The Song of Vindication

Psalm 35 is the first of the traditional “imprecatory” or “curse” psalms, although that label is very misleading. The biblical authors do not cast curses on their enemies; rather, these psalms are prayers for God to judge the wicked. And by that definition, there are dozens of passages in the Psalms where the psalmists groan under evil deeds and plead with God to act. A better label would be “psalms of anger.” These parts of the Psalms can be provocative and difficult for us to understand, so before we look closely at Psalm 35, I wanted to offer some general guidance for praying these psalms of anger. There have been some, like C.S. Lewis for example, who thought that the imprecatory psalms are at best inappropriate for Christians to pray and at worst evil and bloodthirsty bad examples that show us how we ought not to pray. I think that this is the wrong interpretation, but I admit they are confusing in the whole picture of biblical ethics. How do we square the seemingly vengeful nature of these psalms with the command to love God, love our neighbor, and even to love our enemies? Here are three principles that will point us in the right direction. First, the Psalms assume that the unrepentant wicked should be judged for their evil. We live in a world with homicide and rape, genocide and slavery, fraud and abuse, a world where casual cruelty and selfish arrogance leave the vulnerable crushed underfoot, a world in which all of these evils can leave us traumatized and fearful for generations. In this kind of world, why wouldn’t we ask God to put a stop to these things? Repeatedly throughout the Psalms and the wider Scriptures, the wicked who repent from their ways and humble themselves before God can receive mercy and forgiveness, but those who continue in evil should raise in us a righteous indignation. The bad guys should be stopped. This leads into the second principle: we must remember that these psalms are prayers. The psalmists do not take vengeance for injustice into their own hands. Rather, they bring their laments, their pain, their grief to the One who is not vengeful but good and righteous. It’s a longing for justice to prevail in the universe. Justice in the Bible is God giving everyone — both the holy and the unholy — exactly what they deserve, and he alone is the Judge who can do this perfectly. One commentator put it this way: “The psalmists’ faith in God’s goodness is still intact, even though their faith in human beings has taken a downward plunge.” Finally, Christians can look to the suffering servant, Jesus, who experienced the worst injustice ever committed so that we — evil and wicked sinners though we are — might find mercy. Justice was done on the cross, and God’s wrath was satisfied by his atonement. In light of the cross, there is no contradiction between justice on our enemies and love for our enemies. We want God’s grace to change them, but if they will not change, then we want God’s hand to stop them. All that being said, I know that these are not easy prayers for us, so let’s look at how this works out in Psalm 35.

Psalm 35 has three prayers of lament that all end with a word of hope and assurance. The first section, verses 1-10, starts with a flurry of combative language: “Contend, O LORD, with those who contend with me; fight against those who fight against me! Take hold of shield and buckler and rise for my help! Draw the spear and javelin against my pursuers! Say to my soul, ‘I am your salvation!’” These are obviously military metaphors, including both offensive weapons and defensive armor, and the word “contend” also comes from the legal realm. We’re not meant to take these images literally (although they could be), but as in many psalms we’re supposed to see in David’s example our own situations of conflict. David asks for God to fight for him, to be reliable, to reassure him that salvation comes from God alone. St. Augustine compared these verses to the disciples in the storm with the sleeping Jesus, anxiously shouting for him to wake up and act. From that place of desperation, David turns his anger toward his enemies. He specifically prays that they would experience shame, dishonor, and public disgrace for the wrong they have done. He echoes Psalm 1 by picturing the wicked as chaff on the wind, the useless husks of grain blowing away and trampled in the dust. David intensifies his indignation with two images of “the angel of the LORD” (which is a phrase that only appears in Psalm 34 and this psalm in the whole book of Psalms). David wants the divine army of God to turn the tables and pursue the pursuers, catching them in their own net. Most striking is the prayer of verse 6: “Let their way be dark and slippery,” which has the feeling of liquid slime drowning one’s foes. That picture connects to the final statement of hope because it repeats some key phrases from Moses’ Song of the Sea in Exodus 15: “Then my soul will rejoice in the LORD, exulting in his salvation. All my bones shall say, ‘O LORD, who is like you, delivering the poor from him who is too strong for him, the poor and needy from him who robs him?’” Just as Israel saw the pursuing Egyptians surprised and caught in their own doom by the waters of the sea, so David longs for God to entangle his enemies in their own evil deeds. There is no God like the LORD, the perfect Judge who will restore public vindication and joy to his persecuted people.

The second prayer of Psalm 35 is more personal in its pain: “Malicious witnesses rise up; they ask me of things that I do not know. They repay me evil for good; my soul is bereft.” That last line has the sense of bereavement, grief, and loss. Along with the word “contend” from verse 1, the mention of witnesses brings to mind enemies that twist and abuse the legal system to get their way. David is experiencing a miscarriage of justice, a campaign of false witnesses who will say whatever it takes to harm the godly. The deepest hurt, however, comes because it didn’t have to be this way; David tells a story of doing good to these people and then receiving back nothing but betrayal: “But I, when they were sick — I wore sackcloth; I afflicted myself with fasting; I prayed with head bowed on my chest. I went about as though I grieved for my friend or my brother; as one who laments his mother, I bowed down in mourning. But at my stumbling they rejoiced and gathered; they gathered together against me; wretches whom I did not know tore at me without ceasing; like profane mockers at a feast, they gnash at me with their teeth.” Such vivid images! Here was a king who prayed for his subjects’ behalf, who wept for them when they suffered, who treated them as family, but they turned into savage beasts who ripped him apart at the first opportunity. One scholar commented, “It is as though the Samaritan himself now fell among thieves, only to find his former protege his chief tormentor.” Mob violence ruled the day, and any sense of fairness or loyalty was abandoned. No wonder David ends this section by praying, “How long, O Lord, will you look on? Rescue me from their destruction, my precious life from the lions! I will thank you in the great congregation; in the mighty throng I will praise you.” It would be tempting for any of us to grow bitter after being betrayed by a friend. Resentment can fester, self-pity can turn into plots for revenge, and righteous anger can turn into simmering rage. Yet David responds by crying out to God. He pleads for God to act and rescue. He knows that the Lord will do so, so he still thanks God even amidst this treachery. When the lions gnash their teeth and we are thrown into their den by those we thought we could trust, God has the power to shut the lions’ mouths.

Psalm 35 ends with one final prayer, this time against gloating enemies. “Let not those rejoice over me who are wrongfully my foes, and let not those wink the eye who hate me without cause. For they do not speak peace, but against those who are quiet in the land they devise words of deceit. They open wide their mouths against me; they say, ‘Aha, Aha! Our eyes have seen it!’” These sorts of people are easy to imagine: the scheming, the bombastic bravado, the snake-like suggestions of falsehood. This is the third time we read the central idea of evil done to the innocent “without cause.” There’s no justification for behavior like this. It’s wrong, plain and simple. In the last psalm, we heard the wise teacher advise, “seek peace and pursue it,” but in this psalm, David’s enemies “do not speak peace.” It’s like we get a portrait of the fools who reject the wisdom of the LORD. Their false witness claims, “Aha! We’ve seen you do evil!” But the very next verse flips it around: “You have seen, O LORD; be not silent! O Lord, be not far from me!” God sees through the smoke and mirrors; his knowledge of the truth pierces through lies. It’s on this quality of God that we appeal to him as the Judge, because he always has all the evidence. David goes on to pray for his vindication, which means to prove his innocence. Court is in session, LORD, so make a just ruling! Distinguish truth from lies, light from darkness, good from evil! When justice is done, the arrogant who puffed themself up by crushing the righteous will be brought down low. And then, after the Judge speaks, those who have been vindicated will celebrate: “Let those who delight in my righteousness shout for joy and be glad and say evermore, ‘Great is the LORD, who delights in the welfare of his servant!’” The contrast here is between those who exalt themselves and those who proclaim that the LORD is exalted. In a psalm filled with strife and betrayal, it’s moving to picture David surrounded by those who delight in his righteous cause. He’s not alone. He is loved. The last verse is another callback to Psalm 1: “Then my tongue shall tell of your righteousness and of your praise all the day long.” The word tell is the Hebrew word hagah, which is sometimes translated as meditate or murmur. The idea is that David will continue to experience opposition and injustice, but he will repeat under his breath the story of God’s deeds. That truth can ground us in righteousness no matter what comes our way.