Psalm 26 is an appeal for vindication of some sort—but of what sort? Scholars have proposed a variety of settings in which ancient Israelites might have used Psalm 26;227 for example, many read it as a prayer for public exoneration offered by someone seriously or falsely accused of wrongdoing. Unfortunately, there is little evidence for such a ceremonial occasion, except perhaps the test in Numbers 5:11–31, when a husband suspects his wife of adultery. Certainly one can imagine an innocent wife uttering such a prayer, perhaps in reply to the solemn warning of the priest (Num. 5:19–22), and the Hebrew wording of the psalm is not specifically masculine (although some of the activities, such as sitting in Ps. 26:4–5, might be more distinctive of men in ancient Israel). At the same time, the exposition here will argue that the psalm also fits a wider range of applications.

Others have suggested that the psalm served as part of an entrance liturgy by which pilgrims came into the sanctuary or by which priests entered their work. Now, as already mentioned in the remarks on Psalm 15, what we have here does not match what we might have expected for an entrance liturgy, since the focus here, as in Psalm 15, lies on the moral and internal. Nevertheless, the suggestion helpfully links the theme here with that of Psalms 15 and 24, and this will point the way to the psalm’s proper use. That is, it mirrors for those who attend worship what the ideal covenant participant should actually look like.

Some have taken the claims of innocence here as a kind of self-righteous boasting, but, as already argued on Psalms 7 and 17, this is a mistake. First, the mention of God’s steadfast love and faithfulness (26:3), a clear echo of Exodus 34:6, shows that divine grace is the foundation for holy living. Second, the references to worship in God’s house (Ps. 26:6–8) indicate that the covenantal means of grace, with their focus on atonement and forgiveness, are in view. And third, singing this psalm serves to enable worshipers more and more to like and embrace the ideal of faithful covenant membership—but it does not make achieving that ideal a precondition for true worship.

The flow of the psalm moves from a prayer (vv. 1–3) to a claim about oneself (vv. 4–8). Verse 9–10 return to prayer, then verses 11–12 express confidence and intentions for the future.

  I.  Prayer for Vindication (26:1–3)

  II.  Claim of Innocence (26:4–8)

  III.  Separate Me from the Bloodthirsty (26:9–10)

  IV.  Confidence and Commitment (26:11–12)

Like Psalms 7 and 17, this psalm has worshipers singing to profess integrity in their lives; like the case for those psalms, it would be an easy mistake to suppose that this is self-righteous braggadocio (cf. Response sections on Psalms 7; 17). Pastoral wisdom would have been called for on the part of the priests arranging and leading the worship.

But also like Psalms 7 and 17, one crucial function of singing a song like this one is to set the virtues as the ideal toward which the faithful will more readily give themselves the more honestly they sing the words. The integrity that it praises covers both observable deeds and one’s invisible inner life, actions and feelings.

A similar situation faces Christians as they read, say, 1 John, with its various terms for genuine believers (those who keep God’s word, abide in God, have been born of God, etc.), and its variety of expressions for what they do (walk as Jesus walked, confess their sins, love their brethren, listen to the apostles, etc.).235 Extensive discussions have pondered what these assertions in 1 John mean, but certainly they do not claim sinless perfection, as 1 John 1:9; 2:1 make clear. Better is the idea that the statements using the present form of the verb describe the prevailing practices of the faithful—as over against particular lapses, for which the aorist would be normal. Nevertheless, I think that, in view of the disputative context (a group of false teachers have left; 2:18–19), the author’s goals recognize that those who remain true to the apostles must be regrounded in their identity. They must learn to say, “This is what we do.” F. F. Bruce’s commentary offers a reasonable explanation of how these present-stem verb forms function in 1 John, based on the British boarding school culture of his own upbringing:

When a boy goes to a new school, he may inadvertently do something out of keeping with the school’s tradition or good name, to be told immediately, “That isn’t done here.” A literalist might reply, “But obviously it is done; this boy has just done it”—but he would be deliberately missing the point of the rebuke. The point of the rebuke is that such conduct is disapproved of in this school, so anyone who practises it can normally be assumed not to belong to the school.236

It would probably be going too far to see the violations of the approved way of life in the Psalms and in 1 John as disqualifications for membership; rather, the grace of God sets a person on the path of faithfulness by equipping him or her with the proper likes and dislikes. The affirmations of positive virtues enable the congregation to feel their own approval of those virtues, and the denunciations of vices enable them to feel their own disapproval of those vices.

In the same way Christians can sing a psalm such as this as “this is what we do”: this is the life we admire, this is the kind of people we want to be. This is our graciously given identity, and as a body we support and nourish in one another the aspiration to be good as we simultaneously create a safe environment for those who are not yet very good at being good.Psalm 26

Psalm 27