Ephraim's Bow, the Wilderness, and the Choosing of David

Psalm 78 opens with a demand for attention. Asaph, the writer, calls the people to listen to his law, to incline their ears to the words of his mouth. He will speak in parables and utter dark sayings from old—things heard and known, passed down by fathers. The purpose is clear: the generation to come must know the praises of the Lord, his strength, and his wondrous works. This is not idle storytelling. It is a command to teach so that children might set their hope in God, not forget his works, and keep his commandments.

The psalm immediately contrasts this ideal with a failure. The children of Ephraim, armed and carrying bows, turned back in the day of battle. They kept not the covenant of God and refused to walk in his law. They forgot his doings and the wondrous works he had shown them. This is the first concrete example of a generation that set not their heart aright, whose spirit was not steadfast with God. The bow was in their hands, but they retreated.

Then the psalm recounts what they forgot. The Lord did marvelous things in the sight of their fathers in the land of Egypt, in the field of Zoan. He clave the sea and caused them to pass through, making the waters stand as a heap. He led them with a cloud by day and a fire by night. He clave rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink abundantly, bringing streams out of the rock like rivers. These were not small mercies. They were visible, physical, undeniable acts of deliverance.

Yet the people went on sinning. They rebelled against the Most High in the desert. They tempted God in their heart by asking food according to their desire. They spoke against God, saying, “Can God prepare a table in the wilderness?” They acknowledged the water from the rock but doubted he could give bread or flesh. The Lord heard and was wroth. Fire kindled against Jacob, anger went up against Israel, because they believed not in God and trusted not in his salvation.

Despite their unbelief, the Lord opened the doors of heaven. He rained down manna, the bread of the mighty, and gave them food to the full. He caused the east wind to blow and rained flesh upon them like dust, winged birds like the sand of the seas. They ate and were well filled. But while the food was still in their mouths, the anger of God went up against them. He slew the fattest of them and smote down the young men of Israel. Even then, they sinned still and believed not in his wondrous works. Their days were consumed in vanity, their years in terror.

When he slew them, they inquired after him and returned to seek God earnestly. They remembered that God was their rock and the Most High their redeemer. But their repentance was shallow. They flattered him with their mouth and lied with their tongue. Their heart was not right with him, and they were not faithful in his covenant. Yet the Lord, being merciful, forgave their iniquity and did not destroy them. Many a time he turned his anger away. He remembered that they were but flesh, a wind that passes away and does not come again.

The psalm asks, “How oft did they rebel against him in the wilderness and grieve him in the desert!” They turned again and tempted God, provoking the Holy One of Israel. They did not remember his hand, the day he redeemed them from the adversary, the signs and wonders in Egypt and the field of Zoan. The psalm lists the plagues: rivers turned to blood, swarms of flies, frogs, caterpillars, locusts, hail, frost, thunderbolts, pestilence, and the death of the firstborn. The Lord made a path for his anger and spared not their soul from death.

But then the tone shifts. He led forth his own people like sheep and guided them in the wilderness like a flock. He led them safely so that they feared not, while the sea overwhelmed their enemies. He brought them to the border of his sanctuary, to the mountain his right hand had gotten. He drove out nations before them and allotted them an inheritance by line, making the tribes of Israel dwell in their tents. Yet they tempted and rebelled again, keeping not his testimonies. They turned back and dealt treacherously like their fathers, turned aside like a deceitful bow. They provoked him to anger with their high places and moved him to jealousy with graven images.

When God heard, he was wroth and greatly abhorred Israel. He forsook the tabernacle of Shiloh, the tent he placed among men. He delivered his strength into captivity and his glory into the adversary's hand. He gave his people over to the sword. Fire devoured their young men, their virgins had no marriage-song, their priests fell by the sword, and their widows made no lamentation. Then the Lord awaked as one out of sleep, like a mighty man shouting by reason of wine. He smote his adversaries backward and put them to perpetual reproach.

The psalm ends with a decisive turn. He refused the tent of Joseph and chose not the tribe of Ephraim. Instead, he chose the tribe of Judah, Mount Zion which he loved. He built his sanctuary like the heights, like the earth established forever. And he chose David his servant, taking him from the sheepfolds, from following the ewes with their young, to be the shepherd of Jacob his people and Israel his inheritance. David shepherded them according to the integrity of his heart and guided them by the skilfulness of his hands. The psalm that began with Ephraim's failure ends with David's appointment—a shepherd from the sheepfolds, not a bow that turned back.