Psalm 21 is another psalm almost certainly not
written by David, but rather written in his honor, unless we can imagine King
David speaking of himself in the third person. But why would he, when in other
places (like Psalm 51) he speaks in the first person?
The first part of this psalm is all right, as it
speaks of the king rejoicing in Godās strength. We all need to find our
strength in the Lord.
The problem comes in the second half of the
psalmā¦.
Your hand will find out all your enemies;
your right hand will find out those who hate you.
You will make them like a fiery furnace when you
appear.
The Lord will swallow them up in his wrath,
and fire will consume them.
You will destroy their offspring from the earth, and
their children from among humankind.
It is understandable that those who reject God,
those who are his āenemies,ā will one day be utterly separated from him if they
persist in their rejection. But does God really want to burn them in a fiery
furnace and swallow them in his wrath? Even if we can imagine the need for God
to do this with someone like a Hitler, why would God want to destroy the
offspring of the wicked from the earth? Why this vengeance against children?
I can only conclude that this is the attitude of
the psalmist, not of God, for I cannot square this picture of God with the
picture we have been given of God in Jesus of Nazareth. Here the psalmist
exults in Godās power alone; there is nothing of Godās love for the entire
world (John 3:16).
In fact, the contrast to this picture of God is
given in the very next psalm. We all know that Jesus quoted Psalm 22 on the
cross. But what a difference it makes when one views Psalm 22 in contrast to Psalm
21. In Psalm 21, we have a God who kills his enemies. In Psalm 22, as taken
upon the lips of Jesus, we have a picture of a God who dies for his enemies.
Personally, I choose to follow the one who spoke the words of Psalm 22 from the
cross, and not the God depicted in Psalm 21. (I have a sermon on Psalm 22 here:
http://willvaus.com/psalms.)
When most people think of the Psalms, the words
of Psalm 23 are probably the first thing that comes to their minds, and deservedly
so, for it is, for the most part, a beautiful psalm. One thing that always
strikes me about this psalm is that the psalmist walks through the valley of the shadow of death. God does not dump us in
the valley. He always leads us through.
But even so beautiful a psalm as this one is not
without its disagreeable bit. We are so overly familiar with this psalm that we
probably miss it. But the ugly part is in verse five. C. S. Lewis explainsā¦.
Worst of all in āThe Lord is my shepherdā (23), after the
green pasture, the waters of comfort, the sure confidence in the valley of the
shadow, we suddenly run across (5)
āThou shalt prepare a table for me against
them that trouble meāāor, as Dr. Moffatt translates it, āThou art my host,
spreading a feast for me while my enemies
have to look on.ā The poetās enjoyment of his present prosperity would not
be complete unless those horrid Joneses (who used to look down their noses at
him) were watching it all and hating it. This may not be so diabolical as the
passages I have quoted above; but the pettiness and vulgarity of it, especially
in such surroundings, are hard to endure.
So what do we do with bits of the psalms like
this one? Do we just set it to one side and forget about it, or is there some
way it can still act upon us as āthe word of Godā? I opt for the latter
approach, though it is sometimes difficult to see our way through to it. In
this case, I take such bits of the Psalms as 23:5 as a reminder of the same
rotten attitude that sometimes appears in my own heart. What am I to do when I
have this vengeful type of attitude toward āmy enemiesā? One thing I can do is
remember that the Jesus who quoted Psalm 22 on the cross also died for these
enemies of mine. Furthermore, my own sins for which Jesus died are certainly no better
and possibly worse than some of my enemiesā sins. In fact, I need to allow this
vengeful, unforgiving attitude toward my enemies to be crucified.
In practical terms you may ask: āHow is this
done?ā I can only tell you what has worked for me. At times when I find this
wrong attitude in my heart toward my enemies, I pray the Lordās Prayer. And
when I come to the part, āForgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who
trespass against us,ā I say to the Lord, āI forgive so and so.ā At first, I do
this with no feeling whatsoever. It is done merely as an exercise, by force of
will, realizing that if I do not forgive my enemies, my Lord will not, cannot,
forgive me. In some cases, after going through this exercise day after day,
perhaps for months, eventually my hatred dissipates, and I am able, actually,
to let go of the offense, and even pray for my enemiesā redemption. Forgiveness
is a process, sometimes a lifelong one. And sometimes that process begins by
seeing in the Psalms as in a mirror the same awful hatred that I hold in my own
heart.
Psalm 24 is, I think, a wholly beautiful psalm,
and is in fact one of my favorites. āThe earth is the Lordās and all that is in
it.ā When we lived in Ireland, Merrie Gresham had this verse posted in her
greenhouse. I always think of that, and the sheer goodness of Godās creation,
when I think of this verse.
Once again, the psalmist asks an important
question here: āWho shall ascend the hill of the Lord?ā The answer is: āThose
who have clean hands and pure hearts.ā I am reminded once again that the Lord
Jesus is the only one with clean hands and a pure heart. In fact, I cannot help
but think of Jesus when I read verses seven through ten. I think of Jesus
triumphantly entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday through the Beautiful Gate. I
think of Jesus going to the Temple and cleansing it. Then I think of how Jesus
needs to come in and cleanse the Temple of my heart.
Lift up your heads, O gates!
And be lifted up, O ancient doors!
That the King of glory may come in.
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