When Brothers Actually Get Along (Imagine That!)
What’s Psalm 133 about?
This short but powerful psalm celebrates the rare and beautiful sight of brothers living in genuine harmony. David uses two vivid images—expensive oil and morning dew—to show us that unity isn’t just nice to have, it’s actually life-giving and blessed by God himself.
The Full Context
Psalm 133 sits right in the middle of what scholars call the “Songs of Ascents”—fifteen psalms (Psalms 120-134) that Jewish pilgrims would sing as they traveled up to Jerusalem for the major festivals. Picture thousands of families walking dusty roads together, their voices carrying these ancient melodies across the hills. By the time they reached Psalm 133, they’d been singing about longing for peace, protection from enemies, and trusting in God’s faithfulness. This psalm would have hit differently after days of actual travel with extended family and fellow pilgrims—because let’s be honest, even the most loving families can get on each other’s nerves during long road trips.
The historical context makes this even more poignant. David wrote this during a time when Israel was finally unified under his kingship, after generations of tribal conflict and civil war. The northern and southern tribes had been at each other’s throats, brother literally fighting brother. So when David celebrates unity among “brothers,” he’s not just talking about family dynamics—he’s celebrating something that seemed almost impossible in his world. The literary structure is beautifully simple: one central truth (unity is good) supported by two unforgettable word pictures that would have immediately resonated with his ancient audience.
What the Ancient Words Tell Us
The Hebrew word for “good” here is tov—the same word God uses in Genesis when he looks at creation and declares it “good.” But David doesn’t stop there. He adds na’im, which means “pleasant” or “delightful.” It’s the kind of word you’d use to describe a perfect meal or a beautiful sunset. Together, these words paint unity not as some grim duty we have to endure, but as something genuinely delightful to experience.
Grammar Geeks
The phrase “dwell together” uses the Hebrew verb yashav, which doesn’t just mean hanging out occasionally. It implies settling down, making a permanent home, choosing to stay put. David isn’t celebrating the occasional family barbecue where everyone gets along—he’s talking about the deep, committed choice to build life together.
But here’s where it gets interesting. The word “brothers” (achim) can mean biological brothers, but in David’s world, it often referred to fellow Israelites, members of the covenant community. So this isn’t just about family harmony—it’s about what happens when God’s people choose to live as the unified community they’re called to be.
The comparison to “precious oil” uses the Hebrew word shemen, which specifically refers to the expensive, fragrant oil used in religious ceremonies. This isn’t cooking oil we’re talking about—this is the good stuff, the kind that would cost a month’s wages and fill an entire room with its fragrance.
What Would the Original Audience Have Heard?
When David’s audience heard “precious oil on the head, running down on the beard,” they would have immediately thought of Aaron’s ordination as high priest. Picture the scene: Moses takes this incredibly expensive, specially prepared oil and pours it over Aaron’s head in front of the entire community. But here’s what makes it visceral—ancient Middle Eastern men took serious pride in their beards. A well-groomed, oil-perfumed beard was a sign of dignity and blessing.
Did You Know?
The anointing oil used for priests was made from expensive spices like myrrh, cinnamon, and cassia, mixed with olive oil. According to rabbinic calculations, the recipe in Exodus 30:22-25 would have been worth thousands of dollars in today’s money. When this oil ran down Aaron’s beard, everyone would have smelled it—and known something sacred was happening.
The second image—dew of Hermon falling on the mountains of Zion—would have been just as powerful. Mount Hermon, in the far north of Israel, was famous for its incredibly heavy dew. We’re talking about moisture so thick it could soak your clothes overnight. But here’s the thing: Hermon is about 120 miles from Jerusalem. Meteorologically speaking, Hermon’s dew doesn’t actually fall on Zion. So what’s David doing?
He’s painting an impossible picture—imagine if the life-giving moisture from the most fertile mountain in Israel somehow reached all the way to Jerusalem. That’s what unity does: it brings life and blessing in ways that seem to defy natural limitations.
How This Changes Everything
Unity isn’t just a nice idea—it’s literally life-giving. Both of David’s images point to the same truth: when God’s people choose to live in harmony, something supernatural happens. The expensive oil doesn’t just sit on Aaron’s head; it flows down, covering him completely, filling the space around him with fragrance. The dew doesn’t just dampen the ground; it brings life to everything it touches.
“Unity among God’s people isn’t just the absence of conflict—it’s the presence of something so beautiful and life-giving that it changes the very atmosphere around us.”
But let’s be real for a moment. David isn’t painting some unrealistic picture where everyone agrees on everything all the time. The Hebrew concept of shalom (the peace that comes with unity) doesn’t mean the absence of differences—it means wholeness despite differences. It’s brothers who know each other’s flaws, who’ve had their arguments and disagreements, but who choose to remain committed to each other and to building something together.
Wrestling with the Text
Here’s what strikes me as I read this psalm: David makes unity sound almost magical. Oil that flows down beards, dew that travels impossible distances, life and blessing that seem to appear out of nowhere. Is he being overly optimistic? Is this just ancient poetry, or is there something we’re missing?
Wait, That’s Strange…
Why does David use two images that are both about things flowing downward? The oil flows down from Aaron’s head to his beard to his garments. The dew falls from the heights of Hermon. Maybe the point is that true unity, like blessing itself, always starts from above—from God—and then flows naturally to everything it touches.
I think David understood something we often miss: unity isn’t something we manufacture through effort or good intentions. It’s something that happens when we position ourselves rightly—when we let God’s blessing flow through our relationships instead of trying to create harmony through our own willpower.
The phrase “for there the Lord commanded the blessing” is crucial here. The Hebrew word for “commanded” (tzivah) is the same word used for God’s creative commands in Genesis. When God commands something, it doesn’t just happen—it becomes part of the natural order. David is saying that when brothers dwell in unity, they’re positioning themselves to receive something God has built into the very fabric of reality.
Key Takeaway
Unity among God’s people isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity for life and blessing. When we choose to build and maintain harmony in our relationships, we’re not just being nice; we’re creating space for God to do something supernatural through us.
Further Reading
Internal Links:
External Scholarly Resources:
- The Psalms: A Commentary by James Luther Mays
- Psalms 73-150 by John Goldingay
- Songs of Ascents: A Pilgrim Songbook by John H. Walton
Tags
Psalm 133, unity, brotherhood, community, blessing, Aaron, Mount Hermon, Songs of Ascents, David, harmony, peace, fellowship, covenant community, shalom, biblical community
