Everything That Has Breath

We have come a long way together in 14 days. We began with Psalm 1 and the question of where your roots go. We have been through the wonder of Psalm 8, the honest lament of Psalm 42, the unresolved darkness of Psalm 88, the trust of Psalm 23, the wrestling of Psalm 73, the intimacy of Psalm 139, the quiet soul of Psalm 131.

And now we arrive at the final Psalm. Not back at the beginning, as if none of it happened. At the other end of the whole journey -- at the praise that comes from the other side of having been through something real.

The Doxology at the End of All Things

Psalm 150 is almost entirely verb. Praise. Praise. Praise. Six verses and the word hallelujah -- praise the Lord -- appears thirteen times. There is no theological argument here, no wrestling, no petition, no lament. Just praise. But it lands differently at the end of the whole Psalter than it would at the beginning.

Because you have read the whole book. You know what it took to get here. You know Psalm 88. You know the lament of the exile in Psalm 137. You know the dark nights and the unanswered prayers and the honest questions about whether the righteous life is worth it. And you arrive at Psalm 150 having been through all of that, and the praise is richer for it. This is not the easy praise of someone who has not yet been tested. This is the praise of a people who have been through everything and have come out the other side with more certainty about God than they went in with.

Where to Praise

Praise God in his sanctuary. Praise him in his mighty heavens. Both. The intimate space and the cosmic one. In the gathered community where you sing together, and in the immensity of creation that declares His glory every day without words. Praise belongs in both places.

And notice: this is not an invitation to praise only when the sanctuary is perfectly arranged, or only when the heavens are clear and beautiful. The Psalms have taught us by now that praise is possible in all conditions -- in the valley of the shadow, at the table in the presence of enemies, in the dark night that does not resolve. The praise at the end of Psalm 150 is not conditional on circumstances. It is the overflow of a people who have found that God is the kind of God who deserves praise in every weather.

The Instruments

The Psalm lists the instruments of praise with almost joyful extravagance. Trumpet. Harp. Lyre. Tambourine. Dancing. Strings. Flute. Clash of cymbals. Resounding cymbals. It is noisy and physical and full-bodied. This is not quiet, managed, dignified praise. This is the whole person -- body, breath, movement, sound -- offered to God without reservation.

There is something important in this. The Psalms have taught us that the full range of human experience belongs in God's presence: the grief, the doubt, the anger, the wrestling, the quiet stillness. And so does the full range of human expression. The body is included in the praise. The noise is included. The dancing. God does not want a carefully managed presentation of your best spiritual self. He wants everything that has breath.

Everything That Has Breath

The final verse of the whole book of Psalms. Everything that has breath. Not: everyone who has sorted out their theology. Not: everyone who is feeling spiritually well today. Not: everyone who has resolved their doubts and moved past their laments. Everything that has breath.

You have breath. You are reading this. And that is the only qualification required to join the final chorus of the whole Psalter. Not a perfect prayer life. Not an absence of struggle. Not a resolved dark night. Breath. Yours. Today.

That is the Psalms' final word to you. After everything -- after the praise and the lament and the trust and the doubt and the quiet and the wrestling -- you still have breath. And you can still praise. And He is still worthy of it. Hallelujah.

It has been a privilege to walk through these 14 days with you. The Psalms have been the prayer book of God's people for three thousand years. They are yours now too.