Very tired this morning, not great sleep and now a day. Managed to slice my thumb making toast and dripped blood on the shirt I was ironing, sort of day.
The psalm has David imagining pilgrims arriving at the gate of Jerusalem and going up to the house of the Lord. The temple wasn’t built in his time, sacrifices were in the tabernacle in Kiriath-Jearim, about 9 miles from Jerusalem.
He chose the location for the temple, he bought the ark into Jerusalem. He built the city up and started stockpiling materials for the temple. It was a work that would have fired his imagination.
As a choirboy I sang this psalm, a warm and calm setting. Jerusalem felt like home. “O pray for the peace of Jerusalem, they shall prosper that love thee” The word “peace” was given an exotic figure of notes and overlapping parts.
It is a prayer for peace, a place for peace. THE place of peace. The prophets had visions of all nations coming down a highway though the desert all a-bloom to Jerusalem.
Peace. The promise of it, now to calm me. After a restless night, I can’t really move beyond the mantra of that word.