Original Meaning

The Heading (20:0)

NO NEW TERMS are introduced in the heading of this psalm. Like Psalms 19 and 21, Psalm 20 is referred to “the director of music” and is attributed to David as a “psalm” (mizmor).6 While the psalm is attributed to David, the reference in 20:2a to the “sanctuary” (qodeš),7 coupled with “Zion” (20:2b), and mention of the king’s “sacrifices” and “burnt offerings” (20:3)—if these are to be taken as indicating the Jerusalem temple—suggest a date after the time of David. There are no specific indications within the psalm itself to clarify the date or suggest a historical setting.

Bridging Contexts

THE SPECIFIC FOCUS of Psalm 20 on intercession for the Judahite king and hope for victory in a military campaign highlights the difficulty of interpreting such “royal psalms” for contemporary application. Both historically and culturally this psalm and its contents remain distant and alien to many contemporary readers, who have little or no experience of monarchy in general or of the Davidic monarchy in particular. Should this psalm be viewed only as a historical example of how Judahites prayed for their king before a military engagement? Is it correct to apply this psalm to the cosmic struggle of the coming Messiah with the forces of evil? Ought we extend our interpretation to serve as a model for intercession for national leaders facing similar conflicts in the present? Or is there an appropriate way to apply this psalm to the life of any member of the faithful community of God who faces difficult struggles today? Let’s consider each of these options in order.

Historical description. It is certain that this psalm provides us with a glimpse of the interaction of king, people, and temple personnel in temple worship. That the kings offered sacrifices on many occasions and sought divine support for military engagements is well documented throughout the Old Testament.24 This psalm provides us with a window into a particular liturgical moment in worship where intercession, assurance, and petition interweave. Historians seeking to reconstruct the role and function of kings in temple worship find this composition a helpful source of data.

But is historical description the only value that still attaches to Psalm 20? Are we done once we have speculated on what the psalm reveals about the function of Judahite kingship? I think not! The fact that these 150 cultic poems have been preserved as holy Scripture is a testimony to their multivalent vitality. The shift to holy Scripture has changed their character from historical snapshots to the source of God’s continuing word to his people. In this text we still hear God speaking a formative word to his people—to us.

Messianic hope. Another way of interpreting this psalm (and the other royal psalms)—a way that moves beyond historical description to allow the composition a continuing voice—is to understand its words as directed not to one of the historical kings of Judah but to the future “anointed [one]” (20:6), the Messiah. The shift from historical king to apocalyptic Messiah is a move that took place in the postexilic period when hopes for reestablishing the Davidic monarchy were slim. Rather than relegate these royal psalms to the archive, they were instead reinterpreted to refer to the future “shoot . . . from the stump of Jesse” (Isa. 11:1)—a divinely empowered ruler who would accomplish what none of the historical kings had ever done. The Messiah would defeat God’s enemies decisively and establish God’s direct rule over all the earth.

That the New Testament interpreted many of the royal psalms as references to Jesus the Messiah is confirmed by Acts 2:30–35, where Psalms 110 and 132 are interpreted as speaking of Jesus, and Hebrews 7:11–25, where Psalm 110 is again interpreted as referring to Jesus as a “priest . . . in the order of Melchizedek.” It is certainly valid to find in Jesus the fulfillment of the Old Testament hopes directed toward the Davidic kingship. What the human kings were unable to accomplish, Jesus carried to fruition. What the kings represented at their best, Christ epitomized in his life and work and will fulfill in the Second Coming as victorious Lord.

But if this were the only appropriate way to read these psalms—as having exclusive reference to the future Messiah (identified by Christians with Jesus)—then the psalm would once again be cut off from the present and would serve as in the first interpretive method to focus our attention exclusively on what the New Testament writers taught about Jesus. The only difference is that our focus has now been redirected from the distant past to the unspecified future.

Present-day national leaders. A third way of interpreting royal psalms in general and Psalm 20 in particular is a way that refocuses the teaching of the psalm firmly into the present. This approach draws an analogy between the ancient kings of Judah and present-day national leaders. The idea is that these leaders share similar contexts and concerns and that the psalms addressed to one are applicable to the other.

There is, however, a difficulty in any easy equation of the context and nature of Israelite monarchy and contemporary national leadership—a difficulty illustrated by Psalm 20. No nation today can lay exclusive claim to the identity of the Old Testament people of God. Even to understand the United States as a nation “under God” and, therefore, specially blessed by him is fraught with conflicts and contradictions. Nowhere is this more clearly displayed as in our own Civil War, where two parts of the same “Christian nation” found themselves at war with each other, both invoking the blessing of the same God in its behalf. Whereas Israel was called by God to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, the church—which most closely approximates the New Testament reflex of the people of God—are faithful followers called out from all nations to form the transnational body of Christ in service to the world. While individual nations may more or less reflect the values and purposes of God’s kingdom, no single nation can claim that identify exclusively as its own.

As a result, to identify the leader of any one nation as the modern equivalent of the king of God’s people is subject to dangerous misunderstanding and distortion. The primary purpose of the kings of Israel and Judah (a purpose they too often failed to pursue) was to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh (cf. Deut. 17:14–20; 1 Sam. 12:19–25); who can say as much for any national leader today?

The assumption that it is possible to equate the contexts of the Davidic kings and modern national leaders is misguided. It is true that there may be similarities and that there may be ways that psalms like Psalm 20 can guide us in regard to modern leaders, but no easy transference is possible. Just consider the implications of such statements as those in 20:4 and 20:5c if applied uncritically to modern national leaders: “May [God] give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. . . . May the LORD grant all your requests.” Such hopeful desires make no sense in our modern secular state.

The existence of such longing in Psalm 20 assumes that the people’s hopes and desires are bound up in that of their leader, that both people and leader are together the people of God, and that together they are seeking to carry out God’s will on a national level. It is unwarranted and unwise to make that assumption about most of our national leaders regardless of their spiritual commitment, and it is equally futile to claim that about our nation as a whole. Any attempt to apply Psalm 20 to the situation of modern national leaders must proceed cautiously and take these caveats into consideration.

Members of the community of God. Our final option is to apply the words of this psalm to any member of the community of God who shares an analogous context of struggle. What justification can I give for such an interpretive move? For one thing, note the fluid interconnection in the Old Testament between king and people. The king is not only leader but also representative of his people. The sins of the king are visited on his people,25 and it is the people’s loyalty to Yahweh that is expected to keep the king in office.26

It is also clear from the role of David in the Psalter that he serves as a model of appropriate piety for all the faithful. While there continues to be doubt whether David actually composed all the psalms that bear his name in their headings, the effect of associating his name with these compositions—in particular, those with historical notices of events in his life—is to make these psalms representative responses to life experiences that can provide models of response to our own circumstances. If David responded to circumstances in his life with the words of these psalms, what better way for me to respond here and now?

Thus, if David the ideal king can provide a model for ordinary believers, then the royal psalms with their pictures of royal life and spirituality can also serve as ways of understanding our own response to God. In this psalm we may see ourselves both as intercessors for others who suffer and as sufferers in need of intercession. In the final call for the salvation of “the king,” we (like the narrator of old) can find hope for our own deliverance: “Answer us when we call!”

Contemporary Significance

IF WE ACCEPT the rationale outlined above that it is appropriate to apply this psalm to the needs and experiences of any member of the community of faith, what does Psalm 20 teach us? In what follows, I will reflect briefly on four aspects of this poem that open up insights for contemporary Christians seeking their way before God.

Trusting the name of Yahweh. The dominant theme of the psalm is a call to “trust in the name of the LORD” (20:7b). At the beginning the hope is expressed that “the name of the God of Jacob” will protect the faithful one (20:1b), so that “the name” of God brackets the whole composition at beginning and end. The “name of God” is of course yhwh, as 20:7b makes explicit. The divine name associated with these four letters (the Tetragrammaton) is taken from the narrative in Exodus 3:1–16, where, at the burning bush, God reveals to Moses and the Israelites for the first time his personal name.27 The full name of God revealed at this point is the Hebrew phrase ʾehyeh ʾašer ʾehyeh (“I will be what I will be”; Ex. 3:14). Yahweh is an abbreviated form of this name from the human point of view and means “He will be. . . .”

By the gift of this name Yahweh provides special access to his people and reveals his essential character. He promises in this name to be with and for his people, to continue to reveal himself over a lifetime of experience with Israel, and yet to remain free from any attempts to coerce or manipulate his action.28 To “trust in the name” of Yahweh, as Psalm 20 affirms, is to accept the character of God revealed in this name, to commit to relationship with Yahweh, and to accept the implications of that relationship.

Yahweh is the God who delivered Israel from bondage in Egypt. He cemented a covenant relationship with his people on Mount Sinai—a relationship that demands that Israel be loyal to him, trust in his protective care, and bring equity, justice, and compassion in relation to other members of the covenant family. Like Israel and her king, we are called to trust in the God who has delivered us and has called us into a covenant relationship of loyal commitment and trust.

Help from the sanctuary, from Zion. When the psalmist speaks of “help from the sanctuary,” most likely the ark of the covenant is in mind. Brought up to Jerusalem by David and ensconced in the Most Holy Place of Solomon’s temple, the ark signified the invisible presence of Yahweh in the midst of his people. The help envisioned may well be the movement of the ark from its resting place in the temple to lead the Israelite army into battle with their foes.29 Help from the sanctuary is Yahweh himself coming to the aid of his people against their enemies.

Remembering sacrifices and burnt offerings. As mentioned in the Original Meaning section, the kings were known to offer sacrifices and burnt offerings in the context of temple worship. The king is implied to have fulfilled his covenantal responsibility by offering scrupulously “burnt offerings” to remove sin and “sacrifices” or voluntary “gifts” to Yahweh that celebrated restoration of right relationship. Again, it is the inward reality of right relationship that Yahweh remembers rather than the abundance of sacrifices offered.30 Rather than taking this to mean that God remembers how we make sacrifices (of time, money, suffering, etc.), this passage is talking about fulfilling our covenantal responsibilities of relationship to God. Have we acknowledged our sin and turned from it? Are we experiencing and celebrating a renewed and restored relationship with God? God “remembers” us when we are on the way of faithful loyalty to him and when we daily seek him with body, mind, soul, and spirit.

We may think that it takes restrictions on ourselves—fasting, living in poverty, risking our lives, giving our lives to full-time ministry, performing heroic acts—to earn us special merit, that gets us remembered. This psalm suggests it is rather the consistent attention to the small, common acts of fellowship, obedience, and relationship that keeps us in the mind of God.

The desire of your heart. Does it make you feel somewhat uneasy that the psalmist longs for God to grant the desire of king’s heart? I wonder if the psalmist would have asked the same thing immediately following David’s affair with Bathsheba? It scares me to think that God might grant the desires of my heart, because my heart is too often distorted by inappropriate wants and cravings that could have disastrous consequences. If all my plans succeeded, there could be hell to pay!

The key to understanding how the psalmist can say this is related to where this hopeful longing stands within this psalm. Immediately preceding is the indication that the king had fulfilled rightly his covenant obligations of removing sin and celebrating communion with Yahweh (20:3). Immediately following is the psalmist’s concluding contrast between two attitudes of trust: those who trust in human military power (chariots and horses) and those who trust instead in “the name of the LORD” (20:7). In this context, therefore, the psalmist’s hope is no carte blanche for the king to achieve every goal and fulfill every desire. Instead, it is grounded in the realization that desires that grow out of right relationship with God and that lead one to trust only in Yahweh are desires that are in line with the will of God himself.31

It is also important to note that the Hebrew here does not contain the word “desire.” That is an interpretive expansion on the literal Hebrew expression: yitten leka kilbabeka (“May he give to you according to your heart”). This suggests that what God gives is dependent on the nature of the heart of the recipient. Elsewhere when this phrase ke + lebab (“like [your/his] heart”) is used, it implies that a parity is being established with the heart mentioned. Since the original form of Psalm 20 was addressed to the Davidic king, this phrase is used to describe an essential parity between David and the heart of God when David is first anointed as king: “The LORD has sought out a man after his own heart” (1 Sam. 13:14). In the following chapter the armor-bearer of Saul’s son Jonathan follows his master into a risky engagement with an expression of solidarity: “Do all that you have in mind. . . . Go ahead; I am with you heart and soul [lit., according to your heart]” (14:7).

That one’s heart is not always a good model for such solidarity is confirmed in the Deuteronomic recommendation that any soldier who is afraid to go into battle should be allowed to return home to avoid the chance “that his brothers will be become disheartened too [lit., like his heart]” (Deut. 20:8). Similarly, we learn that in his later years Solomon’s heart was turned by his foreign wives so that it was not “fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father had been” (1 Kings 11:4). The identical phrase is also used in 1 Kings 15:3 to describe the failure of Abijah to follow in the spiritual footsteps of David.

In Psalm 20, then, what God gives has a certain parity with the heart of the recipient. If, like his father David, the king’s heart is “like the heart of God,” then his plans will succeed and his requests be granted. If, however, like Solomon, his heart is not like that of David and of God, he can expect judgment, like that visited on Solomon and Abijah.

Thus, giving to us according to our hearts does not mean giving us whatever we desire. It means that as our heart is aligned with or against God’s will and purpose, we can expect to receive accordingly blessing or judgment. Rather than an invitation to license, this is a wake-up call to bring our hearts into alignment with the will and purposes of God. The rest of Psalm 20 offers two indications of how this might be accomplished: Pay regular and close attention to matters of restoration and communion, and put your trust in Yahweh alone (20:7–8).32

Original Meaning

Hope for Divine Intervention and Victory (20:1–5)

A STRING OF eight imperfect forms linked in pairs dominates the first section of the poem. Most likely these imperfects are to be rendered as jussives, although there is no formal distinction between jussive and imperfect in these particular forms. The phrases are addressed to the king—who is spoken of with second-person pronouns as “you”—and express the desire of the army or the people that Yahweh intervene in the king’s behalf. The linked pairs ask for divine hearing and protection (20:1), divine help and support from the temple (20:2), God’s favorable response to the king’s offerings and sacrifices (20:3), and successful fulfillment of the king’s military plans for victory (20:4).

May the name of the God of Jacob protect you. The assembled people seek protection for their king (and themselves) in the “name of the God of Jacob” (20:1b). The phrase “the God of Jacob” appears eighteen times in the Old Testament—twelve of them in the Psalter.8 In Exodus 3:6, 15, the phrase is clearly connected with the revelation of the divine name Yahweh.9 The shorter phrase “God of Jacob” is an abbreviation of the longer reference to “the God of your fathers—the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob” (cf. Ex. 3:15).

Obviously the psalmist finds a sense of security in having access to the divine name and the God it represents. While this is the only time the entire phrase “name of the God of Jacob” occurs, the “God of Jacob” does appear several times in situations of protection. In Psalm 46:7 and 11, the God of Jacob is Israel’s “fortress” (miśgab).10 In 76:6, he stops the attacking power of horse and chariot with his rebuke. In 81:1, he is called upon as Israel’s “strength.”

Help from the sanctuary . . . support from Zion. The people seek help and support for the king “from the sanctuary” and “from Zion.” The linking of these two places suggests the psalmist has the Jerusalem temple in mind as the place where supplications to Yahweh can be made and divine assistance received. While some think Zion originally referred to the prominent ridge (south of the present temple mount) on which the original Jebusite city conquered by David stood, the term has also been associated with the hill on which the Solomonic temple was erected.11 Later (presumably during the exilic period, when access to Jerusalem was restricted) “Zion” came to be identified with the whole of Jerusalem, the “holy city.” In this psalm, however, the more narrow reference to the Temple Mount seems appropriate—perhaps an indication that the temple was still present and in operation when the psalm was written. If so, the psalm is a preexilic poem.

By seeking God’s help and support from the temple on Zion, the speakers may be anticipating that the ark of the covenant will go forth from there to lead the army into victorious battle against the enemy as it had prior to the monarchy (cf. Num. 10:35; Josh. 6; 1 Sam. 4:3, 5). After the construction of the temple, the ark of the covenant assumed its place in the inner niche of the temple. There is evidence, however, that it was taken from there to lend support to Israel’s army in military campaigns (cf. 2 Sam. 11:11). Such a procession featuring the ark would be calculated to provide visible confirmation of the invisible presence of Yahweh with the troops and would give strength and courage to their efforts.

Sacrifices and . . . offerings. Kings played an important religious role in offering sacrifices. Saul offered sacrifices in preparation for battle (1 Sam. 13:8–10).12 David and Solomon both were prominently involved in religious worship and sacrifice (2 Sam. 6; 24:18–25; 1 Kings 3; 8:62–63), as were the kings of Israel and Judah after them (2 Kings 16:12, 15; 2 Chron. 29:21–23; 31:3; 35:16). In this psalm the people want God to “remember”13 that the king has fulfilled his obligations of sacrifice in temple worship. They want God to “accept” the king’s offerings for sin so that no barrier prevents divine support for his activities. In this context, the “desire of [the king’s] heart” (Ps. 20:4a) and “all [the king’s] plans” (20:4b) surely refer to the mutual hopes of king, people, and army for success in the coming battle.

Shout for joy. Anticipating positive divine response in the form of a victorious military campaign, the speakers vow a joyous and noisy victory celebration.14 The word translated “when you are victorious” is the same word frequently taken as “salvation, deliverance” (yešuʿah). On a number of occasions this word (along with the related nouns yašaʿ and tešuʿah and the verb yšʿ ) clearly exceeds the sense of deliverance and achieves the more fulsome meaning of “victory.”15 It is interesting to note, however, that the use of this particular term, “victory,” rather than being a human accomplishment and potential source of pride, is always swallowed up in divine deliverance. To proclaim “Victory!” is to acknowledge at one and the same time that “Yahweh has delivered me.”

The second half of this celebratory response is somewhat obscured by a spot of difficult Hebrew. The verb translated in the NIV as “lift up our banners” is otherwise unknown in the Hebrew Bible or elsewhere. The meaning used here is derived from a noun (degel [“banner”]) that shares the same root, with the idea of “lifting up” being supplied for an interpretive understanding of the context.16

All your requests. The opening section of the psalm concludes with a summary phrase encapsulating the speakers’ hopes for a positive divine response to “all [the] requests” for divine assistance for the king and the army expressed throughout these verses. It is hoped that Yahweh will “fill up/make full; fulfill” (mlʾ )17 all that the king requests.18

Bridging Contexts

THE SPECIFIC FOCUS of Psalm 20 on intercession for the Judahite king and hope for victory in a military campaign highlights the difficulty of interpreting such “royal psalms” for contemporary application. Both historically and culturally this psalm and its contents remain distant and alien to many contemporary readers, who have little or no experience of monarchy in general or of the Davidic monarchy in particular. Should this psalm be viewed only as a historical example of how Judahites prayed for their king before a military engagement? Is it correct to apply this psalm to the cosmic struggle of the coming Messiah with the forces of evil? Ought we extend our interpretation to serve as a model for intercession for national leaders facing similar conflicts in the present? Or is there an appropriate way to apply this psalm to the life of any member of the faithful community of God who faces difficult struggles today? Let’s consider each of these options in order.

Historical description. It is certain that this psalm provides us with a glimpse of the interaction of king, people, and temple personnel in temple worship. That the kings offered sacrifices on many occasions and sought divine support for military engagements is well documented throughout the Old Testament.24 This psalm provides us with a window into a particular liturgical moment in worship where intercession, assurance, and petition interweave. Historians seeking to reconstruct the role and function of kings in temple worship find this composition a helpful source of data.

But is historical description the only value that still attaches to Psalm 20? Are we done once we have speculated on what the psalm reveals about the function of Judahite kingship? I think not! The fact that these 150 cultic poems have been preserved as holy Scripture is a testimony to their multivalent vitality. The shift to holy Scripture has changed their character from historical snapshots to the source of God’s continuing word to his people. In this text we still hear God speaking a formative word to his people—to us.

Messianic hope. Another way of interpreting this psalm (and the other royal psalms)—a way that moves beyond historical description to allow the composition a continuing voice—is to understand its words as directed not to one of the historical kings of Judah but to the future “anointed [one]” (20:6), the Messiah. The shift from historical king to apocalyptic Messiah is a move that took place in the postexilic period when hopes for reestablishing the Davidic monarchy were slim. Rather than relegate these royal psalms to the archive, they were instead reinterpreted to refer to the future “shoot . . . from the stump of Jesse” (Isa. 11:1)—a divinely empowered ruler who would accomplish what none of the historical kings had ever done. The Messiah would defeat God’s enemies decisively and establish God’s direct rule over all the earth.

That the New Testament interpreted many of the royal psalms as references to Jesus the Messiah is confirmed by Acts 2:30–35, where Psalms 110 and 132 are interpreted as speaking of Jesus, and Hebrews 7:11–25, where Psalm 110 is again interpreted as referring to Jesus as a “priest . . . in the order of Melchizedek.” It is certainly valid to find in Jesus the fulfillment of the Old Testament hopes directed toward the Davidic kingship. What the human kings were unable to accomplish, Jesus carried to fruition. What the kings represented at their best, Christ epitomized in his life and work and will fulfill in the Second Coming as victorious Lord.

But if this were the only appropriate way to read these psalms—as having exclusive reference to the future Messiah (identified by Christians with Jesus)—then the psalm would once again be cut off from the present and would serve as in the first interpretive method to focus our attention exclusively on what the New Testament writers taught about Jesus. The only difference is that our focus has now been redirected from the distant past to the unspecified future.

Present-day national leaders. A third way of interpreting royal psalms in general and Psalm 20 in particular is a way that refocuses the teaching of the psalm firmly into the present. This approach draws an analogy between the ancient kings of Judah and present-day national leaders. The idea is that these leaders share similar contexts and concerns and that the psalms addressed to one are applicable to the other.

There is, however, a difficulty in any easy equation of the context and nature of Israelite monarchy and contemporary national leadership—a difficulty illustrated by Psalm 20. No nation today can lay exclusive claim to the identity of the Old Testament people of God. Even to understand the United States as a nation “under God” and, therefore, specially blessed by him is fraught with conflicts and contradictions. Nowhere is this more clearly displayed as in our own Civil War, where two parts of the same “Christian nation” found themselves at war with each other, both invoking the blessing of the same God in its behalf. Whereas Israel was called by God to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, the church—which most closely approximates the New Testament reflex of the people of God—are faithful followers called out from all nations to form the transnational body of Christ in service to the world. While individual nations may more or less reflect the values and purposes of God’s kingdom, no single nation can claim that identify exclusively as its own.

As a result, to identify the leader of any one nation as the modern equivalent of the king of God’s people is subject to dangerous misunderstanding and distortion. The primary purpose of the kings of Israel and Judah (a purpose they too often failed to pursue) was to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh (cf. Deut. 17:14–20; 1 Sam. 12:19–25); who can say as much for any national leader today?

The assumption that it is possible to equate the contexts of the Davidic kings and modern national leaders is misguided. It is true that there may be similarities and that there may be ways that psalms like Psalm 20 can guide us in regard to modern leaders, but no easy transference is possible. Just consider the implications of such statements as those in 20:4 and 20:5c if applied uncritically to modern national leaders: “May [God] give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. . . . May the LORD grant all your requests.” Such hopeful desires make no sense in our modern secular state.

The existence of such longing in Psalm 20 assumes that the people’s hopes and desires are bound up in that of their leader, that both people and leader are together the people of God, and that together they are seeking to carry out God’s will on a national level. It is unwarranted and unwise to make that assumption about most of our national leaders regardless of their spiritual commitment, and it is equally futile to claim that about our nation as a whole. Any attempt to apply Psalm 20 to the situation of modern national leaders must proceed cautiously and take these caveats into consideration.

Members of the community of God. Our final option is to apply the words of this psalm to any member of the community of God who shares an analogous context of struggle. What justification can I give for such an interpretive move? For one thing, note the fluid interconnection in the Old Testament between king and people. The king is not only leader but also representative of his people. The sins of the king are visited on his people,25 and it is the people’s loyalty to Yahweh that is expected to keep the king in office.26

It is also clear from the role of David in the Psalter that he serves as a model of appropriate piety for all the faithful. While there continues to be doubt whether David actually composed all the psalms that bear his name in their headings, the effect of associating his name with these compositions—in particular, those with historical notices of events in his life—is to make these psalms representative responses to life experiences that can provide models of response to our own circumstances. If David responded to circumstances in his life with the words of these psalms, what better way for me to respond here and now?

Thus, if David the ideal king can provide a model for ordinary believers, then the royal psalms with their pictures of royal life and spirituality can also serve as ways of understanding our own response to God. In this psalm we may see ourselves both as intercessors for others who suffer and as sufferers in need of intercession. In the final call for the salvation of “the king,” we (like the narrator of old) can find hope for our own deliverance: “Answer us when we call!”

Contemporary Significance

IF WE ACCEPT the rationale outlined above that it is appropriate to apply this psalm to the needs and experiences of any member of the community of faith, what does Psalm 20 teach us? In what follows, I will reflect briefly on four aspects of this poem that open up insights for contemporary Christians seeking their way before God.

Trusting the name of Yahweh. The dominant theme of the psalm is a call to “trust in the name of the LORD” (20:7b). At the beginning the hope is expressed that “the name of the God of Jacob” will protect the faithful one (20:1b), so that “the name” of God brackets the whole composition at beginning and end. The “name of God” is of course yhwh, as 20:7b makes explicit. The divine name associated with these four letters (the Tetragrammaton) is taken from the narrative in Exodus 3:1–16, where, at the burning bush, God reveals to Moses and the Israelites for the first time his personal name.27 The full name of God revealed at this point is the Hebrew phrase ʾehyeh ʾašer ʾehyeh (“I will be what I will be”; Ex. 3:14). Yahweh is an abbreviated form of this name from the human point of view and means “He will be. . . .”

By the gift of this name Yahweh provides special access to his people and reveals his essential character. He promises in this name to be with and for his people, to continue to reveal himself over a lifetime of experience with Israel, and yet to remain free from any attempts to coerce or manipulate his action.28 To “trust in the name” of Yahweh, as Psalm 20 affirms, is to accept the character of God revealed in this name, to commit to relationship with Yahweh, and to accept the implications of that relationship.

Yahweh is the God who delivered Israel from bondage in Egypt. He cemented a covenant relationship with his people on Mount Sinai—a relationship that demands that Israel be loyal to him, trust in his protective care, and bring equity, justice, and compassion in relation to other members of the covenant family. Like Israel and her king, we are called to trust in the God who has delivered us and has called us into a covenant relationship of loyal commitment and trust.

Help from the sanctuary, from Zion. When the psalmist speaks of “help from the sanctuary,” most likely the ark of the covenant is in mind. Brought up to Jerusalem by David and ensconced in the Most Holy Place of Solomon’s temple, the ark signified the invisible presence of Yahweh in the midst of his people. The help envisioned may well be the movement of the ark from its resting place in the temple to lead the Israelite army into battle with their foes.29 Help from the sanctuary is Yahweh himself coming to the aid of his people against their enemies.

Remembering sacrifices and burnt offerings. As mentioned in the Original Meaning section, the kings were known to offer sacrifices and burnt offerings in the context of temple worship. The king is implied to have fulfilled his covenantal responsibility by offering scrupulously “burnt offerings” to remove sin and “sacrifices” or voluntary “gifts” to Yahweh that celebrated restoration of right relationship. Again, it is the inward reality of right relationship that Yahweh remembers rather than the abundance of sacrifices offered.30 Rather than taking this to mean that God remembers how we make sacrifices (of time, money, suffering, etc.), this passage is talking about fulfilling our covenantal responsibilities of relationship to God. Have we acknowledged our sin and turned from it? Are we experiencing and celebrating a renewed and restored relationship with God? God “remembers” us when we are on the way of faithful loyalty to him and when we daily seek him with body, mind, soul, and spirit.

We may think that it takes restrictions on ourselves—fasting, living in poverty, risking our lives, giving our lives to full-time ministry, performing heroic acts—to earn us special merit, that gets us remembered. This psalm suggests it is rather the consistent attention to the small, common acts of fellowship, obedience, and relationship that keeps us in the mind of God.

The desire of your heart. Does it make you feel somewhat uneasy that the psalmist longs for God to grant the desire of king’s heart? I wonder if the psalmist would have asked the same thing immediately following David’s affair with Bathsheba? It scares me to think that God might grant the desires of my heart, because my heart is too often distorted by inappropriate wants and cravings that could have disastrous consequences. If all my plans succeeded, there could be hell to pay!

The key to understanding how the psalmist can say this is related to where this hopeful longing stands within this psalm. Immediately preceding is the indication that the king had fulfilled rightly his covenant obligations of removing sin and celebrating communion with Yahweh (20:3). Immediately following is the psalmist’s concluding contrast between two attitudes of trust: those who trust in human military power (chariots and horses) and those who trust instead in “the name of the LORD” (20:7). In this context, therefore, the psalmist’s hope is no carte blanche for the king to achieve every goal and fulfill every desire. Instead, it is grounded in the realization that desires that grow out of right relationship with God and that lead one to trust only in Yahweh are desires that are in line with the will of God himself.31

It is also important to note that the Hebrew here does not contain the word “desire.” That is an interpretive expansion on the literal Hebrew expression: yitten leka kilbabeka (“May he give to you according to your heart”). This suggests that what God gives is dependent on the nature of the heart of the recipient. Elsewhere when this phrase ke + lebab (“like [your/his] heart”) is used, it implies that a parity is being established with the heart mentioned. Since the original form of Psalm 20 was addressed to the Davidic king, this phrase is used to describe an essential parity between David and the heart of God when David is first anointed as king: “The LORD has sought out a man after his own heart” (1 Sam. 13:14). In the following chapter the armor-bearer of Saul’s son Jonathan follows his master into a risky engagement with an expression of solidarity: “Do all that you have in mind. . . . Go ahead; I am with you heart and soul [lit., according to your heart]” (14:7).

That one’s heart is not always a good model for such solidarity is confirmed in the Deuteronomic recommendation that any soldier who is afraid to go into battle should be allowed to return home to avoid the chance “that his brothers will be become disheartened too [lit., like his heart]” (Deut. 20:8). Similarly, we learn that in his later years Solomon’s heart was turned by his foreign wives so that it was not “fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father had been” (1 Kings 11:4). The identical phrase is also used in 1 Kings 15:3 to describe the failure of Abijah to follow in the spiritual footsteps of David.

In Psalm 20, then, what God gives has a certain parity with the heart of the recipient. If, like his father David, the king’s heart is “like the heart of God,” then his plans will succeed and his requests be granted. If, however, like Solomon, his heart is not like that of David and of God, he can expect judgment, like that visited on Solomon and Abijah.

Thus, giving to us according to our hearts does not mean giving us whatever we desire. It means that as our heart is aligned with or against God’s will and purpose, we can expect to receive accordingly blessing or judgment. Rather than an invitation to license, this is a wake-up call to bring our hearts into alignment with the will and purposes of God. The rest of Psalm 20 offers two indications of how this might be accomplished: Pay regular and close attention to matters of restoration and communion, and put your trust in Yahweh alone (20:7–8).32

Original Meaning

Assurance of Divine Support (20:6)

NOW I KNOW. A distinctive and singular voice now breaks into the communal recitation of hope that has characterized the psalm thus far. The first-person verb here is also a perfect form (from ydʿ [“to know”]). It is introduced by the temporal particle ʿattah (“now”), which provides transition to this new section. The nuance of the perfect of ydʿ implies a knowledge that has come to a finished understanding rather than an ongoing, developing knowledge. The one who knows in this way knows certainly and is able to communicate the results of that knowledge with assurance, like the speaker in our psalm.

The identity of this speaker is not clear from the context. Drawing on the similar context of 2 Chronicles 20, many commentators assume the speaker to be one of the Levites serving in the temple, who here speaks prophetically to assure king and people of a positive divine response and certain victory. It is generally assumed that some Levites bore the responsibility to provide a divine word in response to the supplications and requests of worshipers—including the king. Scholars point to various passages in the psalms as examples of this kind of prophetic proclamation in temple worship (cf. Pss. 110:1–2; cf. 60:6–8; 85:8–13).19

The Lord saves. The proclamation of salvation is offered in terms that assume its certainty. The key verb “saves” (yšʿ ) describes an action that is fixed and complete. This speaking of a future act as if it were already completed is sometimes called the “prophetic perfect,” in which “the certainty of being answered realises the fulfilment in anticipation.”20 Thus, this verb could have been translated “has given victory,” following the pattern established for “when you are victorious” in 20:5.21 The solo speaker envisions the coming victory as an accomplished fact and communicates this certainty to the gathered and expectant worshipers. Whether this proclamation represents a ritual assurance or comes as the result of some particular oracular inquiry for the will and word of Yahweh is uncertain.

His anointed. The king is identified as God’s “anointed” (mašiaḥ)—a Hebrew term that begins as simply a description of those anointed with oil as a sign of their selection for special purpose but develops over time as a special title or designation, “Messiah,” for the divinely empowered, Spirit-filled royal leader, who will ultimately judge the nations and bring God’s kingdom on earth. This reference links our psalm back to Psalm 2:2, where the same term appears in a context of conflict and deliverance. There the “Anointed One” is described as God’s “Son,” established as king in Zion by Yahweh, who laughs at the puny plots of opposing kings and warns them to submit to the rule of his kingly Son. The placement of Psalm 2 as an untitled psalm at the beginning of the Psalter has provided it with a significance beyond its original setting and has in the postexilic shaping and reading of the psalms rightly focused attention away from the failed human role of the kings to the future hope of the coming messianic ruler.22

Our present passage, in its original context during the monarchical period, stands between these two extremes. The title seems to have assumed some august elevation by its association with the person of the king but has not yet exceeded those bounds to focus attention on the coming Messiah. As long as a human ruler was present to provide a focal point for present hopes, the sense of need for a future cosmic deliverer was blunted. I will return in the discussion of Bridging Contexts and Contemporary Significance to consider how this term—and, indeed, all of the royal psalms—might be read differently after the demise of the kingship during the Exile.

He answers him. The promised deliverance and victory is understood as an answer to the intercessory plea with which the psalm began. In 20:1, the gathered supplicants expressed their hope: “May the LORD answer you when you are in distress.” Now the prophetic voice assures the gathered body that Yahweh indeed “answers [the king] from his holy heaven” (20:6b). That the complete answer in terms of realized victory still anticipates the future is confirmed by the concluding words of the whole psalm (20:9b), where the gathered supplicants, despite the assurances of the prophetic speaker, are still hoping for the promised divine answer as they cry out: “Answer us when we call!”

But here the people and king are assured of Yahweh’s complete support and the certain victory that is to be claimed. Yahweh’s answer will come from his “holy heaven” (his divine abode), in the form of “the saving power of his right hand”—the symbol of power and authority unleashed in behalf of the king.

Bridging Contexts

THE SPECIFIC FOCUS of Psalm 20 on intercession for the Judahite king and hope for victory in a military campaign highlights the difficulty of interpreting such “royal psalms” for contemporary application. Both historically and culturally this psalm and its contents remain distant and alien to many contemporary readers, who have little or no experience of monarchy in general or of the Davidic monarchy in particular. Should this psalm be viewed only as a historical example of how Judahites prayed for their king before a military engagement? Is it correct to apply this psalm to the cosmic struggle of the coming Messiah with the forces of evil? Ought we extend our interpretation to serve as a model for intercession for national leaders facing similar conflicts in the present? Or is there an appropriate way to apply this psalm to the life of any member of the faithful community of God who faces difficult struggles today? Let’s consider each of these options in order.

Historical description. It is certain that this psalm provides us with a glimpse of the interaction of king, people, and temple personnel in temple worship. That the kings offered sacrifices on many occasions and sought divine support for military engagements is well documented throughout the Old Testament.24 This psalm provides us with a window into a particular liturgical moment in worship where intercession, assurance, and petition interweave. Historians seeking to reconstruct the role and function of kings in temple worship find this composition a helpful source of data.

But is historical description the only value that still attaches to Psalm 20? Are we done once we have speculated on what the psalm reveals about the function of Judahite kingship? I think not! The fact that these 150 cultic poems have been preserved as holy Scripture is a testimony to their multivalent vitality. The shift to holy Scripture has changed their character from historical snapshots to the source of God’s continuing word to his people. In this text we still hear God speaking a formative word to his people—to us.

Messianic hope. Another way of interpreting this psalm (and the other royal psalms)—a way that moves beyond historical description to allow the composition a continuing voice—is to understand its words as directed not to one of the historical kings of Judah but to the future “anointed [one]” (20:6), the Messiah. The shift from historical king to apocalyptic Messiah is a move that took place in the postexilic period when hopes for reestablishing the Davidic monarchy were slim. Rather than relegate these royal psalms to the archive, they were instead reinterpreted to refer to the future “shoot . . . from the stump of Jesse” (Isa. 11:1)—a divinely empowered ruler who would accomplish what none of the historical kings had ever done. The Messiah would defeat God’s enemies decisively and establish God’s direct rule over all the earth.

That the New Testament interpreted many of the royal psalms as references to Jesus the Messiah is confirmed by Acts 2:30–35, where Psalms 110 and 132 are interpreted as speaking of Jesus, and Hebrews 7:11–25, where Psalm 110 is again interpreted as referring to Jesus as a “priest . . . in the order of Melchizedek.” It is certainly valid to find in Jesus the fulfillment of the Old Testament hopes directed toward the Davidic kingship. What the human kings were unable to accomplish, Jesus carried to fruition. What the kings represented at their best, Christ epitomized in his life and work and will fulfill in the Second Coming as victorious Lord.

But if this were the only appropriate way to read these psalms—as having exclusive reference to the future Messiah (identified by Christians with Jesus)—then the psalm would once again be cut off from the present and would serve as in the first interpretive method to focus our attention exclusively on what the New Testament writers taught about Jesus. The only difference is that our focus has now been redirected from the distant past to the unspecified future.

Present-day national leaders. A third way of interpreting royal psalms in general and Psalm 20 in particular is a way that refocuses the teaching of the psalm firmly into the present. This approach draws an analogy between the ancient kings of Judah and present-day national leaders. The idea is that these leaders share similar contexts and concerns and that the psalms addressed to one are applicable to the other.

There is, however, a difficulty in any easy equation of the context and nature of Israelite monarchy and contemporary national leadership—a difficulty illustrated by Psalm 20. No nation today can lay exclusive claim to the identity of the Old Testament people of God. Even to understand the United States as a nation “under God” and, therefore, specially blessed by him is fraught with conflicts and contradictions. Nowhere is this more clearly displayed as in our own Civil War, where two parts of the same “Christian nation” found themselves at war with each other, both invoking the blessing of the same God in its behalf. Whereas Israel was called by God to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, the church—which most closely approximates the New Testament reflex of the people of God—are faithful followers called out from all nations to form the transnational body of Christ in service to the world. While individual nations may more or less reflect the values and purposes of God’s kingdom, no single nation can claim that identify exclusively as its own.

As a result, to identify the leader of any one nation as the modern equivalent of the king of God’s people is subject to dangerous misunderstanding and distortion. The primary purpose of the kings of Israel and Judah (a purpose they too often failed to pursue) was to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh (cf. Deut. 17:14–20; 1 Sam. 12:19–25); who can say as much for any national leader today?

The assumption that it is possible to equate the contexts of the Davidic kings and modern national leaders is misguided. It is true that there may be similarities and that there may be ways that psalms like Psalm 20 can guide us in regard to modern leaders, but no easy transference is possible. Just consider the implications of such statements as those in 20:4 and 20:5c if applied uncritically to modern national leaders: “May [God] give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. . . . May the LORD grant all your requests.” Such hopeful desires make no sense in our modern secular state.

The existence of such longing in Psalm 20 assumes that the people’s hopes and desires are bound up in that of their leader, that both people and leader are together the people of God, and that together they are seeking to carry out God’s will on a national level. It is unwarranted and unwise to make that assumption about most of our national leaders regardless of their spiritual commitment, and it is equally futile to claim that about our nation as a whole. Any attempt to apply Psalm 20 to the situation of modern national leaders must proceed cautiously and take these caveats into consideration.

Members of the community of God. Our final option is to apply the words of this psalm to any member of the community of God who shares an analogous context of struggle. What justification can I give for such an interpretive move? For one thing, note the fluid interconnection in the Old Testament between king and people. The king is not only leader but also representative of his people. The sins of the king are visited on his people,25 and it is the people’s loyalty to Yahweh that is expected to keep the king in office.26

It is also clear from the role of David in the Psalter that he serves as a model of appropriate piety for all the faithful. While there continues to be doubt whether David actually composed all the psalms that bear his name in their headings, the effect of associating his name with these compositions—in particular, those with historical notices of events in his life—is to make these psalms representative responses to life experiences that can provide models of response to our own circumstances. If David responded to circumstances in his life with the words of these psalms, what better way for me to respond here and now?

Thus, if David the ideal king can provide a model for ordinary believers, then the royal psalms with their pictures of royal life and spirituality can also serve as ways of understanding our own response to God. In this psalm we may see ourselves both as intercessors for others who suffer and as sufferers in need of intercession. In the final call for the salvation of “the king,” we (like the narrator of old) can find hope for our own deliverance: “Answer us when we call!”

Contemporary Significance

IF WE ACCEPT the rationale outlined above that it is appropriate to apply this psalm to the needs and experiences of any member of the community of faith, what does Psalm 20 teach us? In what follows, I will reflect briefly on four aspects of this poem that open up insights for contemporary Christians seeking their way before God.

Trusting the name of Yahweh. The dominant theme of the psalm is a call to “trust in the name of the LORD” (20:7b). At the beginning the hope is expressed that “the name of the God of Jacob” will protect the faithful one (20:1b), so that “the name” of God brackets the whole composition at beginning and end. The “name of God” is of course yhwh, as 20:7b makes explicit. The divine name associated with these four letters (the Tetragrammaton) is taken from the narrative in Exodus 3:1–16, where, at the burning bush, God reveals to Moses and the Israelites for the first time his personal name.27 The full name of God revealed at this point is the Hebrew phrase ʾehyeh ʾašer ʾehyeh (“I will be what I will be”; Ex. 3:14). Yahweh is an abbreviated form of this name from the human point of view and means “He will be. . . .”

By the gift of this name Yahweh provides special access to his people and reveals his essential character. He promises in this name to be with and for his people, to continue to reveal himself over a lifetime of experience with Israel, and yet to remain free from any attempts to coerce or manipulate his action.28 To “trust in the name” of Yahweh, as Psalm 20 affirms, is to accept the character of God revealed in this name, to commit to relationship with Yahweh, and to accept the implications of that relationship.

Yahweh is the God who delivered Israel from bondage in Egypt. He cemented a covenant relationship with his people on Mount Sinai—a relationship that demands that Israel be loyal to him, trust in his protective care, and bring equity, justice, and compassion in relation to other members of the covenant family. Like Israel and her king, we are called to trust in the God who has delivered us and has called us into a covenant relationship of loyal commitment and trust.

Help from the sanctuary, from Zion. When the psalmist speaks of “help from the sanctuary,” most likely the ark of the covenant is in mind. Brought up to Jerusalem by David and ensconced in the Most Holy Place of Solomon’s temple, the ark signified the invisible presence of Yahweh in the midst of his people. The help envisioned may well be the movement of the ark from its resting place in the temple to lead the Israelite army into battle with their foes.29 Help from the sanctuary is Yahweh himself coming to the aid of his people against their enemies.

Remembering sacrifices and burnt offerings. As mentioned in the Original Meaning section, the kings were known to offer sacrifices and burnt offerings in the context of temple worship. The king is implied to have fulfilled his covenantal responsibility by offering scrupulously “burnt offerings” to remove sin and “sacrifices” or voluntary “gifts” to Yahweh that celebrated restoration of right relationship. Again, it is the inward reality of right relationship that Yahweh remembers rather than the abundance of sacrifices offered.30 Rather than taking this to mean that God remembers how we make sacrifices (of time, money, suffering, etc.), this passage is talking about fulfilling our covenantal responsibilities of relationship to God. Have we acknowledged our sin and turned from it? Are we experiencing and celebrating a renewed and restored relationship with God? God “remembers” us when we are on the way of faithful loyalty to him and when we daily seek him with body, mind, soul, and spirit.

We may think that it takes restrictions on ourselves—fasting, living in poverty, risking our lives, giving our lives to full-time ministry, performing heroic acts—to earn us special merit, that gets us remembered. This psalm suggests it is rather the consistent attention to the small, common acts of fellowship, obedience, and relationship that keeps us in the mind of God.

The desire of your heart. Does it make you feel somewhat uneasy that the psalmist longs for God to grant the desire of king’s heart? I wonder if the psalmist would have asked the same thing immediately following David’s affair with Bathsheba? It scares me to think that God might grant the desires of my heart, because my heart is too often distorted by inappropriate wants and cravings that could have disastrous consequences. If all my plans succeeded, there could be hell to pay!

The key to understanding how the psalmist can say this is related to where this hopeful longing stands within this psalm. Immediately preceding is the indication that the king had fulfilled rightly his covenant obligations of removing sin and celebrating communion with Yahweh (20:3). Immediately following is the psalmist’s concluding contrast between two attitudes of trust: those who trust in human military power (chariots and horses) and those who trust instead in “the name of the LORD” (20:7). In this context, therefore, the psalmist’s hope is no carte blanche for the king to achieve every goal and fulfill every desire. Instead, it is grounded in the realization that desires that grow out of right relationship with God and that lead one to trust only in Yahweh are desires that are in line with the will of God himself.31

It is also important to note that the Hebrew here does not contain the word “desire.” That is an interpretive expansion on the literal Hebrew expression: yitten leka kilbabeka (“May he give to you according to your heart”). This suggests that what God gives is dependent on the nature of the heart of the recipient. Elsewhere when this phrase ke + lebab (“like [your/his] heart”) is used, it implies that a parity is being established with the heart mentioned. Since the original form of Psalm 20 was addressed to the Davidic king, this phrase is used to describe an essential parity between David and the heart of God when David is first anointed as king: “The LORD has sought out a man after his own heart” (1 Sam. 13:14). In the following chapter the armor-bearer of Saul’s son Jonathan follows his master into a risky engagement with an expression of solidarity: “Do all that you have in mind. . . . Go ahead; I am with you heart and soul [lit., according to your heart]” (14:7).

That one’s heart is not always a good model for such solidarity is confirmed in the Deuteronomic recommendation that any soldier who is afraid to go into battle should be allowed to return home to avoid the chance “that his brothers will be become disheartened too [lit., like his heart]” (Deut. 20:8). Similarly, we learn that in his later years Solomon’s heart was turned by his foreign wives so that it was not “fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father had been” (1 Kings 11:4). The identical phrase is also used in 1 Kings 15:3 to describe the failure of Abijah to follow in the spiritual footsteps of David.

In Psalm 20, then, what God gives has a certain parity with the heart of the recipient. If, like his father David, the king’s heart is “like the heart of God,” then his plans will succeed and his requests be granted. If, however, like Solomon, his heart is not like that of David and of God, he can expect judgment, like that visited on Solomon and Abijah.

Thus, giving to us according to our hearts does not mean giving us whatever we desire. It means that as our heart is aligned with or against God’s will and purpose, we can expect to receive accordingly blessing or judgment. Rather than an invitation to license, this is a wake-up call to bring our hearts into alignment with the will and purposes of God. The rest of Psalm 20 offers two indications of how this might be accomplished: Pay regular and close attention to matters of restoration and communion, and put your trust in Yahweh alone (20:7–8).32

Original Meaning

Confession of Trust in Yahweh (20:7–8)

HAVING RECEIVED THE prophetic promise of divine support and victory, the assembled people affirm their trust and dependence on Yahweh in a set of opposingly parallel lines contrasting the fate of those who trust in their own strength with those who hope in Yahweh. The verb translated “trust” (zkr) is a Hiphil first-person plural, describing the people’s commitment to Yahweh (20:7b; cf. Isa. 26:13). The verb is supplied in the first half of the verse by implication. The literal Hebrew reads something like: “These in chariotry, these in horses, but we in the name of Yahweh our God place our trust.” Zkr has the meaning “cause to remember, call to remembrance; acknowledge.” The point is that while others rely on the trappings of military power and success, the Israelites remind themselves that their only hope is in the “name” of their God, Yahweh.

By trusting in “chariots” and “horses” the misguided opponents are relying on the most advanced and effective forms of warfare available in contemporary society. Ironclad chariots pulled into battle by seasoned war-horses were terrifying in their ability to break up massed troops and make them vulnerable to the attack of trained foot soldiers following in the destructive wake of the chariots. In their early contacts with the Philistines and other advanced enemies, the Israelite spear-wielding infantry was at a decided disadvantage—especially on the flat plains, where chariots were particularly effective.23

By the time of Solomon, however, Israel had adopted the chariot as the standard of effective warfare, and Solomon was known for his massive chariot forces. Our psalm cautions both king and people from equating victory with superior equipment and fighting personnel. Even early Israel—outnumbered and overpowered by superior weaponry—found ways to limit the effectiveness of chariotry and to win lopsided victories against their better-trained and better-equipped foes.

In this section of the psalm, the Israelites—king, army, and people—affirm their faith that victory is dependent on the power and authority of Yahweh. Those who trust only in their military superiority are doomed to fall (20:8a). In contrast, those who trust in Yahweh “rise up and stand firm” (20:8b). Once again, it is the “name” of Yahweh that provides the protective power the supplicants seek (20:7b; cf. 20:1b).

Bridging Contexts

THE SPECIFIC FOCUS of Psalm 20 on intercession for the Judahite king and hope for victory in a military campaign highlights the difficulty of interpreting such “royal psalms” for contemporary application. Both historically and culturally this psalm and its contents remain distant and alien to many contemporary readers, who have little or no experience of monarchy in general or of the Davidic monarchy in particular. Should this psalm be viewed only as a historical example of how Judahites prayed for their king before a military engagement? Is it correct to apply this psalm to the cosmic struggle of the coming Messiah with the forces of evil? Ought we extend our interpretation to serve as a model for intercession for national leaders facing similar conflicts in the present? Or is there an appropriate way to apply this psalm to the life of any member of the faithful community of God who faces difficult struggles today? Let’s consider each of these options in order.

Historical description. It is certain that this psalm provides us with a glimpse of the interaction of king, people, and temple personnel in temple worship. That the kings offered sacrifices on many occasions and sought divine support for military engagements is well documented throughout the Old Testament.24 This psalm provides us with a window into a particular liturgical moment in worship where intercession, assurance, and petition interweave. Historians seeking to reconstruct the role and function of kings in temple worship find this composition a helpful source of data.

But is historical description the only value that still attaches to Psalm 20? Are we done once we have speculated on what the psalm reveals about the function of Judahite kingship? I think not! The fact that these 150 cultic poems have been preserved as holy Scripture is a testimony to their multivalent vitality. The shift to holy Scripture has changed their character from historical snapshots to the source of God’s continuing word to his people. In this text we still hear God speaking a formative word to his people—to us.

Messianic hope. Another way of interpreting this psalm (and the other royal psalms)—a way that moves beyond historical description to allow the composition a continuing voice—is to understand its words as directed not to one of the historical kings of Judah but to the future “anointed [one]” (20:6), the Messiah. The shift from historical king to apocalyptic Messiah is a move that took place in the postexilic period when hopes for reestablishing the Davidic monarchy were slim. Rather than relegate these royal psalms to the archive, they were instead reinterpreted to refer to the future “shoot . . . from the stump of Jesse” (Isa. 11:1)—a divinely empowered ruler who would accomplish what none of the historical kings had ever done. The Messiah would defeat God’s enemies decisively and establish God’s direct rule over all the earth.

That the New Testament interpreted many of the royal psalms as references to Jesus the Messiah is confirmed by Acts 2:30–35, where Psalms 110 and 132 are interpreted as speaking of Jesus, and Hebrews 7:11–25, where Psalm 110 is again interpreted as referring to Jesus as a “priest . . . in the order of Melchizedek.” It is certainly valid to find in Jesus the fulfillment of the Old Testament hopes directed toward the Davidic kingship. What the human kings were unable to accomplish, Jesus carried to fruition. What the kings represented at their best, Christ epitomized in his life and work and will fulfill in the Second Coming as victorious Lord.

But if this were the only appropriate way to read these psalms—as having exclusive reference to the future Messiah (identified by Christians with Jesus)—then the psalm would once again be cut off from the present and would serve as in the first interpretive method to focus our attention exclusively on what the New Testament writers taught about Jesus. The only difference is that our focus has now been redirected from the distant past to the unspecified future.

Present-day national leaders. A third way of interpreting royal psalms in general and Psalm 20 in particular is a way that refocuses the teaching of the psalm firmly into the present. This approach draws an analogy between the ancient kings of Judah and present-day national leaders. The idea is that these leaders share similar contexts and concerns and that the psalms addressed to one are applicable to the other.

There is, however, a difficulty in any easy equation of the context and nature of Israelite monarchy and contemporary national leadership—a difficulty illustrated by Psalm 20. No nation today can lay exclusive claim to the identity of the Old Testament people of God. Even to understand the United States as a nation “under God” and, therefore, specially blessed by him is fraught with conflicts and contradictions. Nowhere is this more clearly displayed as in our own Civil War, where two parts of the same “Christian nation” found themselves at war with each other, both invoking the blessing of the same God in its behalf. Whereas Israel was called by God to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, the church—which most closely approximates the New Testament reflex of the people of God—are faithful followers called out from all nations to form the transnational body of Christ in service to the world. While individual nations may more or less reflect the values and purposes of God’s kingdom, no single nation can claim that identify exclusively as its own.

As a result, to identify the leader of any one nation as the modern equivalent of the king of God’s people is subject to dangerous misunderstanding and distortion. The primary purpose of the kings of Israel and Judah (a purpose they too often failed to pursue) was to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh (cf. Deut. 17:14–20; 1 Sam. 12:19–25); who can say as much for any national leader today?

The assumption that it is possible to equate the contexts of the Davidic kings and modern national leaders is misguided. It is true that there may be similarities and that there may be ways that psalms like Psalm 20 can guide us in regard to modern leaders, but no easy transference is possible. Just consider the implications of such statements as those in 20:4 and 20:5c if applied uncritically to modern national leaders: “May [God] give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. . . . May the LORD grant all your requests.” Such hopeful desires make no sense in our modern secular state.

The existence of such longing in Psalm 20 assumes that the people’s hopes and desires are bound up in that of their leader, that both people and leader are together the people of God, and that together they are seeking to carry out God’s will on a national level. It is unwarranted and unwise to make that assumption about most of our national leaders regardless of their spiritual commitment, and it is equally futile to claim that about our nation as a whole. Any attempt to apply Psalm 20 to the situation of modern national leaders must proceed cautiously and take these caveats into consideration.

Members of the community of God. Our final option is to apply the words of this psalm to any member of the community of God who shares an analogous context of struggle. What justification can I give for such an interpretive move? For one thing, note the fluid interconnection in the Old Testament between king and people. The king is not only leader but also representative of his people. The sins of the king are visited on his people,25 and it is the people’s loyalty to Yahweh that is expected to keep the king in office.26

It is also clear from the role of David in the Psalter that he serves as a model of appropriate piety for all the faithful. While there continues to be doubt whether David actually composed all the psalms that bear his name in their headings, the effect of associating his name with these compositions—in particular, those with historical notices of events in his life—is to make these psalms representative responses to life experiences that can provide models of response to our own circumstances. If David responded to circumstances in his life with the words of these psalms, what better way for me to respond here and now?

Thus, if David the ideal king can provide a model for ordinary believers, then the royal psalms with their pictures of royal life and spirituality can also serve as ways of understanding our own response to God. In this psalm we may see ourselves both as intercessors for others who suffer and as sufferers in need of intercession. In the final call for the salvation of “the king,” we (like the narrator of old) can find hope for our own deliverance: “Answer us when we call!”

Contemporary Significance

IF WE ACCEPT the rationale outlined above that it is appropriate to apply this psalm to the needs and experiences of any member of the community of faith, what does Psalm 20 teach us? In what follows, I will reflect briefly on four aspects of this poem that open up insights for contemporary Christians seeking their way before God.

Trusting the name of Yahweh. The dominant theme of the psalm is a call to “trust in the name of the LORD” (20:7b). At the beginning the hope is expressed that “the name of the God of Jacob” will protect the faithful one (20:1b), so that “the name” of God brackets the whole composition at beginning and end. The “name of God” is of course yhwh, as 20:7b makes explicit. The divine name associated with these four letters (the Tetragrammaton) is taken from the narrative in Exodus 3:1–16, where, at the burning bush, God reveals to Moses and the Israelites for the first time his personal name.27 The full name of God revealed at this point is the Hebrew phrase ʾehyeh ʾašer ʾehyeh (“I will be what I will be”; Ex. 3:14). Yahweh is an abbreviated form of this name from the human point of view and means “He will be. . . .”

By the gift of this name Yahweh provides special access to his people and reveals his essential character. He promises in this name to be with and for his people, to continue to reveal himself over a lifetime of experience with Israel, and yet to remain free from any attempts to coerce or manipulate his action.28 To “trust in the name” of Yahweh, as Psalm 20 affirms, is to accept the character of God revealed in this name, to commit to relationship with Yahweh, and to accept the implications of that relationship.

Yahweh is the God who delivered Israel from bondage in Egypt. He cemented a covenant relationship with his people on Mount Sinai—a relationship that demands that Israel be loyal to him, trust in his protective care, and bring equity, justice, and compassion in relation to other members of the covenant family. Like Israel and her king, we are called to trust in the God who has delivered us and has called us into a covenant relationship of loyal commitment and trust.

Help from the sanctuary, from Zion. When the psalmist speaks of “help from the sanctuary,” most likely the ark of the covenant is in mind. Brought up to Jerusalem by David and ensconced in the Most Holy Place of Solomon’s temple, the ark signified the invisible presence of Yahweh in the midst of his people. The help envisioned may well be the movement of the ark from its resting place in the temple to lead the Israelite army into battle with their foes.29 Help from the sanctuary is Yahweh himself coming to the aid of his people against their enemies.

Remembering sacrifices and burnt offerings. As mentioned in the Original Meaning section, the kings were known to offer sacrifices and burnt offerings in the context of temple worship. The king is implied to have fulfilled his covenantal responsibility by offering scrupulously “burnt offerings” to remove sin and “sacrifices” or voluntary “gifts” to Yahweh that celebrated restoration of right relationship. Again, it is the inward reality of right relationship that Yahweh remembers rather than the abundance of sacrifices offered.30 Rather than taking this to mean that God remembers how we make sacrifices (of time, money, suffering, etc.), this passage is talking about fulfilling our covenantal responsibilities of relationship to God. Have we acknowledged our sin and turned from it? Are we experiencing and celebrating a renewed and restored relationship with God? God “remembers” us when we are on the way of faithful loyalty to him and when we daily seek him with body, mind, soul, and spirit.

We may think that it takes restrictions on ourselves—fasting, living in poverty, risking our lives, giving our lives to full-time ministry, performing heroic acts—to earn us special merit, that gets us remembered. This psalm suggests it is rather the consistent attention to the small, common acts of fellowship, obedience, and relationship that keeps us in the mind of God.

The desire of your heart. Does it make you feel somewhat uneasy that the psalmist longs for God to grant the desire of king’s heart? I wonder if the psalmist would have asked the same thing immediately following David’s affair with Bathsheba? It scares me to think that God might grant the desires of my heart, because my heart is too often distorted by inappropriate wants and cravings that could have disastrous consequences. If all my plans succeeded, there could be hell to pay!

The key to understanding how the psalmist can say this is related to where this hopeful longing stands within this psalm. Immediately preceding is the indication that the king had fulfilled rightly his covenant obligations of removing sin and celebrating communion with Yahweh (20:3). Immediately following is the psalmist’s concluding contrast between two attitudes of trust: those who trust in human military power (chariots and horses) and those who trust instead in “the name of the LORD” (20:7). In this context, therefore, the psalmist’s hope is no carte blanche for the king to achieve every goal and fulfill every desire. Instead, it is grounded in the realization that desires that grow out of right relationship with God and that lead one to trust only in Yahweh are desires that are in line with the will of God himself.31

It is also important to note that the Hebrew here does not contain the word “desire.” That is an interpretive expansion on the literal Hebrew expression: yitten leka kilbabeka (“May he give to you according to your heart”). This suggests that what God gives is dependent on the nature of the heart of the recipient. Elsewhere when this phrase ke + lebab (“like [your/his] heart”) is used, it implies that a parity is being established with the heart mentioned. Since the original form of Psalm 20 was addressed to the Davidic king, this phrase is used to describe an essential parity between David and the heart of God when David is first anointed as king: “The LORD has sought out a man after his own heart” (1 Sam. 13:14). In the following chapter the armor-bearer of Saul’s son Jonathan follows his master into a risky engagement with an expression of solidarity: “Do all that you have in mind. . . . Go ahead; I am with you heart and soul [lit., according to your heart]” (14:7).

That one’s heart is not always a good model for such solidarity is confirmed in the Deuteronomic recommendation that any soldier who is afraid to go into battle should be allowed to return home to avoid the chance “that his brothers will be become disheartened too [lit., like his heart]” (Deut. 20:8). Similarly, we learn that in his later years Solomon’s heart was turned by his foreign wives so that it was not “fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father had been” (1 Kings 11:4). The identical phrase is also used in 1 Kings 15:3 to describe the failure of Abijah to follow in the spiritual footsteps of David.

In Psalm 20, then, what God gives has a certain parity with the heart of the recipient. If, like his father David, the king’s heart is “like the heart of God,” then his plans will succeed and his requests be granted. If, however, like Solomon, his heart is not like that of David and of God, he can expect judgment, like that visited on Solomon and Abijah.

Thus, giving to us according to our hearts does not mean giving us whatever we desire. It means that as our heart is aligned with or against God’s will and purpose, we can expect to receive accordingly blessing or judgment. Rather than an invitation to license, this is a wake-up call to bring our hearts into alignment with the will and purposes of God. The rest of Psalm 20 offers two indications of how this might be accomplished: Pay regular and close attention to matters of restoration and communion, and put your trust in Yahweh alone (20:7–8).32

Original Meaning

Final Plea (20:9)

THE PSALM CONCLUDES with a final plea that draws together the intercessory and personal prayers of the assembly. The “victory” or “salvation” of the king (20:9a) is the foundation of communal security and is the answer to the prayer raised from the first. In their pleas that Yahweh “answer” them (20:9b), the supplicants are recalling their opening plea for the king (20:1a) as well as the divine promise of deliverance in 20:6b. This final plea serves almost as a concluding Amen, proclaiming as it were, “Let what has been asked and promised truly become reality!” This last verse contains the only specific reference to the king in the psalm, although the previous use of “his anointed” and the reference to military activity left little doubt before.

Bridging Contexts

THE SPECIFIC FOCUS of Psalm 20 on intercession for the Judahite king and hope for victory in a military campaign highlights the difficulty of interpreting such “royal psalms” for contemporary application. Both historically and culturally this psalm and its contents remain distant and alien to many contemporary readers, who have little or no experience of monarchy in general or of the Davidic monarchy in particular. Should this psalm be viewed only as a historical example of how Judahites prayed for their king before a military engagement? Is it correct to apply this psalm to the cosmic struggle of the coming Messiah with the forces of evil? Ought we extend our interpretation to serve as a model for intercession for national leaders facing similar conflicts in the present? Or is there an appropriate way to apply this psalm to the life of any member of the faithful community of God who faces difficult struggles today? Let’s consider each of these options in order.

Historical description. It is certain that this psalm provides us with a glimpse of the interaction of king, people, and temple personnel in temple worship. That the kings offered sacrifices on many occasions and sought divine support for military engagements is well documented throughout the Old Testament.24 This psalm provides us with a window into a particular liturgical moment in worship where intercession, assurance, and petition interweave. Historians seeking to reconstruct the role and function of kings in temple worship find this composition a helpful source of data.

But is historical description the only value that still attaches to Psalm 20? Are we done once we have speculated on what the psalm reveals about the function of Judahite kingship? I think not! The fact that these 150 cultic poems have been preserved as holy Scripture is a testimony to their multivalent vitality. The shift to holy Scripture has changed their character from historical snapshots to the source of God’s continuing word to his people. In this text we still hear God speaking a formative word to his people—to us.

Messianic hope. Another way of interpreting this psalm (and the other royal psalms)—a way that moves beyond historical description to allow the composition a continuing voice—is to understand its words as directed not to one of the historical kings of Judah but to the future “anointed [one]” (20:6), the Messiah. The shift from historical king to apocalyptic Messiah is a move that took place in the postexilic period when hopes for reestablishing the Davidic monarchy were slim. Rather than relegate these royal psalms to the archive, they were instead reinterpreted to refer to the future “shoot . . . from the stump of Jesse” (Isa. 11:1)—a divinely empowered ruler who would accomplish what none of the historical kings had ever done. The Messiah would defeat God’s enemies decisively and establish God’s direct rule over all the earth.

That the New Testament interpreted many of the royal psalms as references to Jesus the Messiah is confirmed by Acts 2:30–35, where Psalms 110 and 132 are interpreted as speaking of Jesus, and Hebrews 7:11–25, where Psalm 110 is again interpreted as referring to Jesus as a “priest . . . in the order of Melchizedek.” It is certainly valid to find in Jesus the fulfillment of the Old Testament hopes directed toward the Davidic kingship. What the human kings were unable to accomplish, Jesus carried to fruition. What the kings represented at their best, Christ epitomized in his life and work and will fulfill in the Second Coming as victorious Lord.

But if this were the only appropriate way to read these psalms—as having exclusive reference to the future Messiah (identified by Christians with Jesus)—then the psalm would once again be cut off from the present and would serve as in the first interpretive method to focus our attention exclusively on what the New Testament writers taught about Jesus. The only difference is that our focus has now been redirected from the distant past to the unspecified future.

Present-day national leaders. A third way of interpreting royal psalms in general and Psalm 20 in particular is a way that refocuses the teaching of the psalm firmly into the present. This approach draws an analogy between the ancient kings of Judah and present-day national leaders. The idea is that these leaders share similar contexts and concerns and that the psalms addressed to one are applicable to the other.

There is, however, a difficulty in any easy equation of the context and nature of Israelite monarchy and contemporary national leadership—a difficulty illustrated by Psalm 20. No nation today can lay exclusive claim to the identity of the Old Testament people of God. Even to understand the United States as a nation “under God” and, therefore, specially blessed by him is fraught with conflicts and contradictions. Nowhere is this more clearly displayed as in our own Civil War, where two parts of the same “Christian nation” found themselves at war with each other, both invoking the blessing of the same God in its behalf. Whereas Israel was called by God to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, the church—which most closely approximates the New Testament reflex of the people of God—are faithful followers called out from all nations to form the transnational body of Christ in service to the world. While individual nations may more or less reflect the values and purposes of God’s kingdom, no single nation can claim that identify exclusively as its own.

As a result, to identify the leader of any one nation as the modern equivalent of the king of God’s people is subject to dangerous misunderstanding and distortion. The primary purpose of the kings of Israel and Judah (a purpose they too often failed to pursue) was to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh (cf. Deut. 17:14–20; 1 Sam. 12:19–25); who can say as much for any national leader today?

The assumption that it is possible to equate the contexts of the Davidic kings and modern national leaders is misguided. It is true that there may be similarities and that there may be ways that psalms like Psalm 20 can guide us in regard to modern leaders, but no easy transference is possible. Just consider the implications of such statements as those in 20:4 and 20:5c if applied uncritically to modern national leaders: “May [God] give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed. . . . May the LORD grant all your requests.” Such hopeful desires make no sense in our modern secular state.

The existence of such longing in Psalm 20 assumes that the people’s hopes and desires are bound up in that of their leader, that both people and leader are together the people of God, and that together they are seeking to carry out God’s will on a national level. It is unwarranted and unwise to make that assumption about most of our national leaders regardless of their spiritual commitment, and it is equally futile to claim that about our nation as a whole. Any attempt to apply Psalm 20 to the situation of modern national leaders must proceed cautiously and take these caveats into consideration.

Members of the community of God. Our final option is to apply the words of this psalm to any member of the community of God who shares an analogous context of struggle. What justification can I give for such an interpretive move? For one thing, note the fluid interconnection in the Old Testament between king and people. The king is not only leader but also representative of his people. The sins of the king are visited on his people,25 and it is the people’s loyalty to Yahweh that is expected to keep the king in office.26

It is also clear from the role of David in the Psalter that he serves as a model of appropriate piety for all the faithful. While there continues to be doubt whether David actually composed all the psalms that bear his name in their headings, the effect of associating his name with these compositions—in particular, those with historical notices of events in his life—is to make these psalms representative responses to life experiences that can provide models of response to our own circumstances. If David responded to circumstances in his life with the words of these psalms, what better way for me to respond here and now?

Thus, if David the ideal king can provide a model for ordinary believers, then the royal psalms with their pictures of royal life and spirituality can also serve as ways of understanding our own response to God. In this psalm we may see ourselves both as intercessors for others who suffer and as sufferers in need of intercession. In the final call for the salvation of “the king,” we (like the narrator of old) can find hope for our own deliverance: “Answer us when we call!”

Contemporary Significance

IF WE ACCEPT the rationale outlined above that it is appropriate to apply this psalm to the needs and experiences of any member of the community of faith, what does Psalm 20 teach us? In what follows, I will reflect briefly on four aspects of this poem that open up insights for contemporary Christians seeking their way before God.

Trusting the name of Yahweh. The dominant theme of the psalm is a call to “trust in the name of the LORD” (20:7b). At the beginning the hope is expressed that “the name of the God of Jacob” will protect the faithful one (20:1b), so that “the name” of God brackets the whole composition at beginning and end. The “name of God” is of course yhwh, as 20:7b makes explicit. The divine name associated with these four letters (the Tetragrammaton) is taken from the narrative in Exodus 3:1–16, where, at the burning bush, God reveals to Moses and the Israelites for the first time his personal name.27 The full name of God revealed at this point is the Hebrew phrase ʾehyeh ʾašer ʾehyeh (“I will be what I will be”; Ex. 3:14). Yahweh is an abbreviated form of this name from the human point of view and means “He will be. . . .”

By the gift of this name Yahweh provides special access to his people and reveals his essential character. He promises in this name to be with and for his people, to continue to reveal himself over a lifetime of experience with Israel, and yet to remain free from any attempts to coerce or manipulate his action.28 To “trust in the name” of Yahweh, as Psalm 20 affirms, is to accept the character of God revealed in this name, to commit to relationship with Yahweh, and to accept the implications of that relationship.

Yahweh is the God who delivered Israel from bondage in Egypt. He cemented a covenant relationship with his people on Mount Sinai—a relationship that demands that Israel be loyal to him, trust in his protective care, and bring equity, justice, and compassion in relation to other members of the covenant family. Like Israel and her king, we are called to trust in the God who has delivered us and has called us into a covenant relationship of loyal commitment and trust.

Help from the sanctuary, from Zion. When the psalmist speaks of “help from the sanctuary,” most likely the ark of the covenant is in mind. Brought up to Jerusalem by David and ensconced in the Most Holy Place of Solomon’s temple, the ark signified the invisible presence of Yahweh in the midst of his people. The help envisioned may well be the movement of the ark from its resting place in the temple to lead the Israelite army into battle with their foes.29 Help from the sanctuary is Yahweh himself coming to the aid of his people against their enemies.

Remembering sacrifices and burnt offerings. As mentioned in the Original Meaning section, the kings were known to offer sacrifices and burnt offerings in the context of temple worship. The king is implied to have fulfilled his covenantal responsibility by offering scrupulously “burnt offerings” to remove sin and “sacrifices” or voluntary “gifts” to Yahweh that celebrated restoration of right relationship. Again, it is the inward reality of right relationship that Yahweh remembers rather than the abundance of sacrifices offered.30 Rather than taking this to mean that God remembers how we make sacrifices (of time, money, suffering, etc.), this passage is talking about fulfilling our covenantal responsibilities of relationship to God. Have we acknowledged our sin and turned from it? Are we experiencing and celebrating a renewed and restored relationship with God? God “remembers” us when we are on the way of faithful loyalty to him and when we daily seek him with body, mind, soul, and spirit.

We may think that it takes restrictions on ourselves—fasting, living in poverty, risking our lives, giving our lives to full-time ministry, performing heroic acts—to earn us special merit, that gets us remembered. This psalm suggests it is rather the consistent attention to the small, common acts of fellowship, obedience, and relationship that keeps us in the mind of God.

The desire of your heart. Does it make you feel somewhat uneasy that the psalmist longs for God to grant the desire of king’s heart? I wonder if the psalmist would have asked the same thing immediately following David’s affair with Bathsheba? It scares me to think that God might grant the desires of my heart, because my heart is too often distorted by inappropriate wants and cravings that could have disastrous consequences. If all my plans succeeded, there could be hell to pay!

The key to understanding how the psalmist can say this is related to where this hopeful longing stands within this psalm. Immediately preceding is the indication that the king had fulfilled rightly his covenant obligations of removing sin and celebrating communion with Yahweh (20:3). Immediately following is the psalmist’s concluding contrast between two attitudes of trust: those who trust in human military power (chariots and horses) and those who trust instead in “the name of the LORD” (20:7). In this context, therefore, the psalmist’s hope is no carte blanche for the king to achieve every goal and fulfill every desire. Instead, it is grounded in the realization that desires that grow out of right relationship with God and that lead one to trust only in Yahweh are desires that are in line with the will of God himself.31

It is also important to note that the Hebrew here does not contain the word “desire.” That is an interpretive expansion on the literal Hebrew expression: yitten leka kilbabeka (“May he give to you according to your heart”). This suggests that what God gives is dependent on the nature of the heart of the recipient. Elsewhere when this phrase ke + lebab (“like [your/his] heart”) is used, it implies that a parity is being established with the heart mentioned. Since the original form of Psalm 20 was addressed to the Davidic king, this phrase is used to describe an essential parity between David and the heart of God when David is first anointed as king: “The LORD has sought out a man after his own heart” (1 Sam. 13:14). In the following chapter the armor-bearer of Saul’s son Jonathan follows his master into a risky engagement with an expression of solidarity: “Do all that you have in mind. . . . Go ahead; I am with you heart and soul [lit., according to your heart]” (14:7).

That one’s heart is not always a good model for such solidarity is confirmed in the Deuteronomic recommendation that any soldier who is afraid to go into battle should be allowed to return home to avoid the chance “that his brothers will be become disheartened too [lit., like his heart]” (Deut. 20:8). Similarly, we learn that in his later years Solomon’s heart was turned by his foreign wives so that it was not “fully devoted to the LORD his God, as the heart of David his father had been” (1 Kings 11:4). The identical phrase is also used in 1 Kings 15:3 to describe the failure of Abijah to follow in the spiritual footsteps of David.

In Psalm 20, then, what God gives has a certain parity with the heart of the recipient. If, like his father David, the king’s heart is “like the heart of God,” then his plans will succeed and his requests be granted. If, however, like Solomon, his heart is not like that of David and of God, he can expect judgment, like that visited on Solomon and Abijah.

Thus, giving to us according to our hearts does not mean giving us whatever we desire. It means that as our heart is aligned with or against God’s will and purpose, we can expect to receive accordingly blessing or judgment. Rather than an invitation to license, this is a wake-up call to bring our hearts into alignment with the will and purposes of God. The rest of Psalm 20 offers two indications of how this might be accomplished: Pay regular and close attention to matters of restoration and communion, and put your trust in Yahweh alone (20:7–8).32