Make Some Noise

Scripture: Psalm 100


Psalm 100 is, by any measure, among the most beloved and influential scriptures in the entire Bible. Its verses are familiar. It has a special place in the daily worship of Jews and members of the Anglican Church. It has been set to music by composers as diverse as Leonard Bernstein, Benjamin Britten, Charles Ives, and Henry Purcell. Biblical scholar James Mays has said that, “[w]ere the statistics known, Psalm 100 would probably prove to be the song most often chanted within the history that runs from the Israelite temple on Mount Zion to the synagogues and churches spread across the earth.”

In addition, Psalm 100’s memorable phrase “joyful noise” has found its way into every corner of our popular culture. It is the name of an Indianapolis record label, a Colorado drum shop, a North Carolina community arts center, a Michigan music studio, countless bands and choral groups, dozens of preschools across the country, and a movie starring Queen Latifah and Dolly Parton. Clearly, we like this idea of “joyful noise.”

And yet, for all this, it might appear that there isn’t much to say about Psalm 100. It is simple, lovely, and uplifting. It is pleasant to read, more pleasant to sing, and most pleasant to hear sung well. Unlike, for example, Paul’s letter to the Romans, Psalm 100 does not demand that we undertake major interpretive excursions just to understand what it is getting at.

But it is important not to underestimate the richness of Psalm 100. There is a lot going on here. And if we look upon this old friend with fresh eyes we may see and celebrate things we had not noticed before.

Let’s start with that phrase “joyful noise.” At first blush, it might almost seem like a contradiction in terms—an oxymoron—because noise irritates us much more often than it inspires us. In this sense, “joyful noise” may remind us of other oxymoronic phrases, like “airline food,” “motel art,” “family vacation,” “organized religion,” “disco music,” and—my personal favorite—“adult male.”

If you think about it, however, you’ll realize that the Bible is actually a very noisy book. The phrase “joyful noise” appears in four other Psalms: 66, 81, 95, and 98. And the Psalms include a lot of shouting as well. Psalms 32, 35, 47, 65, and 132 all urge us to “shout for joy” to the Lord.

Indeed, the Bible is full of famous shouting. In the sixth chapter of Joshua, a great shout brings down the walls of Jericho. The third chapter of Ezra tells us that the people shouted in praise when the foundation was laid for the Temple in Jerusalem. Matthew reports that the crowds who followed Jesus into Jerusalem were shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”

Of course, the Bible has a lot more in it than shouting. It also has trumpets—lots of trumpets. And some scriptural passages even include shouting and trumpets. For example, in his first letter to the Thessalonians, Paul describes Jesus’ return using this language: “For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven.”

So this idea of “joyful noise” is not unique to Psalm 100. It permeates the Bible. Yes, the Bible says that God speaks to us in a “still, small voice.” But it also says that God speaks “with a voice of thunder.” And, yes, the gospels tell us that when we pray we should speak softly and make no great show of it. But they also say that sometimes nothing will do but an unrestrained, full-throated, toss-your-head-back shout.

Still, Psalm 100 is singular in the energy it conveys to us and the activity it demands of us. Indeed, if you look closely at Psalm 100 you’ll notice that its few verses include not less than seven imperative verbs: “make a joyful noise”; “worship the Lord with gladness”; “come into His presence”; “know that the Lord is God”; “enter his gates with thanksgiving”; “give thanks to Him”; “bless his name.”

The only word that seems even remotely soft or passive here is “know,” which might seem to suggest some kind of intellectual process. But, in the Hebrew Bible, “knowledge of the Lord” does not just refer to what we believe; it refers to how we live. So, for example, when the book of Hosea tells us—repeatedly—that God was angry with Israel because its people had no “knowledge” of Him the point is not that they hadn’t heard of the Lord; rather, the point is that they were acting as if they hadn’t heard of the Lord.

With all this talk of knowing, making, entering, giving, worshiping, and blessing we might lose track of what the psalmist actually wants to say to us here. But, if we return to the top of the psalm and note the superscription, the point is hard to miss. This psalm, it turns out, is about how we give thanks to God.

And what the psalmist wants us to understand is that true thankfulness consists of more than a mental state. True thankfulness is expressed through how we choose to live. To paraphrase an old saying, we should live so that if we were accused of being a truly thankful people there would be enough evidence to convict us.

But there is more. The psalmist wants us to understand that living thankfully means taking your bearings, recognizing God as your True North, and setting your course accordingly. That is why biblical scholars have described Psalm 100 as an “orienting” scripture—because it directs our attention away from ourselves and toward higher things. Or, as Hebrew Bible scholar Walter Brueggemann has put it, “Obviously our world is at the edge of insanity and we with it. In a world like this, [the one-hundredth] psalm is an act of sanity, whereby we may be re-clothed in our rightful minds. Life is no longer self-grounded without thanks but rooted in thanks.”

On September 8, 1860, a boat called the Lady Elgin floundered on Lake Michigan near the Northwestern University campus. A ministerial student named Edward Spencer rushed to its aid and rescued some seventeen people. Spencer’s health was so permanently damaged from the exposure that he was forced to discontinue his preparation for the ministry. Surely, the people he rescued were grateful. But, years later, when Spencer died, his obituary reported that not one of the seventeen people he saved had ever bothered to thank him.

It is a good and pretty thing to have thankful thoughts and thankful hearts. But Psalm 100 tells us that we must also have thankful lives. And it tells us that we must express our thankfulness with all the “joyful noise” we can muster.

Amen.