The love of God would appear to have two faces, our love of him and his love of us. We believe that God's love is eternal unconditional and unrestricted, because his nature is love (1 John 4:16). We love because he loved us first (1 John 4:19). The explanation of this statement lies in our own inherent sinfulness which makes us unlovable by human standards. But the love of God can flow through us, evil as we may be, and then we realize that we are accepted by our Creator in our present state. Then there can be a progressive acceptance of our fundamental faults without flinching or self-justification. As we relax in the accepting love of God, so our defences begin to yield. Then at last we can start to relate to our fellows in calm acceptance of their natures, no longer either judging them adversely or feeling debased in front of them because we believe they are so much more spiritual than we are. This awareness is a presage of the peace that surpasses understanding which we are all to know at the end of time and the coming in glory of the Holy One.

God's love for his creation is expressed unforgettably in Psalm 103, which we have already considered on page 64 with regard to his support in times of trouble. Psalm 86 expresses some of the sentiments of the other psalm in the more taxing context of immediate trouble. The writer is poor and oppressed, and he calls for God's constant support:

Fill your servant's heart with joy,
for to you, Lord, I lift up my heart.
Lord, you are kind and forgiving,
full of love towards all who cry to you.

As in other psalms of entreaty, anxious descriptions of trouble are mixed with praise of God's power and requests for speedy relief:

Lord, listen to my prayer
and hear my pleading.
In the day of distress I call to you,
for you will answer me.
Among the gods not one is like you,
Lord; no deeds compare with yours.

As in Psalm 119, there is a request for God to teach the Psalmist his way that he may walk in his truth, and this is followed by thanks for the divine love and assistance. At once there is a lurid description of a band of evil men who are out to destroy the Psalmist and all he stands for in the great arena of life. As in Psalm 103, there is a description of God's nature, compassionate, gracious, long-suffering, ever faithful and true, and then follows the usual plea for protection. If only God would provide some sign of favour in the present emergency, so that the enemies may fall back abashed!

For you, Lord, have been my help and comfort.

The problem of God's silence when his beloved are in peril is perennial. It seems that we are being groomed for a more mature humanity, coping with our difficulties manfully without calling on the Lord for them simply to be removed. Prayer strengthens us immeasurably for the trials ahead, but it cannot be expected to solve our problems. If such a mechanism were in our grasp, we would casually take it for granted as our right, soon failing to exert ourselves to meet a difficult situation. As Jesus told his disciples, "It is in your interest that I am leaving you. If I do not go, the advocate (the Holy Spirit) will not come, whereas if I go, I will send him to you" (John 16:7).

This is a hard lesson of love that all parents have eventually to learn: let the beloved alone to work out his own life's work. Bruised and battered, he may come closer to the God who absents himself for our sake than many would who were steeped in sincere piety but unable to make critical decisions on their own. Well does the writer of Ecclesiastes remark, "He who keeps watching the wind will never sow, and he who keeps his eye on the clouds will never reap" (Eccles. 11:4). If we have faith in the overall efficient running of the universe, we can rely on our own acumen; things are bound to go wrong from time to time, but if we are wise, we can learn from the inevitable misfortunes of life so as to balance them with the times of plenty when we could give thanks with joy. Our trouble is a lack of awareness of the good fortune we so often experience; a decided reverse in events often makes us reflect on the golden past that had before been so taken for granted that its content lay forgotten in our minds.

It could be that the more moderate tone of the suffering writer of Psalm 86 reveals a grasp of this profound truth of life, so that he ceased to arraign God for his sufferings in the way that we have noted elsewhere, and started to see the divine relationship in a more sober light. I find this one of the most moving of the psalms of entreaty in the whole collection.

Many people find it hard, if not incomprehensible, to love God. They would truly yearn for the experience, but it seems to elude them. In this respect it is useful to understand what we call God in two modes. There is firstly the supreme unity which is beyond rational description; the great mystics have come closest to this ineffable splendour, and they agree that silence is the only mode in which the mystery can be disclosed. Yet, they cannot keep the experience to themselves, because a love of such intensity has overcome them that their dearest wish is to confide it to everyone around them. This is a fundamental property of love that it demands to be shared. The lover is in no way superior to the beloved, who is everyone, but his reward lies in imparting the healing grace of love to all who will receive it. "Come for water, all who are thirsty; though you have no money, come, buy grain and eat; come, buy wine and milk, not for money, not for a price" (Isa. 55:1). The tragedy of love lies in the offhand, supercilious way it is treated:

He was in the world: but the world, though it owed its being to him, did not recognize him. He came to his own, and his own people would not accept him. But to all who did accept him, to those who put their trust in him, he gave the right to become children of God. (John 1:10-12)

The gift is, of course, free but the effect it has on the recipient transforms his whole life, so that he too is filled with love and participates in its flow to the whole world. It is in this spirit that our love for God becomes real.

And then the Deity ceases to be a mere ineffable atmosphere but becomes a living being. Love can never ignore the individual; it is essentially personal, unlike goodwill, which can remain diffuse and uncommitted despite all its fine aspirations. As articulate humans, we can hardly avoid describing the divine presence within us and around us in human terms; "Father" is a favourite one, and will continue despite the family disarray that is such a prominent part of western society at present. The term father imparts strength, responsible guidance and protection, which is what we all need closest to our hearts. The term mother is also apposite; its tender, caring, nurturing character complements the directive strength of the masculine image, but does not supplant it. In fact both images are necessary (as the numerous mothers of one-parent families have to provide in our strangely amoral society). The parental archetype is deeply set in the personal as well as the collective unconscious, as is also the God-figure in the spirit of the soul. It is here that the divine essence is intimately known, but what is interior is merely a focus of the divine presence that transcends all finite being. The primordial unity may be called the Godhead, while its personal presence in the universe is the God who is worshipped in theistic religion, of which the psalms are outstanding examples. In Christian thought the God of religion is known in three personal forms: Father, Son and Holy Spirit, whereas in Judaism and Islam the one Father is known and glorified as God. Indeed the God of Islam is so transcendent that the metaphor Father may be considered impious by some Muslims. Yet Allah too is described as the Merciful and Compassionate One, and is the focus of intense devotion.

The love of God beams on us when we are receptive to it. This means an inner silence, which we know in the first instance after wonder, gratitude or suffering have arrested our wandering thoughts in their tracks, and we are brought to stillness. Once we know the presence of love in that stillness, we respond in love to it, and our intimate response is called prayer. In prayer the mind and heart, indeed the whole being, is raised up to love of God. This in turn infuses the person, until eventually he gives the same love to God as he receives from him. St Bernard in a lovely sermon on the symbolism of the Canticles writes:

The perfect correspondence of wills makes of two one spirit. We need not fear that the inequality of the two should make this harmony imperfect; love knows not reverence. Love is the great reality. It is the only affection of the soul in which the creature is able to respond to the Creator, though not on equal terms, and to repay like with like. Although being a creature the soul loves less, because she is less, nevertheless if she loves with her whole self, nothing is wanting where all is given. He that is joined to God is one spirit.

This quotation in Mysticism in Religion by W. R. Inge is followed by Inge's own reflection that although St Bernard speaks only of love to God, pure human love, as the sacrament of this, is the fulfilment of the law of love in our earthly life. He quotes Tertullian, "When thou seest thy brother thou seest thy Lord."

As we said at the beginning of the chapter, we love because he loved us first. The writer's love of God permeates all the psalms, but in a few, called the Psalms of Kingship, where God is celebrated as King of Israel, that devotion attains a peak. Our first chapter considered the glory of God as Creator of the universe with special reference to our little part of it. When we reflect on the theme of God as King, we find that his relationship with his creatures is seen in a more intimate way. They respond in love in the way that St Bernard described, and then the glory is infinite. Psalm 47 is the first, and magnificent it is too:

Clap your hands, all you nations,
acclaim God with shouts of joy.
How awesome is the Lord Most High,
great King over all the earth!

The universal scope of the psalm is noteworthy, as all people are summoned to applaud God. But he subdues all the other nations, choosing for, Israel its heritage, the pride of Jacob whom he loves. There is a shout of triumph as God rises and goes up to the Temple in a great procession, and cries of great praise accompany the procession. God is King of the whole earth, and the people are urged to sing psalms for all they are worth.

Seated on his holy throne,
God reigns over the nations.

The rulers of all the nations assemble with the Israelites to do him homage, for the mighty ones of earth belong to God, who is exalted on high. This is no ritual act, such as the prophets often deprecated. The joy surges through the assembled mass as they make their acclamation about the God whom they love and cherish as one with themselves. Psalm 93 in tones of magisterial authority declares God's Kingship:

The Lord has become King, clothed with majesty;
the Lord is robed, girded with might.

In rather the same way as Psalm 29 (see page 10) God is seen as the master of the power that controls the world. The crashing breakers of the sea are as nothing compared with the might and majesty of the Creator, while the earth is immovably established. Like Psalm 19, with which we began our reflections on the psalms, the Law is juxtaposed with the natural order, whose laws too are under divine control:

Your decrees stand firm,
and holiness befits your house,
Lord, throughout the ages.

From all eternity God is Lord, his throne being established from of old.

Psalm 96 once again celebrates God's universal majesty:

Sing a new song to the Lord.
Sing to the Lord, all the earth.
Sing to the Lord and bless his name;
day by day proclaim his victory . . .
Ascribe to the Lord, you families of nations,
ascribe to the Lord glory and might . . .
Bring an offering and enter his courts;
in holy attire worship the Lord;
tremble before him, all the earth.
Declare among the nations, "The Lord is King."

Once again the imagery of Psalm 29 is used to describe the omnipotence of the Lord. And then follows a sequence of judgement:

"He will judge the peoples with equity."
Let the heavens rejoice and the earth be glad,
let the sea resound and everything in it . . .
before the Lord when he comes,
when he comes to judge the earth.
He will judge the world with justice
and peoples by his faithfulness.

The judgement of God is the Law, but once we have moved into the realm of love, the Law is fulfilled inasmuch as a person of love cannot contravene the moral imperatives of God's Law as revealed to Moses. St Paul amplifies this theme in Romans 13:8-10. When these psalms of God's Kingship were recited, the Jews were filled with the love of God. It is not surprising that the usual national exclusiveness broke down into a worldwide outlook that could embrace all peoples in God's Kingdom. It reminds us today also that love alone can heal the terrible rifts among the various nations of the world. Religions are valid in so far as they stimulate this love by the disciplines of prayer, communal worship and service in the greater community. Love in fact transcends credal barriers by fulfilling the creed and expanding it to embrace all humanity.

Psalm 97 continues the theme of divine Kingship. It is in fact an amalgam of other psalm texts:

The Lord has become King;
let the earth be glad,
let coasts and islands all rejoice.
Cloud and thick mist enfold him,
righteousness and justice
are the foundation of his throne . . .
The heavens proclaim his righteousness,
and all peoples see his glory.

All idols and false gods are castigated; they collapse into non-existence in the presence, the face, of the living God. Great was the greeting of Judah's cities at the name of God, for he is a refining fire and also a refreshing breeze. The evildoers are hated, but God's loyal servants are kept safe, a debatable doctrine considered in greater detail on pages 32 and 57.

A harvest of light has arisen for the righteous,
and joy for the upright in heart.
You that are righteous, rejoice in the Lord
and praise his holy name.

Psalm 95 is the most familiar of the set, since it is often used in the course of morning prayer in Christian worship. It is called the Venite.

Come! Let us raise a joyful song to the Lord,
a shout of triumph to the rock of our salvation.
Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving
and sing psalms of triumph to him.
For the Lord is a great God,
a great King above all gods.

He is the Creator of all the world, and we are bidden to enter into the Temple and bow down in worship before the God who made us, who shepherds his flock with tender care. It is this part of the psalm that is recited during morning worship; the remainder is optional because it describes the wrath of God with destructive vigour. It recalls the backsliding of the people during the exodus from Egypt, how God abhorred them for their ingratitude, and saw to it that none of them should enter the divine rest.

It is quite right that a temporal king should show his anger, because he is, after all, only human like the rest of us. But wrath of the intensity described in Psalm 95 ill befits the God of love celebrated in Psalm 103 and the passages from St John's first letter quoted at the beginning of this chapter. The wrath of God has been equated with his "jealousy", revealed to Moses on Mount Sinai, but this again needs careful interpretation. A devoted parent is jealous of his child's reputation, and will punish him severely for a misdemeanour. We have considered this on pages 98-9 but the rage depicted in some of the psalms, as in the other parts of the Bible, has not been ultimately helpful to the propagation of higher religion. It is, I believe, best to see the law of the universe as the agent of punishment, as the civil law and its servants necessarily punish us if we contravene it. But God transcends his creation; while being intimately concerned in its welfare, he does not interfere in its working. He can, however, be called on in prayer, and then pours his Spirit on to us as we work more harmoniously for the common good. Love accepts us for what we are in order to direct us to what we are to become, true children of God in the image of his incarnate Son Jesus. Every action has its effect, but no effect is outside the divine compassion and assistance provided we ask in humble faith. One must hope that the many recalcitrant Israelites who apostasized so often in the wilderness on the way to the Holy Land were able to repent of their folly in the greater life beyond death. Such, at any rate, is the hope expressed in 2 Maccabees 12:38-45. The wisdom of inner knowledge that comes with the ageing process tells us that either heaven is for us all or else none can be worthy of it. A heaven in which even one creature was excluded would be intolerable to those inside its bounds, since love is the very essence of the heavenly state.

Psalm 100 is also familiar through morning worship. It is called the Jubilate:

Let all the earth acclaim the Lord!
Worship the Lord in gladness;
enter his presence with joyful songs.

We are exhorted to acknowledge the Kingship of God, that he made us. In its origin the psalm implies that the Israelites were his own people, the flock which he shepherds, but we now can extend this to the whole human race, and through its ministry to the entire created order. It was the privilege of Israel to bring this knowledge of God to the remainder of the world, finally through the ministry of Jesus and Muhammad.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,
his courts with praise.
Give thanks to him and bless his name;
for the Lord is good and his love is everlasting,
his faithfulness endures to all generations.

The first part of the last sentence is repeated throughout the Old Testament: Jeremiah 33:11 and Ezra 3:11 are good examples. The pairing of love and faithfulness, noted in Psalm 89, reaches its fulfilment here.

Psalms 98 and 99 are also psalms of God's Kingship. The first stresses God's judgemental activities in the world, while the second exalts his holiness. In his might the King loves justice and has established equity. We should bow in homage at his footstool. Then comes the memory of the work of Moses and Aaron, who were his priests, and also Samuel, a devoted minister of the Lord. They called and he answered in the pillar of cloud, which is, in fact, the divine darkness of the mystic, the cloud of unknowing written about by the unknown English medieval spiritual genius.

Psalm 99 notes that although God answered his servants, he also called them to account for their misdeeds, but he then forgave them. No matter how ardent we are in the spiritual life, we may be sure that the coarser "outer man" will make his protests from time to time. If we take ourselves too seriously, we may begin to despair of ever making progress on the inner path. And then the Lord, who is the master of good humour among other things, will smile lovingly at us, and tell us to proceed onwards. Of course we are unworthy of our universal priestly calling, but he is worthy. All he wants of us is our attention, so that we may do the present work as efficiently as possible. If it is done in his name, we may be sure that it will be well done, and a blessing will flow out to us in its performance. "Put me to the proof, says the Lord of Hosts, and see if I do not open windows in the sky and pour a blessing on you as long as there is need" (Mal. 3:10). But first we must bring the whole tithe into the treasury, so that there may be food for God's house, which is the eternal Temple.