What do we do when we feel like we’re drowning, when we’ve cried so long and so hard that we’re exhausted, when there seems to be no end to the list of people who are out to get us? David, a certified expert-by-reason-of-living-it on hurting, sorrow, wicked enemies, and interpreting life experience in light of who God is, shows us the way forward in Psalm 69. As the Holy Spirit teaches him to pray, he tells God about the pain, prays for God to rescue him, prays for God to judge his enemies, and praises God even now for the way He will rescue His people.
David starts where we often start, with the pain (v. 1-12). He’s about to drown, stuck in quicksand, straining his eyes watching for God to come to his aid, and yet the bad guys keep coming. He hasn’t done anything to deserve enemies, but they still falsely accuse him, and people believe the lies (v. 4). This kind of misery pushes David to reflect on himself, to take realistic stock of his life. Often you and I will get out of balance at this point, either joining in with the enemies in beating ourselves up or getting defensive and seeing only how wonderful we are; instead, an accurate look will see both remaining sin and the good things that God is working in our lives. So David says, “God, You know my foolishness, and my sins are not hidden from You,” and he asks that God’s people wouldn’t be thrown off track by the wrong he has done (v. 5-6)—you and I need to pray likewise. And then David turns and says, “For Your sake I have borne reproach;” my family has deserted me and everyone who hates God hates me because I’m trying to follow God. Is our life marked by such urgent, single-minded love for God that we’re paying a price for it? Jesus says it’s coming if we follow Him (John 15:18-20). In short, David tells God all about his situation—not because God missed out on what is happening (He already knows), but because He invites hurting people to come to Him and trust Him and talk to Him.
Then David begins praying in earnest. He isn’t running to people to fix the problem, isn’t counting on the problem to solve itself; He’s running to the LORD, the covenant-keeping God of Israel, his merciful God, for help (v. 13). As he prays, certain big ideas stand out: “deliver me” (v. 14), “hear me” (v. 16), “do not hide Your face” (v. 17), “draw near to my soul” (v. 18). And, sweetest of all, “You know” (v. 19). Even as he prays fervently and constantly for God to do something, David realizes that God knows his situation intimately; He knows how terrible things are.
And that brings David to the third part of his prayer. When he sees the horrible injustice of what has been done to him, it isn’t enough for the attacks to stop. Justice demands that the guilty be judged. David, believing that when God says He is the one who will bring vengeance on the wicked (Deut. 32:35, Rom. 12:19), asks God to do exactly that (v. 22-28). Rather than seeking his own revenge, David asks that God pour out all sorts of suffering and horror on his enemies—giving them a taste of their own medicine, repaying them for what they have done to people whom God loves. And finally, David asks God to destroy them, not even allowing for repentance (v. 27-28).
Those of us living this side of the cross often squirm when we hear such a prayer. Some have tried to explain this away as a barbaric, ungodly prayer—but that forgets that Scripture is written not only by men, but by men led by the Holy Spirit in a way that ensures these are also the words of God. Others, especially those who have faced horrific abuse and mistreatment and seen no justice in this life, see carte blanche permission to hate their enemies. That isn’t it, either. As people who have been commanded to love our enemies, and as people who have heard Jesus pray for His enemies, “Father, forgive them,” we must do exactly that, praying that our enemies would find forgiveness in the cross of Jesus. And elsewhere David, too, prays for his enemies (Ps. 35:13-14, for example). At the same time, prayers for God’s judgment remind us that God has promised that He will judge unrepentant sin, including those sins done against us. There will be justice, and it is not wrong to long for that day to come: “Come, Lord Jesus!” We are taught to take heart, that even as we pray that these enemies would turn to Christ and find their sins judged at the cross, we know that if they refuse, nothing they have done will be overlooked.
Finally, David turns to praising God for coming rescue (v. 29-36). He is poor and sorrowful, but salvation is coming. Thanking God for His kindness and power is better than sacrifices, and He is worth praising, because He doesn’t ignore weak and helpless people (v. 32-33). All of creation should praise this God, because He takes care of His people—He may not have done so completely yet, but He’s going to.
One last thought: did v. 20-21 sound familiar? A thousand years after David, as Jesus was led out of Jerusalem to be judicially murdered for the crime of being God, He found no comfort, only attackers—slandered by religious people, beaten by soldiers of an oppressing regime, mocked even by criminals on death row, and finally abandoned even by His Father as God counted all of our sins against Christ. When He was thirsty, all they offered Him was a bit of sour vinegar on a dirty sponge. Jesus died with no help in sight. But God raised Him from the dead on the third day; God’s salvation truly did set Him on high (v. 29; see also Ephesians 1:19-21). When we pray to Jesus about undeserved trouble and vicious enemies, He knows—and He has promised to help us trust and obey as we wait for Him to come and bring justice. He will come—He promised that, too.
Grace and peace, Mike Yates