Shepherd song

The world tells us we’re masters of our own fate, responsible to create a satisfying life for ourselves. David knows that doesn’t work—that we find contentment only in the care of the God whose love is unfailing.

A David psalm.

¹ With Yahveh as my shepherd
I lack nothing.
² He lays me down in lush, green fields
leads me beside peaceful pools
³ and restores my soul.
Good shepherd that he is
he guides me always in the true path.
⁴ Even walking through the valley of deathly dark
I fear nothing with you beside me:
your rod and your staff
they comfort me.

⁵ You spread a rich feast before me
in full view of my enemies
massage my head with fragrant oil
and pour my cup brimful of blessings.
⁶ Your goodness and love chase me down
every day of my life
and Yahveh’s house will be my home
for days and years without end.

Used to depict brutal kings in the ancient world, the image of shepherd here pictures the strong but gentle Yahveh in whose loving care we experience the good life. Characterized by rest and contentment, that life isn’t about learning to make do so much as about being centered in God, seeing his goodness in every situation—that he’s here for us now. Freedom, abundance, and peace are all internal conditions depending on nothing but our shepherd-king’s unswerving commitment. Without that, no amount of anything satisfies.

God doesn’t offer us a problem-free existence, but truly letting God be God yields a worry-free life, even facing death.[1] With him on our side, we’re freed to live life joyfully, fully alive, despite life’s brokenness and pain. God provides all we need and guides and protects us with fierce gentleness.

Yahveh publicly honors David as his guest when the enemies so prominent in the preceding psalms surround him. Saul once welcomed David into his household, only later to let envy sabotage their relationship. Like David, we need never fear being disenfranchised by God. His goodness and grace pursue us relentlessly. They, not our circumstances or false sense of control, are the sole basis of true peace. And they’ll remain long after life’s brokenness and pain are gone. Our true home.

I choose to be where you have me now, Good Shepherd, content to be me. Not harried or chafing that I’m not somewhere, something, or somehow else. Not weighed down by my past or needing my future to validate my present. Calm in your commitment to me. Overflowing with thanks. Amen.

[1] The psalm’s chiasm highlights David’s center point of Yahveh’s care for him facing death: A: No lack in Yahveh’s care (v. 1), B: Physical provisions (v. 2), C: Security (v. 3), D: No fear of death (v. 4a), C: Security (v. 4b), B: Physical provisions (v. 5), A: No lack (ever!) in Yahveh’s care (v. 6).

For the abandoned of the earth 

A David psalm. 

¹ My God, my God
why have you deserted me?
Why are you always out of earshot
however loud I roar?
² All day long I call, God
but you don’t answer.
Nor do I let up at night
but you grant me no relief. 

³ Yet you’re enthroned as the Holy One
the object of Israel’s praises.
⁴ Our ancestors put their trust in you—
they trusted and you saved them.
⁵ They cried to you and were rescued—
they trusted and you never shamed them.

⁶ But I’m a worm, subhuman
a blot on the earth, despised by people!
⁷ All who see me shake their heads
gape and sneer:
⁸ “He trusts in Yahveh.
So why doesn’t Yahveh save him?
If he’s so keen on him
let him rescue him now!”

 ⁹ You were the midwife
who brought me out of my mother’s womb
and laid me safely on her breast.
¹⁰ You gave me my very first breath
so there’s never been a time
when you weren’t my God.
¹¹ Don’t stand aloof from me
now that trouble has found me here
helpless and alone! 

¹² Massive bulls rage around me
monstrous bulls from Bashan
snorting, breathing on me.
¹³ Ravenous lions roar in my face
their powerful jaws gaping.
¹⁴ I’m spilt like water on the ground
my bones all unhinged
my heart melted like wax inside me
¹⁵ my strength shrivelled to nothing
my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth
here where you’ve laid me out
in the dust of death.

 ¹⁶ A pack of wild dogs has surrounded me
a gang of thugs has closed in
puncturing my hands and feet.
¹⁷ I count all my bones
while people gawk and stare.
¹⁸ They divide my garments among them
and roll the dice for my clothes. 

¹⁹ But you, Yahveh
don’t distance yourself from me—
hurry and help me, my strength!
²⁰ Save my life from the sword
from these snarling dogs!
²¹ Save me from the lions’ jaws
from the bulls’ horns!

²² I’ll tell all my family
what you’ve done
praise you before everyone worshipping.
²³ Praise Yahveh, all you who fear him!
Honor him, Jacob’s descendants!
Revere him, Israel’s posterity!
²⁴ Because he didn’t despise or shun
the destitute with all his troubles.
He didn’t turn away aloof
but when he cried out to him for help
he heard him.

²⁵ So my praise will overflow
when the whole community meets together.
I’ll keep my vows for all who worship to see.
²⁶ The poor will feast to their heart’s content
and all who seek Yahveh will praise him.
“May such plenty be yours always!” 

²⁷ The whole world
will acknowledge Yahveh and return to him.
Every people from every race on earth
will bow low before him.
²⁸ Because all power and authority
belong to Yahveh.
He reigns supreme over the nations!
²⁹ Earth’s wealthy will feast and worship.
Every mortal will bow in reverence before him
including those just hanging by a thread.
³⁰ On hearing what Yahveh has done
our children will give their allegiance too.
³¹ They in turn will announce
his faithfulness to those yet unborn—
the good news of what he’s done.

Despite its anguished opening, this psalm expresses David’s faith powerfully, taking us all the way from dark despair to radiant joy. Simply by faith. David’s opening lines—made famous by Jesus’s utterance of them on the cross[1]—voice his lived reality. His anger gives some of his words a raw, even rude, edge.[2] But he’s not just railing. He’s desperately begging the God who repeatedly rescued Israel—the only God he’s ever known—to come help him. David describes his own helplessness and humiliation and his enemies’ inhumanity and indifference. Not only are they near and God far away. God has left him in the dust to die.

Then suddenly in verse 22, David shifts from despair to hope. Nothing in his situation has changed. Just his focus, remembering what God is like. Unlike the gods, who shun the destitute, Yahveh cares and hears, and his amazing compassion is fully equalled by his authority. He’s in complete command of the planet. So, David imagines his deliverance and him praising God and fulfilling his vows before everyone, with feasting and joy. He sees it leading ultimately to the universal acknowledgment of God’s greatness and a faith that cascades down through future generations.

Lord, thank you that, as with David, you help me make sense of my story. Help me to believe that, even when I feel abandoned by you, your compassion and authority are more real than anything else in my situation. Help me to call out to you till the day my joy overflows in praise. Amen.

[1] Christian readers often assume that this psalm was intended as a prophecy concerning Jesus. In fact, David wrote about his own plight, although that doesn’t mean it doesn’t also fit the supreme example of God-forsakenness perfectly. Inspired poetry always speaks to far more than it knows.

[2] Anyone uncomfortable with David’s “hyperbole” here should recall God’s candid admission in Isaiah 54:7: “I abandoned you for a short time.” God goes on to say, “but with great compassion I will bring you back.” It is God’s post-abandonment compassion that David prays for here.

Joyful in God’s strength

Praise for deliverance. A David psalm. 

¹ The king[a] celebrates your strength, Yahveh
he bursts out into song over your deliverance.

² You’ve given him his heart’s desire
withholding nothing he asked for.

³ You’ve lavished rich blessings on him
and set a crown of pure gold on his head.
⁴ He asked you to spare his life
and you not only did that
—you made his life full and free too.
⁵ The victories you’ve given him
have brought him great glory
and clothed him with splendor and majesty.
⁶ You’ve given him
an endless succession of blessings
and his joy overflows
at the sight of your face.

⁷ Upheld by the Most High’s unfailing love
the king trusts in Yahveh
with unfaltering faith.

⁸ You track down all your enemies
your strong hand seizes all who hate you.
⁹ When you appear in battle
you turn them into a blazing furnace.
Yahveh’s anger swallows them up
like consuming fire.
¹⁰ You wipe out all their descendants
remove all trace of them from the earth.
¹¹ Since they plotted against you
devising evil schemes
they never succeed.
¹² When you take deadly aim at them
they turn tail and flee.

¹³ Move out, Yahveh, in all your mighty power!
We’ll sing and celebrate your strength.

As Psalm 20 preceded battle, this psalm follows victory in battle. Perfectly symmetrical, it begins and ends with celebration of Yahveh’s strength (vv. 1, 13). The psalm’s central couplet grounds the whole psalm in covenantal trust and love (v. 7). Israel’s earthly king overcomes powerful enemies in the strength of Israel’s heavenly king because both are faithful to the covenant. David’s faith doesn’t falter because Yahveh’s unfailing love upholds him.

Five Hebrew couplets preceding verse 7 detail covenant blessings (vv. 2-6) and five following it curses (vv. 8-12). David represents Israel’s true—i.e., heavenly—king and leads his armies in battle against those who seek to crush the fledgling nation. Because David trusts him, God spares his life, crowns him and endows him with his own royal attributes: majesty, glory and splendor. David also represents the nation before God and, so, receives Israel’s covenant blessings. God smiles on him, filling him with joy. And because David trusts him, God empowers him to enact divine curses on those who curse God’s people and try to subvert his rule.[b] With warfare ongoing, the final verse urges God to continue the battle and promises that his people will praise him when he does.

Lord, you’ve overcome evil even though it often feels the night is here to stay. If I trust in you, the darkness can’t put out your light shining in me. May your unfailing love keep my faith from faltering. Empower me to shine your light in the darkness around me, with joy, I pray. Amen.

[a] Interestingly, Jewish scholars were divided over whether the psalm referred to King David or the Messiah, the Midrash taking the former position and the Targum the latter (Goldingay, 2006, 313).

[b] Gen. 12:3. Commentators disagree over whether verses 8-12 refer to Israel’s divine or its human king. Goldingay argues—rightly, I think—that they refer specifically to God (2006, 316). But the issue seems almost moot since, as Craigie points out, the psalmist suggests a fusion of the two kings (1983, 193). Israel’s human king and its divine king are so entwined by verse 7 that we can view them as acting in tandem in the verses following.

The battle is the Lord’s

A David psalm.

¹ May Yahveh answer you
on the day of distress.[a]
May Jacob’s God
lift you high above danger.
² May he send you help from his sanctuary
and strengthen you from Zion.
³ May he recall all your offerings
and delight in your sacrifices.
⁴ May he give you your heart’s desire
and fulfill all your plans.
⁵ We’ll raise the roof
when we hear of your deliverance.
We’ll celebrate what God has done
with a parade, banners, the works.
May Yahveh give you
everything you ask for!

⁶ Now I know
that Yahveh will deliver his anointed king.
He’ll answer him from his holy heaven
with powerful acts of deliverance
by his outstretched hand.
⁷ Some boast about chariots
and some about horses
but we boast about all that Yahveh our God
has revealed himself to be.
⁸ Our enemies will bow down and fall flat
while we stand strong and tall.

⁹ Give your king victory, Yahveh!
Answer us on the day when we call.

In ancient times warfare frequently ended in the slaughter of a royal family. David’s people likely sang this psalm while he offered sacrifices before marching to battle, to encourage him to entrust the outcome to Yahveh, who rescued Israel from Pharaoh and Jacob from Esau. Neither Israel nor Jacob deserved deliverance. They both received the grace that seeks out and blesses the lost. The king’s sacrifices in Zion—home to God’s earthly sanctuary and gateway to heaven’s blessings—were his visible plea for grace. In this psalm, his people pronounce their blessing, trusting their covenant-keeping God to honor the king’s faith and grant him victory.

Verse six pivots from blessing to confident declaration, based on who Yahveh is. The Hebrew tense of “will deliver” (eushio) implies completed action, that the victory need only be claimed.[b] While generals often pompously parade military hardware to bolster their soldiers’ morale, the psalmist boasts only about God for, as important as weapons and other preparations are, he alone matters supremely. While those who stand in arrogance will bow and fall, the king—now bowing in worship—will stand victorious in battle.[c] The psalm ends by asking God to answer when his people call.

Immersed in the visible, I often find it hard to figure you into the equation, Lord. Help me see that, without you, the one factor that outweighs all else, all my best efforts aren’t enough. Help me see every battle you ask me to fight is actually yours—I just need to make your victory mine. Amen.

[a] This language is taken directly from Jacob’s confession in Genesis 35:3.

[b] Peter C. Craigie, Word Biblical Commentary: Psalms 1-50 (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1983) 184.

[c] Craigie (1983) 187.