Where we are in the story: Psalm 18
Preface: Thanks to Dan Strange for delivering a great seminar on Salvation in the Theology Network track of Word Alive 2019! I learnt a lot, and that's reflected in my thoughts on Psalm 18 here. As you read, I pray Psalm 19:14 "May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer."
Also note that you'd probably have to read Psalm 18 before reading this piece...
[Photograph: Pixabay]
It’s rare to
kind of confuse characters in a story and actually be quite right about being confused.
That’s much the case in parts of the Bible, particularly the Old Testament. Our
confusion of the characters is a sign of the incomprehensible wisdom in God’s saving work: passages
that were foreshadowing the work of Jesus redeeming us, can often be applied
similarly to us who have died to ourselves and are now bound to him, receiving
the promises of God through him (2 Corinthians 1:20).
The common passage
used to illustrate this confusion of the parallel identities of characters in Old
Testament accounts, is that of David and Goliath (1 Samuel 17): we automatically place
ourselves as the valiant David with so much faith to go with slingshots in the
name of our God, and strike the enemy down. But is that really us? Or are we
more akin to the scared Israelites looking over at the tough Philistines, too
afraid to go and fight—and indeed, unable to conquer them? The Israelites were paralysed
and awaiting the final loss and enslavement to the Philistines, which is really
the state of despair that we are in, whether we admit it or not, drowning in our
unconquerable sin and, whether we know it or not, sitting helplessly in death
row. But David, God’s Anointed One, foreshadowing Jesus Christ, goes out,
one man on our behalf, and fights Goliath, leaving him dead. David’s victory
was the Israelites’ victory. Jesus’s victory is ours. And so seeing the account
of David and Goliath in this proper way, with the proper identities, is richer
and actually more encouraging. We don’t need to inflate our egos and compare
ourselves to David. We can admit we are the scared and helpless
Israelites—which is the reality—and hope in the saving work of Jesus on our
behalf.
A passage in which this confusion of identities happens beautifully is Psalm 18, a bold and uplifting
psalm. Just a few years ago I remember reading it personally at a church camp
and feeling (rightly) emboldened by it, but that boldness was limited: it was limited
by verses such as verses 20–24 which stipulated that the blessings of Psalm 18
depended on the speaker’s righteousness: “The LORD has dealt with me according
to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands he has rewarded me.
For I have kept the ways of the LORD; I am not guilty of turning from my God.
All his laws are before me; I have not turned away from his decrees. I have
been blameless before him and have kept myself from sin. The LORD has rewarded
me according to my righteousness, according to the cleanness of my hands in his
sight.” Is this so true of me? Nope, it is actually profoundly untrue of
me. Even more starkly and clearly than my proud approximation of myself to the valiant
David, the words “blameless” and having “kept myself from sin” are nowhere in
sight for me. Maybe the speaker of the psalm—the recipient of these emboldening
blessings—isn’t first of all me, but first of all someone else.
Verse 50 makes
it clear: “He gives his king great victories; he shows unfailing love to
his anointed; to David and his descendants forever.” Is that surely me? How
flattering to put myself as king, the very anointed one of God—but I don’t think
I’m an obvious candidate for this role in the story. Because we are attuned to quick
uplifting self-help encouragements from the Bible, we are tuned to the most
immediately feelgood interpretation of the text, so of course I’d put myself as
the valiant king who was saved by the hand of God, who can now “advance against
a troop” and “scale a wall” (verse 29).
But this neglects God’s justice:
we know God is just, and we desire that he be just, for we do desire for evil to
be repaid and for wronged ones to be avenged for, by our just and sovereign God.
But to be “dealt with … according to my righteousness”—as our just God does—would
make my reception of Psalm 18’s blessings conditional on my adherence to God’s
law. And I know I’ve been unfaithful. I know I’m far from blameless, far
from having kept myself from sin. So what’s there to be encouraged by? If
anything, this psalm makes me more acutely aware of my falling short of
qualifying for these blessings. How is this tangle of despair encouraging
at all? The Gospel is the key.
Jesus is God’s Anointed One, the
King (e.g. Revelation 17:14). David, who speaks this psalm, is a prototype, so
to speak, of Jesus: a figure that is not Jesus at all, but occupies Jesus’s
role in the grand universal narrative of salvation: God’s anointed king leading
his people Israel. And Psalm 18 tells the story of Jesus’s life. Does this seem
weird? Weirder still it would seem that Jesus spoke the words of Psalm 22:1, “My
God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”, which, unless Jesus had spoken it
himself (Matthew 27:46), we would have automatically attributed to our own personal
trials and not to a narrative of Jesus’s saving work on the Cross. Psalm 18 speaks
of how our Triune God effected salvation: Jesus went to the Cross for our sins,
whereupon “[t]he cords of death entangled [him]; the torrents of destruction
overwhelmed [him]. The cords of the grave coiled around [him]; the snares of
death confronted [him].” Just as Jesus called to the Father whilst on the
Cross, Psalm 18:6 narrates, “I cried to my God for help.”
And help came in unspeakable power,
verses 6–15 surging with awe-filled visuals, such as “The LORD thundered from
heaven; the voice of the Most High resounded.” Ultimately the speaker of the
psalm was vindicated: “He rescued me from my powerful enemy” (verse 17). Foreshadowing
the work of Christ, this powerful enemy was the sting of death—the wages of sin
(Romans 6:23)—piercing his flesh on our behalf (Isaiah 53:5). And this
salvation was effected justly, according to the righteousness
(verse 24) of Christ. If we had been under that powerful enemy, we couldn’t
have been saved because that salvation had to be according to our
righteousness; if, otherwise, we were saved despite our profound depravity
and unrighteousness, would not God cease to be just; would he not cease to
treat evil as a just God would, pronouncing his wrath upon it? But because it
is Jesus, the righteous God incarnate, facing the powerful enemy, the Father effected
the salvation justly according to Jesus’s righteousness. And so he was vindicated:
As 1 Timothy 3:16 reads, “…He appeared in the flesh, was vindicated by the Spirit,
was seen by angels, was preached among the nations, was believed on in the world,
was taken up in glory.” (emphasis added) And as 1 Peter 3:18 reads, “For Christ
also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to
God. He was put to death in the body but made alive in the Spirit.”
(emphasis added)
Jesus was raised to life in the
way Psalm 18 narrates: justly, because it was consistent with Jesus’s
righteousness; winning a victory, “I beat them as fine as windblown dust; I
trampled them like mud in the streets.” (verse 42); inaugurating a kingdom, “You have delivered me
from the attacks of the people; you have made me the head of nations.” (verse
43). Hebrews 2:9 presents this narrative similarly, “But we do see Jesus, who
was made lower than the angels for a little while, now crowned with glory and
honour because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste
death for everyone.”
And Psalm 18’s blessings upon Jesus,
the Anointed King, are transferred to us who are united to Christ. Even though
we are unrighteous and have failed to keep ourselves from sinning (Romans 3:23),
through faith in Jesus, we receive these blessings that were conferred on him,
and on us through him. Romans 4:23–25 makes clear that Christ’s righteousness
is imputed on us: “The words ‘it was credited to him’ were written not for him
alone, but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness—for us who
believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. He was delivered over
to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification.” (emphasis
added)
Therefore our hope is more
secure than ever, and this psalm should be much more emboldening than if we
read ourselves into the speaker of the psalm, because we can be honest that
verses 20–24 do not describe us. But we can be certain that they do describe Jesus;
and Jesus, having died on the Cross and having been vindicated by the Spirit, has
atoned for our sins (Hebrews 2:17), and has allowed us to receive the promises
of God (2 Corinthians 1:20).
The Cross brings us close to God and
stands us up to receive the promises of God, to be treated the way the blessed victorious
speaker of Psalm 18 was treated, according to Christ’s righteousness. Therefore
we can now see what is meant by 1 Corinthians 1:18: “For the message of the Cross
is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it
is the power of God.” (emphasis added) Why was the Cross necessary? So that
the promises of our just God could mercifully be conferred on us despite our unrighteousness.
We can therefore read Psalm 18 without guilt rearing its head as we skim verses 20–24 awkwardly, but rather, we can read it in boldness knowing that it speaks
truth of us: we receive these blessings from the Father because Jesus has achieved
this standing for us.
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More verses to think about, which sadly didn't make it into this already long piece:
2 Corinthians 1:19–21 “For the
Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was preached among you by us—by me and Silas and Timothy—was
not ‘Yes’ and ‘No,’ but in him it has always been ‘Yes.’ For no matter how many
promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so through him the ‘Amen’
is spoken by us to the glory of God. Now it is God who makes both us and you
stand firm in Christ.” I always struggled to figure out what this means. I think
it means that because Christ has reconciled us to God, we receive God’s
promises justly.
John 10:2–3 “[Jesus said] ‘The
one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens
the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by
name and leads them out.’” To be united with Christ means to be his sheep, to
follow his voice, to have faith in him as sheep led by their Shepherd.
Galatians 2:20 “I have been
crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I
now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave
himself for me.” Let’s press on to be living as those united to Jesus, recipients
of God’s promises.
