Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord. – Ephesians 5:18-19
These words, spoken by the Apostle Paul, have been debated by Christians throughout the centuries. Is Paul exclusively defending psalm-singing? Or does Paul make a distinction between psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs? However one might interpret these two verses, there is one thing which most Christians agree that the text states clearly: Christians are to be a singing people. Christians are not only to be a singing people, but a people marked by what they sing. Setting aside debates over whether we should exclusively sing the psalms, Paul makes this much clear: Christians are those who, in some form or another, sing the psalms.
Much has been said about the theological significance of singing the psalms. From the Messianic prophecies of Psalm 22 to the penitent pleas of Psalm 51, the Psalter drips with theological truth while simultaneously demonstrating how we are to live godly, penitent lives as a result of such redemption. When we sing the Psalms, we sing these truths back to God, both praising Him for His manifold blessings and crying out to Him amid our despair.
Little attention, however, has been given to the historical importance of Psalm singing. Technically speaking, the psalms have been sung by God’s people since the time of David. Collections within the psalter—such as the Psalms of Ascent (Psalms 120-134)—occupied a central place in the religious life of ancient Israel, particularly in connection to pilgrimage to Jerusalem and temple worship. Moreover, as Matthew 26:30 testifies, it is very likely that our Saviour Himself sang the psalms with His disciples prior to His betrayal in Gethsemane.
Following our Lord’s resurrection and ascension, corporate singing of the psalms and other hymns would become a defining characteristic of Christian liturgy and practice. Early Christian writers frequently write of the universality of psalm-singing in their writings, with the Church historian Eusebius stating that “the command to sing Psalms in the name of the Lord was obeyed by everyone in every place; for the command to sing is in force in all churches which exist among nations, not only the Greeks but also throughout the whole world, and in towns, villages and in the fields.” Similarly, John Chrysostom wrote that “Christians employ themselves in David’s Psalms more frequently than in any other part of the Old or New Testament” and that “Many who know not a letter can say David’s Psalms by heart.”
Moving into the Middle Ages, the church’s liturgy became increasingly structured and formalized, centered around the efforts of the clergy. Throughout Europe, trained choirs became responsible for the chanting of the psalms during services of worship, with largely illiterate congregations listening to the sacred words sung aloud. Nevertheless, the Psalms retained their central significance within the key medieval institution of learning and scholarship: the monastery. In fact, during the Middle Ages, the psalms themselves became a vehicle for education and literacy, as monks learned to read by memorizing the psalms. Upon entering the monastery, young monks would learn to chant the entirety of the psalter. Once learned, they would then match the words of each psalm to the letters seen on the written page. Illuminated manuscripts such as the Utrecht Psalter (mid-ninth century) and the Iona Psalter (late twelfth century) likewise reveal a rich tradition of artistic veneration and adoration of the psalter. Thus, the practice of psalm-singing was not, as some have argued, “forgotten” during the Middle Ages but rather was intensified and concentrated within the spiritual and intellectual culture of monastic life.
Moving into the sixteenth century, the Protestant Reformation centered around the primacy of congregational singing of the psalms. This was not, however, sheer “innovation” instigated by anti-Roman rebels. Instead, congregational psalmody grew out of the Reformers’ consistent concern that worship be conducted according to the principles laid forth in Scripture. Magisterial Reformers such as Martin Bucer and John Calvin historically defended congregational psalmody, appealing to the likes of Augustine, Basil, and Eusebius as well as to the Scriptures themselves. As the first of the Reformers to suggest vernacular, congregational singing, Martin Luther declared that psalms should be sung “so that the Word of God may also be among the people in the form of music.” No longer was the singing of the psalms limited to those holding ecclesiastical office but the shared vocation of a “priesthood of all believers.”
This renewal of congregational psalmody, however, coincided with—and in some sense was influenced by—the violent context of the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Wars of Religion. Texts like the Genevan Psalter and the Scottish Psalter soon became a core part of Reformed identity, culture, and practice in the midst of increasing conflict and persecution. For French Huguenots in particular, the Genevan Psalter became a “providential preparation” and touchstone—a kind of spiritual handbook—for those called to fight and suffer for the sake of the Reformed religion. The same applies for the Scottish Covenanters, many of whom are remembered for singing the psalms even as they went to their deaths during the so-called Killing Times (1680s).
Ultimately, it would be the descendants of these very Scotsmen—along with the New England Puritans of the Massachusetts Bay Colony—who introduced psalm-singing to the new world, where, according to Jonathan Edwards, psalm-singing would play a vital role in stirring up the First Great Awakening during the 1740s-1750s. Reflecting on this revival, Edwards wrote that: “One of the most observable features of the work was the singular delight which all the awakened appeared to take in singing psalms.” Following the American Revolution, the first half of the nineteenth century likewise saw the consolidation and institutionalization of psalmody across denominational lines. With the rising popularity of hymns in the late nineteenth century, however, psalm singing increasingly receded from its former prominence, gradually becoming displaced—especially within Baptist and Methodist communities—by hymnody. Nevertheless, psalm-singing has continued to be preserved, cultivated, and revived among believers particularly within confessionally Reformed communities.
So what does all of this mean for the church today?
To answer this question, we turn (once again) to the past. In a letter of encouragement to Marcellinus, a fourth-century deacon, St. Athanasius of Alexandria reflects on the unique glory of the Psalter. Having fallen ill, Marcellinus had devoted himself to the study of the Scriptures, being drawn particularly to the Psalms, “trying to grasp the inner force and sense” of each psalm. Lauding Marcellinus for his efforts and urging him to continue onward, Athanasius launches into a lengthy, praise-filled discourse on the divine hymnbook. He writes that “the Lord Himself has ordained that the Psalms be sung and recited to a chant.” Among all the books of Scripture, Athanasius declares that it is “the Psalter [that] yields especial treasure.” He likens it to an abundant garden, yielding not only one kind of spiritual fruit but a multiplicity of fruits. And while the entirety of Athanasius’ letter is rich with theological truth and godly reflections, it is his final exhortation that most stands out. He closes the letter urging Marcellinus to read and ponder the Psalms intelligently so that he might “strive to imitate the lives of those God-bearing saints who spoke them at first.”
For Athanasius, as well as for us today, psalm-singing is not simply a theological activity—it is also historical. In addition to praising the Triune God and His works in Creation and Redemption, the Psalms place the present-day Christian in historical and spiritual continuity with the Church of ages past, displaying both the eternal faithfulness of God and the unity of His people. Our singing of the Psalms not only declares our union with Christ but our communion with those united to Him across both time and space. Working against individualistic understandings of salvation, psalm singing is a concrete way of displaying our recognition that Christ’s once-for-all redemptive work applies not only to us in the present. Instead, it transcends time and space entirely, applying to all those who have by faith been united to Him. Viewed in this light, Psalm singing is not merely centered on the present—instead, psalm-singing is an active participation in God’s covenant faithfulness to His church down through the ages. To forget this glorious reality—to stand as Christians merely in the “here and now” rather than the past, present, and future—is to lose sight of that great day when time itself will be no more. Moreover, it is not only us who await this blessed consummation, but those who have gone before us. It is these who sang the psalms before us in temple-courts, in homes, in monasteries, in fields, and even on the scaffold, and it is them who we will join in everlasting song to Christ, the greater David, the One who makes our souls to sing.
