The Parable of Ephraim's Bow and the Lord's Choice of David

Psalm 78 opens with a demand for attention. The poet, identified as Asaph, calls the people to hear his law, to incline their ears to the words of his mouth. He will speak in a parable, utter dark sayings from old—things heard and known, passed down by fathers to children. The command is not casual. The generation to come must know the praises of the Lord, his strength, and his wondrous works, so they set their hope in God and keep his commandments, not becoming like their fathers: a stubborn and rebellious generation, a generation that did not set their heart aright, whose spirit was not steadfast with God.

The first example of that failure is Ephraim. Armed and carrying bows, they turned back in the day of battle. They did not keep the covenant of God and refused to walk in his law. They forgot his doings and the wondrous works he had shown them. The poet then recounts those works: the Lord divided 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 split rocks in the wilderness and gave them drink abundantly, bringing streams out of the rock like rivers.

Yet they continued to sin against him, to rebel 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? He struck the rock and water gushed out, but can he give bread also? Will he provide flesh for his people?” The Lord heard and was angry. Fire was kindled against Jacob, anger went up against Israel, because they did not believe in God and did not trust in his salvation.

Even so, the Lord commanded the skies and opened the doors of heaven. He rained down manna for them to eat, gave them food from heaven—the bread of the mighty. He caused the east wind to blow and guided the south wind, raining flesh upon them like dust, winged birds like the sand of the seas. They ate and were well filled, and he gave them their own desire. But while the food was still in their mouths, the anger of God went up against them and slew the fattest of them, striking down the young men of Israel.

For all this, they sinned still and did not believe in his wondrous works. So the Lord consumed their days in vanity and their years in terror. When he slew them, they inquired after him and sought God earnestly. They remembered that God was their rock, the Most High God their redeemer. But 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 and did not stir up all his wrath. He remembered that they were but flesh, a wind that passes away and does not come again. How often they rebelled against him in the wilderness and grieved him in the desert! They turned again and tempted God, provoked the Holy One of Israel. They did not remember his hand, nor the day he redeemed them from the adversary.

The poet then recites the signs in Egypt, the wonders in the field of Zoan: rivers turned to blood, swarms of flies, frogs, caterpillars, locusts, hail, frost, thunderbolts, pestilence, and the death of the firstborn. But the Lord led his own people like sheep, guided them in the wilderness like a flock, led them safely so they did not fear, 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 their land as an inheritance, making the tribes of Israel dwell in their tents.

Yet they tempted and rebelled against the Most High God, did not keep his testimonies, but 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 their graven images. When God heard, he was wroth and greatly abhorred Israel. He forsook the tabernacle at Shiloh, the tent he had placed among men. He delivered his strength into captivity, 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 awoke as one out of sleep, like a mighty man shouting because of wine. He struck his adversaries backward and put them to perpetual reproach. He refused the tent of Joseph and did not choose 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 which he has established forever. He chose David his servant, took him from the sheepfolds, from following the ewes with their young, to be the shepherd of Jacob his people, Israel his inheritance. So David shepherded them according to the integrity of his heart and guided them by the skillfulness of his hands.