), with only a single example each in the third (80) and fourth (99) books. The fifth and final book offers two examples (107 and 136).

ACROSTIC PSALMS

The last important stylistic feature of Hebrew poetry we will consider is the use of the acrostic arrangement in a number of psalms. In general, an acrostic poem is one in which lines are so arranged or created that the initial letters of successive lines produce a recognizable pattern. As children, many of us have indulged our romantic and poetic bent by creating acrostics out of the names of our current romantic interests. In one instance, the Septuagint records in Greek such an acrostic composition highlighting the name of the Hasmonean ruler Alexander Jannaeus (XXX).

As far as Hebrew acrostics go, however, the pattern exhibited is much less free and variable. The initial letters of successive lines consistently follow the order of the Hebrew alphabet's twenty-two characters, beginning with alep, bet, gimel, dalet,. . . and continuing in order to completion with sin and taw. Thus Hebrew acrostics will usually demonstrate twenty-two lines or (in the case of more than one line for each letter) multiples of twenty-two lines. In some cases a twenty-third line beginning with the letter pe is added at the end of an acrostic psalm (see Psalms 25 and 34). The reason being that, with this addition, the first line begins with alep, the middle with lamed, and the final line with pe. As a result, the combination of these letters‹alp‹spells out the name of the initial alphabetic character as well as the Hebrew verb "to train," since one purpose of an alphabetic acrostic might be as a mnemonic aid to learning.

There are in the Hebrew Psalter eight acrostic psalms (9/10, 25, 34, 37, 111, 112, 119, 145). Recognition of the first of these involves the recognition that psalms 9 and 10 represent an originally unified composition that has at some point in its history been divided in two. (The Septuagint actually combines these two psalms into a single composition.) The acrostic pattern is clear in the lines of Psalm 9 and in the concluding verses (7-14) of Psalm 10, but is somewhat disturbed and imperfect at the beginning of Psalm 10 (verses 1-6) where the original unity of these two psalms has been obscured by separation. The remainder of these eight psalms exhibit the alphabetic pattern clearly.

Seven of the acrostics found in the Psalter offer but a single occurrence of each alphabetic character. The number of poetic lines introduced by each letter may vary (compare Psalms 111 and 112 with 37), but there is only one line beginning with alep, one beginning with bet, and so on. The single exception to this norm is the massive Psalm 119, in which each letter is represented by no fewer than eight lines all beginning with the same letter and arranged in eight-lined stanzas in which each line begins with the same Hebrew character (eight aleps, eight bets, etc.). The effect is visually impressive and the similar beginning of lines, once pointed out, can even be observed by those unfamiliar with the Hebrew language.

Why the Hebrew poets chose this particular form of acrostic composition as their traditional pattern is unknown. Unfortunately no contemporary discussion of biblical poetic technique has been preserved for us. The pattern does, however, set the poet an additional challenge for mastery. To arrange ones thoughts in such a way as to insure that each successive line begins with the appropriate letter of the alphabetic sequence is no mean task. To do so with artistic skill and power is remarkable. The skill required, however, is probably no more exacting than that involved in composing a sonnet in which fourteen lines of poetry concluding in a final couplet must conform to a particular pattern of rhyme, meter, and arrangement (depending on which sonnet style the poet is following). Either task could be daunting for anything less than a skilled poet. And some critics find the artistry of Psalm 119 less than satisfactory. It is in their view over long, stultifying, repetitious, and dull.

Outside the Psalter, acrostic compositions are known in the biblical book of Lamentations. Of the five chapters of the book, all but the last are acrostic psalms of lament. Chapters 1, 2, and 4 exhibit single occurrences of each letter, while chapter 3 offers three-lined stanzas in which each line begins with the same letter. Another particularly effective biblical acrostic appears in Proverbs 31:10-31 (the "good wife" passage).

Hebrew alphabetic acrostics are also known to us from the Dead Sea Scrolls discovered near Qumran. The important Qumran Psalms Scroll (11QPs^a) contains three such alphabetic acrostic psalms, two previously known to us in Greek form (Psalm 155 and Sirach 51:13ff.) and the other (Apostrophe to Zion) entirely new to us.

Acrostic compositions are particularly difficult to observe in translation. However, most translations indicate the acrostic nature of a psalm in some external way. In some cases a note is attached at the bottom of the page. Elsewhere the convention is to mark each line with the appropriate Hebrew character in the margin or between stanzas. Otherwise, without knowledge of the Hebrew language, it is practically impossible for an interpreter to identify alphabetic compositions.

Alphabetic acrostics have enjoyed long association with the Wisdom tradition in ancient Israel. Several appear in traditional wisdom books (Prov 31:10-31; Sirach 51:13ff.). Others employ patently sapiential language and themes (Psalms 25, 34, 37, 111, 112, 119, 145) and are considered the product of the wisdom tradition. In wisdom circles, acrostic compositions seemed to have been chosen as appropriate conclusions to sapiential works. (See the comments in P. Skehan and A. Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira. Anchor Bible 39 [Doubleday, 1987], p. 74.) This is the case with Proverbs where 31:10-31 provides closure. Sirach 51:13ff. serves the same function for that book. Within the Psalter, Psalm 145 stands at the end of the final book, and precipitates the concluding Hallel (psalms 146-150).

SUMMARY

The artistic toolbox available to Hebrew poets is as varied and nuanced as that of any other nation. While a few of the techniques they employ may seem unfamiliar to us, and therefore awkward, an appreciation of the skill and style of Hebrew poetry can only increase with continued exposure and acquaintance with those conventions that provide challenge and shape to their literary enterprise.

The Hebrew poets and psalmists were products of their day and culture. There is much sentiment abroad today in our own post-modern environment that views convention with suspicion and disrespects those who choose to express themselves within a set of defining structures such as Hebrew poetry represents. There is a tendency to exalt those who resist‹even seek to annihilate‹conventional structures as heroes (or antiheroes). As a result, too often the consummate skill and artistry of the biblical poets is under appreciated and even denigrated.

The amazing fact for me is that these ancient poetic compositions, with all their alien form and content, continue to attract and repulse, inspire, confront, and challenge their readers across all those intervening centuries. To those who learn a little and listen with ears even moderately open, the poetry of the psalms will crack open a window to the soul of a people who lived in honest recognition of personal and communal pain, joy, and the contradictions of life these both illuminate. It is a window that, once opened and peered through, can never be slammed fully shut again, and the vision gained, willingly or not, will make us different people‹never quite the same again. For this we can give credit and thanks, at least in some small part, to the unique and traditional style of Hebrew poetic expression.