Original Meaning

The Heading (21:0)

Like Psalms 19 and 20 before it, Psalm 21 is referred “to the director of music” and attributed to David as a “psalm” (mizmor). No new terms are introduced in the heading.2

Bridging Contexts

THE VICTORIES YOU GIVE. The first section of Psalm 21 is bracketed by the appearance of the identical term (bišuʿatka) at beginning (21:1) and near the end (21:5). The presence of this word provides a thematic focus for this section on the action of Yahweh in behalf of king and people. The NIV translation of this word as “victories” in both cases has applied interpretive pressure on the understanding of bišuʿatka in two ways.

(1) The term in the Hebrew is a singular noun, not plural as the NIV renders it.18 The plural rendering flies in the face of the text and tends to generalize the king’s experience of victory away from any particular historical circumstance (no longer recoverable) to which the original psalm might be responding. Such a shift from particular to general is consistent with the messianic reading of the royal psalms characteristic of the NIV.

(2) The base Hebrew noun yešuʿah more commonly means “salvation” or “deliverance” than “victory.” The use of “victories” rather than the more common “salvation” or “deliverance” is also consistent with the NIV’s messianic reading of the psalm. Since the Messiah brings salvation and deliverance rather than receives it, as does the king in Psalm 20, the shift to “victory” allows the king to appear to participate in the “victories” given through the power of God. The problem of such a rendering, in my opinion, is that it is not comfortable with the text and undermines the original, premessianic reading of the psalm.

This rendering also obscures the connection that links Psalms 20, 21, and 22 together. In Psalm 20 the people who are interceding for the king anticipate a resounding shout of joy bišuʿateka (lit., “when you are delivered,” 20:5).19 A singular voice confidently proclaims, “Now I know that the LORD saves [hošiaʿ ] his anointed” (20:6). Psalm 21 then describes the king rejoicing in the “salvation” provided by Yahweh (21:1, 5). The certainty of divine deliverance that marks these two psalms provides stark contrast with the failure of divine deliverance expressed in the plaintive cry with which Psalm 22 begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from my salvation [mišuʿati; NIV saving me]?” (22:1).20

What gives the king joy at the beginning of Psalm 21 is the deliverance provided by Yahweh, not the victory he himself accomplishes with divine empowerment. This interpretation is more consistent with the opening phrase of 21:1, where the king rejoices in Yahweh’s strength, not his own! It also fits well with the king’s spoken “request” (for deliverance?) in 21:2b and provides a strong foundation for the king’s “trust” in Yahweh that completes the section (21:7). While it is true that the final section of this psalm depicts military action that might seem appropriate for a “victory” celebration, it is Yahweh who is seen to defeat the enemy, and it is Yahweh whose strength is exalted at the close.

At the time of your appearing. Psalm 21 concludes with what might be called a “proto-apocalyptic” description of divine judgment on God’s enemies by a consuming fire. Judgment by fire is a common image in the Old Testament,21 and Yahweh himself is on a number of occasions called a “consuming fire,” a probable reference to the essential character of Yahweh and its destructive potential for those who see or approach it.22 I call this passage proto-apocalyptic because the Old Testament image of a consuming fire most often anticipates the destruction of immediate enemies rather than an eschatological consummation. While it is true that the prophetic oracles were looking into an indeterminate future at the time of their pronouncement, most had already seen fulfillment by the time of inscripturation, and only a few have clearly shifted their focus to the eschatological end times.23 That an apocalyptic interpretation ultimately ruled the day is indicated by an apparent allusion to these verses in James 5:3 in a clear context of eschatological consummation.24

Like the “consuming fire,” the image of a fiery furnace is also used of divine judgment or testing. A variety of Hebrew words are translated “furnace”—probably describing different kinds of furnaces employed for various purposes. The smoke rising from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is described in Genesis 19:28 “like smoke from a furnace.” Since this term is also used in Exodus as the source of soot employed by Moses to create the plague of boils (Ex. 9:10, 18), it may describe the kilns in which mud bricks were fired.

As a place of testing for Israel, Egypt itself is called on several occasions an “iron-smelting furnace [kur habbarzel]” (Deut. 4:20; 1 Kings 8:51; Jer. 11:4). Elsewhere the term kur appears as an indication of divine testing (Prov. 17:3; 27:21; Isa. 48:10) or judgment (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In these instances kur is connected with various metals that undergo refinement through smelting: gold (Prov. 17:3; 27:21); silver (Isa. 48:10); silver, copper, tin, iron, and lead (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In the narratives of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are thrown by the king of Babylon into a “blazing furnace” [Aram. ʾattun nuraʾ ], which the king intends as judgment but God uses as a test of their faithfulness.25

The term employed for “furnace” in our passage is the Hebrew tannur, which most often describes an oven for baking.26 On the two occasions other than our psalm that the NIV translates this term “furnace,” divine judgment is clearly in mind. In Isaiah 31:9, Assyria will panic and flee before the supernatural intervention of Yahweh, “whose fire is in Zion, whose furnace is in Jerusalem.” Malachi offers a distinctly eschatological and apocalyptic setting when he declares: “ ‘Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘Not a root or a branch will be left to them’ ” (Mal. 4:1).

The concept of a fiery furnace as an image of the eschatological judgment reappears in the New Testament. Jesus tells two parables of the end times in Matthew 13—one of pulling out weeds at “the end of the age” (13:37–43) and the other describing the separation of good and bad fish (13:47–50). Both conclude with similar warnings that the wicked will be thrown into “the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (cf. 13:42, 50).

The use in both Old and New Testaments of similar images of fiery eschatological judgment emphasizes the continuity that binds these two scriptural collections together. Such continuity of image, theme, and message flies in the face of any attempt to distinguish between Old and New Testaments by claiming the former proclaims a message of wrath and judgment while the latter is exclusively focused on gracious mercy and salvation.

The New Testament, of course, is a gospel of God’s gracious mercy poured out abundantly in Jesus Christ on those who will receive it. But the New Testament, even from the mouth of Jesus himself (Matt. 13:42, 50), makes it abundantly clear that God is still in his essential nature a “consuming fire” (Heb. 12:29), who cannot be trifled with—a consuming fire who can receive the sacrifices of the repentant and turn them into restoration. But at the same time God’s consuming fire must consume those who align themselves with evil and refuse to accept his mercy. The eschatological warning of both Testaments is unmistakable: Those who persist in resisting God’s will and purposes will suffer the same fate as stubble consigned to the furnace or dross left behind in the refining process.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PSALM 20, the picture and attitude of the king serve as an appropriate model for the individual believer seeking guidance for his or her own life.27 Characteristic of Israelite kingship was a tension that most of us face almost daily. If you look at the early narratives of the origins of Israel’s monarchy, this tension is very apparent. The kings constantly struggled with competing demands. On the one hand, the people wanted them to become political and military leaders winning victories against Israel’s enemies. On the other hand, God reluctantly called them while demanding them to forego the normal kingly reliance on military, political, and financial power in order to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh.

The stories of Saul illustrate just how difficult it was to keep these demands in proper perspective. Twice God rebuked Saul through Samuel for failing to remember his proper role. Early on Saul failed to trust in Yahweh by waiting for Samuel’s appearance before a battle. Instead, seeing the enemy troops massing and his own fearful army dwindling away, he manipulated the sacrificial offering in order to ensure military victory (1 Sam. 13:1–15). Later Saul allowed himself to be swayed by popular pressure into resisting the complete annihilation of the Amalekites as demanded by Yahweh (15:1–34). In both instances Saul saw victory and popular acceptance as more important than leading the people to fear Yahweh and rely on him alone. Thus, the kingship was taken away from Saul and his family (15:17–26).

The same tension is evident in the description of appropriate kingship found in Deuteronomy 17:14–20, where God permits kingship with a series of limiting caveats. The king must be a native Israelite. He must not multiply horses, wives, gold, or silver. Moreover, he must refer often to the law of Yahweh and live carefully by it. Under these conditions, God promises, “he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in Israel” (17:20).

The references to horses, wives, gold, and silver, while not immediately clear, are nevertheless fairly transparent in their intent. Horses were the essential component for creating a corps of horse-drawn chariotry—the A-bomb of military technology of the day. In essence the kings were being told not to rely on military power!

Multiple marriages were the means by which ancient kings cemented political treaties and relationships with foreign nations. Such treaties helped to normalize relationships and provided weaker powers with strong partners with whom to resist the pressures from the major powers bearing down on them. By rejecting such political maneuvering, the kings were asked to give up another source of kingly power in favor of reliance on Yahweh alone.

The final reference to gold and silver is by now more clear. Financial power has always been one of the necessary trappings of political and military power. How else can a king pay and supply a standing army? How else can great building campaigns be carried forward? Once again the kings of Israel were expected to eschew one of the most important features of national leadership—financial power.

Rather than the usual forms of kingly power, therefore, the kings were required to bind themselves to keep the law of Yahweh and to rely on him alone. It is no accident that Deuteronomy 17:14–20 reflects clearly and negatively on the kingship of Solomon, who served at once in Israel as the great king of wisdom and the epitome of folly (1 Kings 9:1–11:13). Solomon’s kingship violated all three of the expectations laid down in Deuteronomy 17. He amassed a huge chariotry force by trading horses throughout the Near East. His large number of wives is well known—many of whom (like the daughter of Pharaoh) were political marriages as described above. And Solomon’s opulent wealth was legendary. Massive amounts of gold and silver—derived through a harsh taxation policy—shored up his military expansion, political relationships, and economical development.

Yet, this great royal power was not matched by an equal dedication to the law of Yahweh. Solomon’s folly led him to introduce foreign worship in Jerusalem, by which the people were led astray from loyalty to and reliance on Yahweh alone. For this reason much of his kingdom was taken away from his descendants.

We face similar tensions in our own lives on a daily basis. Constantly we must choose between self-power and relying on Yahweh alone. We want to be in control of our lives, and we want to take the credit for the victories we achieve. Yet we are too often forced to admit—by circumstances, by our own failures—just how little control we really have over our lives. We cannot even control our own desires or discipline our use of time, money, or the TV! How can we hope to exert influence on our children, world politics, natural forces, or even the drunken driver careening along the highway?

Many twelve-step programs incorporate an admission of “powerlessness” as the first step of the program: “Admitted we were powerless over [our compulsions], that our lives had become unmanageable.” Rather than fostering despair, however, the program moves on to a second step: “Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.” And the third step models a life-saving step from “I am able” to “He is able,” when it says: “Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to God. . . .”

Psalm 21:1–7 mirrors just such a recognition of personal powerlessness and a turning to the power of God. It is in this context of surrender that the translation of yešuʿatka in verses 1 and 5 should take its meaning. The subtle difference between the NIV’s “victories” (implying an accomplishment of the king) and the alternate rendering of “salvation” or “deliverance” (implying the powerful action of Yahweh) is important. The whole context here is one of trust in and reliance on the “strength” of Yahweh (21:1). The real actor in these verses is Yahweh, not the king. Yahweh gives salvation (21:1, 5a), grants the desires of the king’s heart and the request of his lips (21:2), crowns the king (21:3), gives abundant life (21:4), and provides the king with divine presence (21:6). King has only to ask (21:2, 4), and God responds. In such a context of divine power, it seems most appropriate to translate yešuʿatka as “your salvation” or “your deliverance” rather than “victories.”

Similarly, in our own lives such a subtle difference can make a world of difference in how we perceive God working in us. Do we understand our victories—however great or small—as God’s deliverance? Or do we see our own power and ability in our accomplishments? An excerpt from the Third-Step Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous walks a narrow line between personal victory and divine deliverance: “Take away my difficulties that victory over them might bear witness to those I would help of your power, your love, and your way of life.” Victory here, as in Psalm 21, is divine deliverance. It is God who takes away our difficulties, and our testimony is to his power made manifest in our weakness.28 Ask any recovering addict how they can resist their addictive compulsions, and they will tell you, “I can’t. God can, if I let him!”

When the king (and we) surrender our weakness to God’s strength, we experience not only “salvation” but “eternal blessings” (21:6a) as well. Those blessings include divine honor, symbolized here by a “crown of pure gold,” and the gift of “glory . . . splendor and majesty” (21:5).29 As mentioned in the comments on 21:2–6, these three are visible ornaments of royal power and public prestige: public dignity, regal bearing, and splendid dress. They are transitory and passing glories, which may fade and vanish with age or loss of power and wealth. But the psalmist promises the king “eternal blessings” (21:6), which are filled out in the following verses: the joy of God’s presence (21:6b), God’s unfailing love (21:7b), and an unshakable foundation (21:7c). These gifts cannot be taken away as long as the king (and we) trust in Yahweh (21:7a).

As I read again and again through the verses of Psalm 21, phrases from the great traditional hymn “How Firm a Foundation” begin to echo through my mind. To my knowledge this hymn is nowhere claimed to be based on Psalm 21, but the more I listen, the more connection I can see. “How firm a foundation . . . is laid for your faith. . . . Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my gracious, omnipotent hand. . . . That [trusting] soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake!” Note again the psalmist’s praise in 21:13:

Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength;

we will sing and praise your might.

Original Meaning

In Praise of Yahweh’s Strength (21:1)

As Psalm 20 ends with direct mention of the king (20:9) for whom the gathered assembly seeks divine deliverance, so Psalm 21 begins with a similar reference to the king (21:1) rejoicing in the strength of Yahweh, which provides the king with victories. The appearance at the end and beginning of the identical term melek (“king”)3 links these two psalms together—this time in a relationship of plea (Ps. 20) and response (Ps. 21). The king rejoices in the deliverance promised in Psalm 20.

It is not clear from Psalm 21 whether the king has already experienced the salvation promised in Psalm 20. In fact, the opposite seems to be true, since 21:8–12 anticipate a divine reckoning with the enemy that lies in the future. Perhaps Psalm 21 represents a liturgical response to the promise of deliverance and victory rather than to the fulfillment of that promise. Having heard the prophetic decree of victory in 20:6, the king responds in joyful trust, looking forward to fulfillment.

Bridging Contexts

THE VICTORIES YOU GIVE. The first section of Psalm 21 is bracketed by the appearance of the identical term (bišuʿatka) at beginning (21:1) and near the end (21:5). The presence of this word provides a thematic focus for this section on the action of Yahweh in behalf of king and people. The NIV translation of this word as “victories” in both cases has applied interpretive pressure on the understanding of bišuʿatka in two ways.

(1) The term in the Hebrew is a singular noun, not plural as the NIV renders it.18 The plural rendering flies in the face of the text and tends to generalize the king’s experience of victory away from any particular historical circumstance (no longer recoverable) to which the original psalm might be responding. Such a shift from particular to general is consistent with the messianic reading of the royal psalms characteristic of the NIV.

(2) The base Hebrew noun yešuʿah more commonly means “salvation” or “deliverance” than “victory.” The use of “victories” rather than the more common “salvation” or “deliverance” is also consistent with the NIV’s messianic reading of the psalm. Since the Messiah brings salvation and deliverance rather than receives it, as does the king in Psalm 20, the shift to “victory” allows the king to appear to participate in the “victories” given through the power of God. The problem of such a rendering, in my opinion, is that it is not comfortable with the text and undermines the original, premessianic reading of the psalm.

This rendering also obscures the connection that links Psalms 20, 21, and 22 together. In Psalm 20 the people who are interceding for the king anticipate a resounding shout of joy bišuʿateka (lit., “when you are delivered,” 20:5).19 A singular voice confidently proclaims, “Now I know that the LORD saves [hošiaʿ ] his anointed” (20:6). Psalm 21 then describes the king rejoicing in the “salvation” provided by Yahweh (21:1, 5). The certainty of divine deliverance that marks these two psalms provides stark contrast with the failure of divine deliverance expressed in the plaintive cry with which Psalm 22 begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from my salvation [mišuʿati; NIV saving me]?” (22:1).20

What gives the king joy at the beginning of Psalm 21 is the deliverance provided by Yahweh, not the victory he himself accomplishes with divine empowerment. This interpretation is more consistent with the opening phrase of 21:1, where the king rejoices in Yahweh’s strength, not his own! It also fits well with the king’s spoken “request” (for deliverance?) in 21:2b and provides a strong foundation for the king’s “trust” in Yahweh that completes the section (21:7). While it is true that the final section of this psalm depicts military action that might seem appropriate for a “victory” celebration, it is Yahweh who is seen to defeat the enemy, and it is Yahweh whose strength is exalted at the close.

At the time of your appearing. Psalm 21 concludes with what might be called a “proto-apocalyptic” description of divine judgment on God’s enemies by a consuming fire. Judgment by fire is a common image in the Old Testament,21 and Yahweh himself is on a number of occasions called a “consuming fire,” a probable reference to the essential character of Yahweh and its destructive potential for those who see or approach it.22 I call this passage proto-apocalyptic because the Old Testament image of a consuming fire most often anticipates the destruction of immediate enemies rather than an eschatological consummation. While it is true that the prophetic oracles were looking into an indeterminate future at the time of their pronouncement, most had already seen fulfillment by the time of inscripturation, and only a few have clearly shifted their focus to the eschatological end times.23 That an apocalyptic interpretation ultimately ruled the day is indicated by an apparent allusion to these verses in James 5:3 in a clear context of eschatological consummation.24

Like the “consuming fire,” the image of a fiery furnace is also used of divine judgment or testing. A variety of Hebrew words are translated “furnace”—probably describing different kinds of furnaces employed for various purposes. The smoke rising from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is described in Genesis 19:28 “like smoke from a furnace.” Since this term is also used in Exodus as the source of soot employed by Moses to create the plague of boils (Ex. 9:10, 18), it may describe the kilns in which mud bricks were fired.

As a place of testing for Israel, Egypt itself is called on several occasions an “iron-smelting furnace [kur habbarzel]” (Deut. 4:20; 1 Kings 8:51; Jer. 11:4). Elsewhere the term kur appears as an indication of divine testing (Prov. 17:3; 27:21; Isa. 48:10) or judgment (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In these instances kur is connected with various metals that undergo refinement through smelting: gold (Prov. 17:3; 27:21); silver (Isa. 48:10); silver, copper, tin, iron, and lead (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In the narratives of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are thrown by the king of Babylon into a “blazing furnace” [Aram. ʾattun nuraʾ ], which the king intends as judgment but God uses as a test of their faithfulness.25

The term employed for “furnace” in our passage is the Hebrew tannur, which most often describes an oven for baking.26 On the two occasions other than our psalm that the NIV translates this term “furnace,” divine judgment is clearly in mind. In Isaiah 31:9, Assyria will panic and flee before the supernatural intervention of Yahweh, “whose fire is in Zion, whose furnace is in Jerusalem.” Malachi offers a distinctly eschatological and apocalyptic setting when he declares: “ ‘Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘Not a root or a branch will be left to them’ ” (Mal. 4:1).

The concept of a fiery furnace as an image of the eschatological judgment reappears in the New Testament. Jesus tells two parables of the end times in Matthew 13—one of pulling out weeds at “the end of the age” (13:37–43) and the other describing the separation of good and bad fish (13:47–50). Both conclude with similar warnings that the wicked will be thrown into “the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (cf. 13:42, 50).

The use in both Old and New Testaments of similar images of fiery eschatological judgment emphasizes the continuity that binds these two scriptural collections together. Such continuity of image, theme, and message flies in the face of any attempt to distinguish between Old and New Testaments by claiming the former proclaims a message of wrath and judgment while the latter is exclusively focused on gracious mercy and salvation.

The New Testament, of course, is a gospel of God’s gracious mercy poured out abundantly in Jesus Christ on those who will receive it. But the New Testament, even from the mouth of Jesus himself (Matt. 13:42, 50), makes it abundantly clear that God is still in his essential nature a “consuming fire” (Heb. 12:29), who cannot be trifled with—a consuming fire who can receive the sacrifices of the repentant and turn them into restoration. But at the same time God’s consuming fire must consume those who align themselves with evil and refuse to accept his mercy. The eschatological warning of both Testaments is unmistakable: Those who persist in resisting God’s will and purposes will suffer the same fate as stubble consigned to the furnace or dross left behind in the refining process.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PSALM 20, the picture and attitude of the king serve as an appropriate model for the individual believer seeking guidance for his or her own life.27 Characteristic of Israelite kingship was a tension that most of us face almost daily. If you look at the early narratives of the origins of Israel’s monarchy, this tension is very apparent. The kings constantly struggled with competing demands. On the one hand, the people wanted them to become political and military leaders winning victories against Israel’s enemies. On the other hand, God reluctantly called them while demanding them to forego the normal kingly reliance on military, political, and financial power in order to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh.

The stories of Saul illustrate just how difficult it was to keep these demands in proper perspective. Twice God rebuked Saul through Samuel for failing to remember his proper role. Early on Saul failed to trust in Yahweh by waiting for Samuel’s appearance before a battle. Instead, seeing the enemy troops massing and his own fearful army dwindling away, he manipulated the sacrificial offering in order to ensure military victory (1 Sam. 13:1–15). Later Saul allowed himself to be swayed by popular pressure into resisting the complete annihilation of the Amalekites as demanded by Yahweh (15:1–34). In both instances Saul saw victory and popular acceptance as more important than leading the people to fear Yahweh and rely on him alone. Thus, the kingship was taken away from Saul and his family (15:17–26).

The same tension is evident in the description of appropriate kingship found in Deuteronomy 17:14–20, where God permits kingship with a series of limiting caveats. The king must be a native Israelite. He must not multiply horses, wives, gold, or silver. Moreover, he must refer often to the law of Yahweh and live carefully by it. Under these conditions, God promises, “he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in Israel” (17:20).

The references to horses, wives, gold, and silver, while not immediately clear, are nevertheless fairly transparent in their intent. Horses were the essential component for creating a corps of horse-drawn chariotry—the A-bomb of military technology of the day. In essence the kings were being told not to rely on military power!

Multiple marriages were the means by which ancient kings cemented political treaties and relationships with foreign nations. Such treaties helped to normalize relationships and provided weaker powers with strong partners with whom to resist the pressures from the major powers bearing down on them. By rejecting such political maneuvering, the kings were asked to give up another source of kingly power in favor of reliance on Yahweh alone.

The final reference to gold and silver is by now more clear. Financial power has always been one of the necessary trappings of political and military power. How else can a king pay and supply a standing army? How else can great building campaigns be carried forward? Once again the kings of Israel were expected to eschew one of the most important features of national leadership—financial power.

Rather than the usual forms of kingly power, therefore, the kings were required to bind themselves to keep the law of Yahweh and to rely on him alone. It is no accident that Deuteronomy 17:14–20 reflects clearly and negatively on the kingship of Solomon, who served at once in Israel as the great king of wisdom and the epitome of folly (1 Kings 9:1–11:13). Solomon’s kingship violated all three of the expectations laid down in Deuteronomy 17. He amassed a huge chariotry force by trading horses throughout the Near East. His large number of wives is well known—many of whom (like the daughter of Pharaoh) were political marriages as described above. And Solomon’s opulent wealth was legendary. Massive amounts of gold and silver—derived through a harsh taxation policy—shored up his military expansion, political relationships, and economical development.

Yet, this great royal power was not matched by an equal dedication to the law of Yahweh. Solomon’s folly led him to introduce foreign worship in Jerusalem, by which the people were led astray from loyalty to and reliance on Yahweh alone. For this reason much of his kingdom was taken away from his descendants.

We face similar tensions in our own lives on a daily basis. Constantly we must choose between self-power and relying on Yahweh alone. We want to be in control of our lives, and we want to take the credit for the victories we achieve. Yet we are too often forced to admit—by circumstances, by our own failures—just how little control we really have over our lives. We cannot even control our own desires or discipline our use of time, money, or the TV! How can we hope to exert influence on our children, world politics, natural forces, or even the drunken driver careening along the highway?

Many twelve-step programs incorporate an admission of “powerlessness” as the first step of the program: “Admitted we were powerless over [our compulsions], that our lives had become unmanageable.” Rather than fostering despair, however, the program moves on to a second step: “Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.” And the third step models a life-saving step from “I am able” to “He is able,” when it says: “Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to God. . . .”

Psalm 21:1–7 mirrors just such a recognition of personal powerlessness and a turning to the power of God. It is in this context of surrender that the translation of yešuʿatka in verses 1 and 5 should take its meaning. The subtle difference between the NIV’s “victories” (implying an accomplishment of the king) and the alternate rendering of “salvation” or “deliverance” (implying the powerful action of Yahweh) is important. The whole context here is one of trust in and reliance on the “strength” of Yahweh (21:1). The real actor in these verses is Yahweh, not the king. Yahweh gives salvation (21:1, 5a), grants the desires of the king’s heart and the request of his lips (21:2), crowns the king (21:3), gives abundant life (21:4), and provides the king with divine presence (21:6). King has only to ask (21:2, 4), and God responds. In such a context of divine power, it seems most appropriate to translate yešuʿatka as “your salvation” or “your deliverance” rather than “victories.”

Similarly, in our own lives such a subtle difference can make a world of difference in how we perceive God working in us. Do we understand our victories—however great or small—as God’s deliverance? Or do we see our own power and ability in our accomplishments? An excerpt from the Third-Step Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous walks a narrow line between personal victory and divine deliverance: “Take away my difficulties that victory over them might bear witness to those I would help of your power, your love, and your way of life.” Victory here, as in Psalm 21, is divine deliverance. It is God who takes away our difficulties, and our testimony is to his power made manifest in our weakness.28 Ask any recovering addict how they can resist their addictive compulsions, and they will tell you, “I can’t. God can, if I let him!”

When the king (and we) surrender our weakness to God’s strength, we experience not only “salvation” but “eternal blessings” (21:6a) as well. Those blessings include divine honor, symbolized here by a “crown of pure gold,” and the gift of “glory . . . splendor and majesty” (21:5).29 As mentioned in the comments on 21:2–6, these three are visible ornaments of royal power and public prestige: public dignity, regal bearing, and splendid dress. They are transitory and passing glories, which may fade and vanish with age or loss of power and wealth. But the psalmist promises the king “eternal blessings” (21:6), which are filled out in the following verses: the joy of God’s presence (21:6b), God’s unfailing love (21:7b), and an unshakable foundation (21:7c). These gifts cannot be taken away as long as the king (and we) trust in Yahweh (21:7a).

As I read again and again through the verses of Psalm 21, phrases from the great traditional hymn “How Firm a Foundation” begin to echo through my mind. To my knowledge this hymn is nowhere claimed to be based on Psalm 21, but the more I listen, the more connection I can see. “How firm a foundation . . . is laid for your faith. . . . Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my gracious, omnipotent hand. . . . That [trusting] soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake!” Note again the psalmist’s praise in 21:13:

Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength;

we will sing and praise your might.

Original Meaning

Blessing on the King (21:2–6)

DESIRE OF HIS HEART . . . request of his lips. The king is a model of integrity; what he desires in his heart he requests with his lips. Inward motivation and outward speech agree. This is the same kind of integrity of inward and outward being that is exhorted in the concluding plea of Psalm 19:14, where spoken words and heart meditation also agree.

The king’s desire for deliverance is an intense and eager desire, parallel to the kind of desire that drives a groom to negotiate an engagement for the woman he wishes to marry. The term translated “request” in 21:2b is related to the verbal root ʾrš (“become betrothed, arrange an engagement”). The link between “desire” and “request” seems to be that of a potential groom, for whom “desire” for a woman leads to negotiation (“request”) for engagement. Inward motivation and outer action are of a piece. In the case of the king described here, words of the mouth and meditation of the heart must be pleasing to Yahweh since both are “granted” (cf. Ps. 19:14).4

Blessings and . . . a crown. Yahweh’s response to the king’s integrity pours out in blessing. The psalmist uses a wordplay for those who have been reading their way through the consecutive Psalms 17–21. When he says that God “welcomes” (from qdm [“confront; meet”]) the king (21:3), the psalmist is using a word that has appeared three times with a very different meaning in Psalms 17 and 18 (cf. 17:13; 18:5, 18). In those earlier contexts, the confrontation described was a negative and threatening one. In 17:13 it is the enemies who are “confronted” by Yahweh and brought down. In 18:5 the “snares of death confront” and threaten to overwhelm the psalmist. In 18:18, once again the powerful enemies “confront” the psalmist, seeking to defeat him. As a result of this more normal use, the choice of qdm in the present context is a bit jarring and unexpected. But the psalmist uses the tension created to confound the reader’s expectations and heighten the sense of blessing and joy that attend Yahweh’s “confrontation” of the faithful.

The “crown [ʿaṭarah; perhaps better, ‘wreath’] of pure gold” that the king receives is to be distinguished from the coronation crown (nezer, from the root nzr [“to set apart, dedicate to God”]). The crown or wreath (of flowers, leaves, or sometimes gold)5 represented by ʿaṭarah is a gift of honor given to visiting dignitaries or guests at banquets. This rich gift, then, is a sign of the honor bestowed on the king by God—an open sign of divine approval for all to see.6

Life . . . glory . . . splendor and majesty. The psalm now turns to a more specific description of the blessing and honor poured out on the king by Yahweh. The king has asked for life, and God has given him abundant, long-lasting life. The descriptive ʾorek yamim (“length of days”) already means long life, and the psalmist adds to that ʿolam waʿed (“for ever and ever”), so there can be no doubt that Yahweh more than fulfills the king’s hopes and expectations.7

Divine support issues in more than life for the king. God’s presence also ensures “victory/deliverance,” which enhances the king’s stature and reputation with his people and with neighboring nations. Thus, the king is also said to receive from Yahweh “glory,” “splendor,” and “majesty.” “Glory” (kabod) is human dignity, reputation, and honor recognized by public opinion.8 “Splendor” (hod) refers more to impressive bearing than reputation, while “majesty” (hadar) refers to splendid dress and ornamentation.9 Because of Yahweh’s support, the king enjoys good public opinion as well as regal bearing and impressive dress.

Eternal blessings. The “rich blessings” bestowed on the king beginning in 21:3 are summed up as this section comes to a close. Note how the term “blessings” envelops the description of divine grace at beginning (21:3) and end (21:6), giving shape and closure to the passage. The “rich” blessings of 21:3 become (lit.) “blessings continuing into the future” in 21:6, and these continuing blessings are linked with the “joy of [God’s] presence” (21:6b).

Bridging Contexts

THE VICTORIES YOU GIVE. The first section of Psalm 21 is bracketed by the appearance of the identical term (bišuʿatka) at beginning (21:1) and near the end (21:5). The presence of this word provides a thematic focus for this section on the action of Yahweh in behalf of king and people. The NIV translation of this word as “victories” in both cases has applied interpretive pressure on the understanding of bišuʿatka in two ways.

(1) The term in the Hebrew is a singular noun, not plural as the NIV renders it.18 The plural rendering flies in the face of the text and tends to generalize the king’s experience of victory away from any particular historical circumstance (no longer recoverable) to which the original psalm might be responding. Such a shift from particular to general is consistent with the messianic reading of the royal psalms characteristic of the NIV.

(2) The base Hebrew noun yešuʿah more commonly means “salvation” or “deliverance” than “victory.” The use of “victories” rather than the more common “salvation” or “deliverance” is also consistent with the NIV’s messianic reading of the psalm. Since the Messiah brings salvation and deliverance rather than receives it, as does the king in Psalm 20, the shift to “victory” allows the king to appear to participate in the “victories” given through the power of God. The problem of such a rendering, in my opinion, is that it is not comfortable with the text and undermines the original, premessianic reading of the psalm.

This rendering also obscures the connection that links Psalms 20, 21, and 22 together. In Psalm 20 the people who are interceding for the king anticipate a resounding shout of joy bišuʿateka (lit., “when you are delivered,” 20:5).19 A singular voice confidently proclaims, “Now I know that the LORD saves [hošiaʿ ] his anointed” (20:6). Psalm 21 then describes the king rejoicing in the “salvation” provided by Yahweh (21:1, 5). The certainty of divine deliverance that marks these two psalms provides stark contrast with the failure of divine deliverance expressed in the plaintive cry with which Psalm 22 begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from my salvation [mišuʿati; NIV saving me]?” (22:1).20

What gives the king joy at the beginning of Psalm 21 is the deliverance provided by Yahweh, not the victory he himself accomplishes with divine empowerment. This interpretation is more consistent with the opening phrase of 21:1, where the king rejoices in Yahweh’s strength, not his own! It also fits well with the king’s spoken “request” (for deliverance?) in 21:2b and provides a strong foundation for the king’s “trust” in Yahweh that completes the section (21:7). While it is true that the final section of this psalm depicts military action that might seem appropriate for a “victory” celebration, it is Yahweh who is seen to defeat the enemy, and it is Yahweh whose strength is exalted at the close.

At the time of your appearing. Psalm 21 concludes with what might be called a “proto-apocalyptic” description of divine judgment on God’s enemies by a consuming fire. Judgment by fire is a common image in the Old Testament,21 and Yahweh himself is on a number of occasions called a “consuming fire,” a probable reference to the essential character of Yahweh and its destructive potential for those who see or approach it.22 I call this passage proto-apocalyptic because the Old Testament image of a consuming fire most often anticipates the destruction of immediate enemies rather than an eschatological consummation. While it is true that the prophetic oracles were looking into an indeterminate future at the time of their pronouncement, most had already seen fulfillment by the time of inscripturation, and only a few have clearly shifted their focus to the eschatological end times.23 That an apocalyptic interpretation ultimately ruled the day is indicated by an apparent allusion to these verses in James 5:3 in a clear context of eschatological consummation.24

Like the “consuming fire,” the image of a fiery furnace is also used of divine judgment or testing. A variety of Hebrew words are translated “furnace”—probably describing different kinds of furnaces employed for various purposes. The smoke rising from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is described in Genesis 19:28 “like smoke from a furnace.” Since this term is also used in Exodus as the source of soot employed by Moses to create the plague of boils (Ex. 9:10, 18), it may describe the kilns in which mud bricks were fired.

As a place of testing for Israel, Egypt itself is called on several occasions an “iron-smelting furnace [kur habbarzel]” (Deut. 4:20; 1 Kings 8:51; Jer. 11:4). Elsewhere the term kur appears as an indication of divine testing (Prov. 17:3; 27:21; Isa. 48:10) or judgment (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In these instances kur is connected with various metals that undergo refinement through smelting: gold (Prov. 17:3; 27:21); silver (Isa. 48:10); silver, copper, tin, iron, and lead (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In the narratives of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are thrown by the king of Babylon into a “blazing furnace” [Aram. ʾattun nuraʾ ], which the king intends as judgment but God uses as a test of their faithfulness.25

The term employed for “furnace” in our passage is the Hebrew tannur, which most often describes an oven for baking.26 On the two occasions other than our psalm that the NIV translates this term “furnace,” divine judgment is clearly in mind. In Isaiah 31:9, Assyria will panic and flee before the supernatural intervention of Yahweh, “whose fire is in Zion, whose furnace is in Jerusalem.” Malachi offers a distinctly eschatological and apocalyptic setting when he declares: “ ‘Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘Not a root or a branch will be left to them’ ” (Mal. 4:1).

The concept of a fiery furnace as an image of the eschatological judgment reappears in the New Testament. Jesus tells two parables of the end times in Matthew 13—one of pulling out weeds at “the end of the age” (13:37–43) and the other describing the separation of good and bad fish (13:47–50). Both conclude with similar warnings that the wicked will be thrown into “the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (cf. 13:42, 50).

The use in both Old and New Testaments of similar images of fiery eschatological judgment emphasizes the continuity that binds these two scriptural collections together. Such continuity of image, theme, and message flies in the face of any attempt to distinguish between Old and New Testaments by claiming the former proclaims a message of wrath and judgment while the latter is exclusively focused on gracious mercy and salvation.

The New Testament, of course, is a gospel of God’s gracious mercy poured out abundantly in Jesus Christ on those who will receive it. But the New Testament, even from the mouth of Jesus himself (Matt. 13:42, 50), makes it abundantly clear that God is still in his essential nature a “consuming fire” (Heb. 12:29), who cannot be trifled with—a consuming fire who can receive the sacrifices of the repentant and turn them into restoration. But at the same time God’s consuming fire must consume those who align themselves with evil and refuse to accept his mercy. The eschatological warning of both Testaments is unmistakable: Those who persist in resisting God’s will and purposes will suffer the same fate as stubble consigned to the furnace or dross left behind in the refining process.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PSALM 20, the picture and attitude of the king serve as an appropriate model for the individual believer seeking guidance for his or her own life.27 Characteristic of Israelite kingship was a tension that most of us face almost daily. If you look at the early narratives of the origins of Israel’s monarchy, this tension is very apparent. The kings constantly struggled with competing demands. On the one hand, the people wanted them to become political and military leaders winning victories against Israel’s enemies. On the other hand, God reluctantly called them while demanding them to forego the normal kingly reliance on military, political, and financial power in order to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh.

The stories of Saul illustrate just how difficult it was to keep these demands in proper perspective. Twice God rebuked Saul through Samuel for failing to remember his proper role. Early on Saul failed to trust in Yahweh by waiting for Samuel’s appearance before a battle. Instead, seeing the enemy troops massing and his own fearful army dwindling away, he manipulated the sacrificial offering in order to ensure military victory (1 Sam. 13:1–15). Later Saul allowed himself to be swayed by popular pressure into resisting the complete annihilation of the Amalekites as demanded by Yahweh (15:1–34). In both instances Saul saw victory and popular acceptance as more important than leading the people to fear Yahweh and rely on him alone. Thus, the kingship was taken away from Saul and his family (15:17–26).

The same tension is evident in the description of appropriate kingship found in Deuteronomy 17:14–20, where God permits kingship with a series of limiting caveats. The king must be a native Israelite. He must not multiply horses, wives, gold, or silver. Moreover, he must refer often to the law of Yahweh and live carefully by it. Under these conditions, God promises, “he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in Israel” (17:20).

The references to horses, wives, gold, and silver, while not immediately clear, are nevertheless fairly transparent in their intent. Horses were the essential component for creating a corps of horse-drawn chariotry—the A-bomb of military technology of the day. In essence the kings were being told not to rely on military power!

Multiple marriages were the means by which ancient kings cemented political treaties and relationships with foreign nations. Such treaties helped to normalize relationships and provided weaker powers with strong partners with whom to resist the pressures from the major powers bearing down on them. By rejecting such political maneuvering, the kings were asked to give up another source of kingly power in favor of reliance on Yahweh alone.

The final reference to gold and silver is by now more clear. Financial power has always been one of the necessary trappings of political and military power. How else can a king pay and supply a standing army? How else can great building campaigns be carried forward? Once again the kings of Israel were expected to eschew one of the most important features of national leadership—financial power.

Rather than the usual forms of kingly power, therefore, the kings were required to bind themselves to keep the law of Yahweh and to rely on him alone. It is no accident that Deuteronomy 17:14–20 reflects clearly and negatively on the kingship of Solomon, who served at once in Israel as the great king of wisdom and the epitome of folly (1 Kings 9:1–11:13). Solomon’s kingship violated all three of the expectations laid down in Deuteronomy 17. He amassed a huge chariotry force by trading horses throughout the Near East. His large number of wives is well known—many of whom (like the daughter of Pharaoh) were political marriages as described above. And Solomon’s opulent wealth was legendary. Massive amounts of gold and silver—derived through a harsh taxation policy—shored up his military expansion, political relationships, and economical development.

Yet, this great royal power was not matched by an equal dedication to the law of Yahweh. Solomon’s folly led him to introduce foreign worship in Jerusalem, by which the people were led astray from loyalty to and reliance on Yahweh alone. For this reason much of his kingdom was taken away from his descendants.

We face similar tensions in our own lives on a daily basis. Constantly we must choose between self-power and relying on Yahweh alone. We want to be in control of our lives, and we want to take the credit for the victories we achieve. Yet we are too often forced to admit—by circumstances, by our own failures—just how little control we really have over our lives. We cannot even control our own desires or discipline our use of time, money, or the TV! How can we hope to exert influence on our children, world politics, natural forces, or even the drunken driver careening along the highway?

Many twelve-step programs incorporate an admission of “powerlessness” as the first step of the program: “Admitted we were powerless over [our compulsions], that our lives had become unmanageable.” Rather than fostering despair, however, the program moves on to a second step: “Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.” And the third step models a life-saving step from “I am able” to “He is able,” when it says: “Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to God. . . .”

Psalm 21:1–7 mirrors just such a recognition of personal powerlessness and a turning to the power of God. It is in this context of surrender that the translation of yešuʿatka in verses 1 and 5 should take its meaning. The subtle difference between the NIV’s “victories” (implying an accomplishment of the king) and the alternate rendering of “salvation” or “deliverance” (implying the powerful action of Yahweh) is important. The whole context here is one of trust in and reliance on the “strength” of Yahweh (21:1). The real actor in these verses is Yahweh, not the king. Yahweh gives salvation (21:1, 5a), grants the desires of the king’s heart and the request of his lips (21:2), crowns the king (21:3), gives abundant life (21:4), and provides the king with divine presence (21:6). King has only to ask (21:2, 4), and God responds. In such a context of divine power, it seems most appropriate to translate yešuʿatka as “your salvation” or “your deliverance” rather than “victories.”

Similarly, in our own lives such a subtle difference can make a world of difference in how we perceive God working in us. Do we understand our victories—however great or small—as God’s deliverance? Or do we see our own power and ability in our accomplishments? An excerpt from the Third-Step Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous walks a narrow line between personal victory and divine deliverance: “Take away my difficulties that victory over them might bear witness to those I would help of your power, your love, and your way of life.” Victory here, as in Psalm 21, is divine deliverance. It is God who takes away our difficulties, and our testimony is to his power made manifest in our weakness.28 Ask any recovering addict how they can resist their addictive compulsions, and they will tell you, “I can’t. God can, if I let him!”

When the king (and we) surrender our weakness to God’s strength, we experience not only “salvation” but “eternal blessings” (21:6a) as well. Those blessings include divine honor, symbolized here by a “crown of pure gold,” and the gift of “glory . . . splendor and majesty” (21:5).29 As mentioned in the comments on 21:2–6, these three are visible ornaments of royal power and public prestige: public dignity, regal bearing, and splendid dress. They are transitory and passing glories, which may fade and vanish with age or loss of power and wealth. But the psalmist promises the king “eternal blessings” (21:6), which are filled out in the following verses: the joy of God’s presence (21:6b), God’s unfailing love (21:7b), and an unshakable foundation (21:7c). These gifts cannot be taken away as long as the king (and we) trust in Yahweh (21:7a).

As I read again and again through the verses of Psalm 21, phrases from the great traditional hymn “How Firm a Foundation” begin to echo through my mind. To my knowledge this hymn is nowhere claimed to be based on Psalm 21, but the more I listen, the more connection I can see. “How firm a foundation . . . is laid for your faith. . . . Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my gracious, omnipotent hand. . . . That [trusting] soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake!” Note again the psalmist’s praise in 21:13:

Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength;

we will sing and praise your might.

Original Meaning

Confession of Trust (21:7)

VERSE 7 OCCUPIES the center point of the psalm and provides transition from the positive blessings of God on the faithful king to the negative judgment of God on the enemies. The distinctive nature of the verse is revealed by the appearance only here of third-person reference about Yahweh rather than the second-person address to him that dominates the rest of the psalm. In this central verse, the king responds to the description of divine blessing and presence with a confession of trust in Yahweh.

This confession of trust is introduced by the Hebrew particle ki (“for, because”)—an indication that his trust is grounded in the evidence of divine support provided by the preceding rehearsal of blessings. The king understands these blessings as evidence of Yahweh’s “unfailing love” (ḥesed), which denotes faithful loyalty to obligations assumed through a covenant relationship. The king (like the faithful intercessors of 20:7) trusts Yahweh because Yahweh has proven himself generous in blessing and because he is fiercely loyal and faithful to his covenant with king and people.10 Thus, the king is confident he will never be “shaken” (21:7).

Bridging Contexts

THE VICTORIES YOU GIVE. The first section of Psalm 21 is bracketed by the appearance of the identical term (bišuʿatka) at beginning (21:1) and near the end (21:5). The presence of this word provides a thematic focus for this section on the action of Yahweh in behalf of king and people. The NIV translation of this word as “victories” in both cases has applied interpretive pressure on the understanding of bišuʿatka in two ways.

(1) The term in the Hebrew is a singular noun, not plural as the NIV renders it.18 The plural rendering flies in the face of the text and tends to generalize the king’s experience of victory away from any particular historical circumstance (no longer recoverable) to which the original psalm might be responding. Such a shift from particular to general is consistent with the messianic reading of the royal psalms characteristic of the NIV.

(2) The base Hebrew noun yešuʿah more commonly means “salvation” or “deliverance” than “victory.” The use of “victories” rather than the more common “salvation” or “deliverance” is also consistent with the NIV’s messianic reading of the psalm. Since the Messiah brings salvation and deliverance rather than receives it, as does the king in Psalm 20, the shift to “victory” allows the king to appear to participate in the “victories” given through the power of God. The problem of such a rendering, in my opinion, is that it is not comfortable with the text and undermines the original, premessianic reading of the psalm.

This rendering also obscures the connection that links Psalms 20, 21, and 22 together. In Psalm 20 the people who are interceding for the king anticipate a resounding shout of joy bišuʿateka (lit., “when you are delivered,” 20:5).19 A singular voice confidently proclaims, “Now I know that the LORD saves [hošiaʿ ] his anointed” (20:6). Psalm 21 then describes the king rejoicing in the “salvation” provided by Yahweh (21:1, 5). The certainty of divine deliverance that marks these two psalms provides stark contrast with the failure of divine deliverance expressed in the plaintive cry with which Psalm 22 begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from my salvation [mišuʿati; NIV saving me]?” (22:1).20

What gives the king joy at the beginning of Psalm 21 is the deliverance provided by Yahweh, not the victory he himself accomplishes with divine empowerment. This interpretation is more consistent with the opening phrase of 21:1, where the king rejoices in Yahweh’s strength, not his own! It also fits well with the king’s spoken “request” (for deliverance?) in 21:2b and provides a strong foundation for the king’s “trust” in Yahweh that completes the section (21:7). While it is true that the final section of this psalm depicts military action that might seem appropriate for a “victory” celebration, it is Yahweh who is seen to defeat the enemy, and it is Yahweh whose strength is exalted at the close.

At the time of your appearing. Psalm 21 concludes with what might be called a “proto-apocalyptic” description of divine judgment on God’s enemies by a consuming fire. Judgment by fire is a common image in the Old Testament,21 and Yahweh himself is on a number of occasions called a “consuming fire,” a probable reference to the essential character of Yahweh and its destructive potential for those who see or approach it.22 I call this passage proto-apocalyptic because the Old Testament image of a consuming fire most often anticipates the destruction of immediate enemies rather than an eschatological consummation. While it is true that the prophetic oracles were looking into an indeterminate future at the time of their pronouncement, most had already seen fulfillment by the time of inscripturation, and only a few have clearly shifted their focus to the eschatological end times.23 That an apocalyptic interpretation ultimately ruled the day is indicated by an apparent allusion to these verses in James 5:3 in a clear context of eschatological consummation.24

Like the “consuming fire,” the image of a fiery furnace is also used of divine judgment or testing. A variety of Hebrew words are translated “furnace”—probably describing different kinds of furnaces employed for various purposes. The smoke rising from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is described in Genesis 19:28 “like smoke from a furnace.” Since this term is also used in Exodus as the source of soot employed by Moses to create the plague of boils (Ex. 9:10, 18), it may describe the kilns in which mud bricks were fired.

As a place of testing for Israel, Egypt itself is called on several occasions an “iron-smelting furnace [kur habbarzel]” (Deut. 4:20; 1 Kings 8:51; Jer. 11:4). Elsewhere the term kur appears as an indication of divine testing (Prov. 17:3; 27:21; Isa. 48:10) or judgment (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In these instances kur is connected with various metals that undergo refinement through smelting: gold (Prov. 17:3; 27:21); silver (Isa. 48:10); silver, copper, tin, iron, and lead (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In the narratives of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are thrown by the king of Babylon into a “blazing furnace” [Aram. ʾattun nuraʾ ], which the king intends as judgment but God uses as a test of their faithfulness.25

The term employed for “furnace” in our passage is the Hebrew tannur, which most often describes an oven for baking.26 On the two occasions other than our psalm that the NIV translates this term “furnace,” divine judgment is clearly in mind. In Isaiah 31:9, Assyria will panic and flee before the supernatural intervention of Yahweh, “whose fire is in Zion, whose furnace is in Jerusalem.” Malachi offers a distinctly eschatological and apocalyptic setting when he declares: “ ‘Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘Not a root or a branch will be left to them’ ” (Mal. 4:1).

The concept of a fiery furnace as an image of the eschatological judgment reappears in the New Testament. Jesus tells two parables of the end times in Matthew 13—one of pulling out weeds at “the end of the age” (13:37–43) and the other describing the separation of good and bad fish (13:47–50). Both conclude with similar warnings that the wicked will be thrown into “the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (cf. 13:42, 50).

The use in both Old and New Testaments of similar images of fiery eschatological judgment emphasizes the continuity that binds these two scriptural collections together. Such continuity of image, theme, and message flies in the face of any attempt to distinguish between Old and New Testaments by claiming the former proclaims a message of wrath and judgment while the latter is exclusively focused on gracious mercy and salvation.

The New Testament, of course, is a gospel of God’s gracious mercy poured out abundantly in Jesus Christ on those who will receive it. But the New Testament, even from the mouth of Jesus himself (Matt. 13:42, 50), makes it abundantly clear that God is still in his essential nature a “consuming fire” (Heb. 12:29), who cannot be trifled with—a consuming fire who can receive the sacrifices of the repentant and turn them into restoration. But at the same time God’s consuming fire must consume those who align themselves with evil and refuse to accept his mercy. The eschatological warning of both Testaments is unmistakable: Those who persist in resisting God’s will and purposes will suffer the same fate as stubble consigned to the furnace or dross left behind in the refining process.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PSALM 20, the picture and attitude of the king serve as an appropriate model for the individual believer seeking guidance for his or her own life.27 Characteristic of Israelite kingship was a tension that most of us face almost daily. If you look at the early narratives of the origins of Israel’s monarchy, this tension is very apparent. The kings constantly struggled with competing demands. On the one hand, the people wanted them to become political and military leaders winning victories against Israel’s enemies. On the other hand, God reluctantly called them while demanding them to forego the normal kingly reliance on military, political, and financial power in order to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh.

The stories of Saul illustrate just how difficult it was to keep these demands in proper perspective. Twice God rebuked Saul through Samuel for failing to remember his proper role. Early on Saul failed to trust in Yahweh by waiting for Samuel’s appearance before a battle. Instead, seeing the enemy troops massing and his own fearful army dwindling away, he manipulated the sacrificial offering in order to ensure military victory (1 Sam. 13:1–15). Later Saul allowed himself to be swayed by popular pressure into resisting the complete annihilation of the Amalekites as demanded by Yahweh (15:1–34). In both instances Saul saw victory and popular acceptance as more important than leading the people to fear Yahweh and rely on him alone. Thus, the kingship was taken away from Saul and his family (15:17–26).

The same tension is evident in the description of appropriate kingship found in Deuteronomy 17:14–20, where God permits kingship with a series of limiting caveats. The king must be a native Israelite. He must not multiply horses, wives, gold, or silver. Moreover, he must refer often to the law of Yahweh and live carefully by it. Under these conditions, God promises, “he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in Israel” (17:20).

The references to horses, wives, gold, and silver, while not immediately clear, are nevertheless fairly transparent in their intent. Horses were the essential component for creating a corps of horse-drawn chariotry—the A-bomb of military technology of the day. In essence the kings were being told not to rely on military power!

Multiple marriages were the means by which ancient kings cemented political treaties and relationships with foreign nations. Such treaties helped to normalize relationships and provided weaker powers with strong partners with whom to resist the pressures from the major powers bearing down on them. By rejecting such political maneuvering, the kings were asked to give up another source of kingly power in favor of reliance on Yahweh alone.

The final reference to gold and silver is by now more clear. Financial power has always been one of the necessary trappings of political and military power. How else can a king pay and supply a standing army? How else can great building campaigns be carried forward? Once again the kings of Israel were expected to eschew one of the most important features of national leadership—financial power.

Rather than the usual forms of kingly power, therefore, the kings were required to bind themselves to keep the law of Yahweh and to rely on him alone. It is no accident that Deuteronomy 17:14–20 reflects clearly and negatively on the kingship of Solomon, who served at once in Israel as the great king of wisdom and the epitome of folly (1 Kings 9:1–11:13). Solomon’s kingship violated all three of the expectations laid down in Deuteronomy 17. He amassed a huge chariotry force by trading horses throughout the Near East. His large number of wives is well known—many of whom (like the daughter of Pharaoh) were political marriages as described above. And Solomon’s opulent wealth was legendary. Massive amounts of gold and silver—derived through a harsh taxation policy—shored up his military expansion, political relationships, and economical development.

Yet, this great royal power was not matched by an equal dedication to the law of Yahweh. Solomon’s folly led him to introduce foreign worship in Jerusalem, by which the people were led astray from loyalty to and reliance on Yahweh alone. For this reason much of his kingdom was taken away from his descendants.

We face similar tensions in our own lives on a daily basis. Constantly we must choose between self-power and relying on Yahweh alone. We want to be in control of our lives, and we want to take the credit for the victories we achieve. Yet we are too often forced to admit—by circumstances, by our own failures—just how little control we really have over our lives. We cannot even control our own desires or discipline our use of time, money, or the TV! How can we hope to exert influence on our children, world politics, natural forces, or even the drunken driver careening along the highway?

Many twelve-step programs incorporate an admission of “powerlessness” as the first step of the program: “Admitted we were powerless over [our compulsions], that our lives had become unmanageable.” Rather than fostering despair, however, the program moves on to a second step: “Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.” And the third step models a life-saving step from “I am able” to “He is able,” when it says: “Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to God. . . .”

Psalm 21:1–7 mirrors just such a recognition of personal powerlessness and a turning to the power of God. It is in this context of surrender that the translation of yešuʿatka in verses 1 and 5 should take its meaning. The subtle difference between the NIV’s “victories” (implying an accomplishment of the king) and the alternate rendering of “salvation” or “deliverance” (implying the powerful action of Yahweh) is important. The whole context here is one of trust in and reliance on the “strength” of Yahweh (21:1). The real actor in these verses is Yahweh, not the king. Yahweh gives salvation (21:1, 5a), grants the desires of the king’s heart and the request of his lips (21:2), crowns the king (21:3), gives abundant life (21:4), and provides the king with divine presence (21:6). King has only to ask (21:2, 4), and God responds. In such a context of divine power, it seems most appropriate to translate yešuʿatka as “your salvation” or “your deliverance” rather than “victories.”

Similarly, in our own lives such a subtle difference can make a world of difference in how we perceive God working in us. Do we understand our victories—however great or small—as God’s deliverance? Or do we see our own power and ability in our accomplishments? An excerpt from the Third-Step Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous walks a narrow line between personal victory and divine deliverance: “Take away my difficulties that victory over them might bear witness to those I would help of your power, your love, and your way of life.” Victory here, as in Psalm 21, is divine deliverance. It is God who takes away our difficulties, and our testimony is to his power made manifest in our weakness.28 Ask any recovering addict how they can resist their addictive compulsions, and they will tell you, “I can’t. God can, if I let him!”

When the king (and we) surrender our weakness to God’s strength, we experience not only “salvation” but “eternal blessings” (21:6a) as well. Those blessings include divine honor, symbolized here by a “crown of pure gold,” and the gift of “glory . . . splendor and majesty” (21:5).29 As mentioned in the comments on 21:2–6, these three are visible ornaments of royal power and public prestige: public dignity, regal bearing, and splendid dress. They are transitory and passing glories, which may fade and vanish with age or loss of power and wealth. But the psalmist promises the king “eternal blessings” (21:6), which are filled out in the following verses: the joy of God’s presence (21:6b), God’s unfailing love (21:7b), and an unshakable foundation (21:7c). These gifts cannot be taken away as long as the king (and we) trust in Yahweh (21:7a).

As I read again and again through the verses of Psalm 21, phrases from the great traditional hymn “How Firm a Foundation” begin to echo through my mind. To my knowledge this hymn is nowhere claimed to be based on Psalm 21, but the more I listen, the more connection I can see. “How firm a foundation . . . is laid for your faith. . . . Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my gracious, omnipotent hand. . . . That [trusting] soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake!” Note again the psalmist’s praise in 21:13:

Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength;

we will sing and praise your might.

Original Meaning

Divine Judgment on the Enemy (21:8–12)

THE PRESENCE OF God is a two-edged sword. For the faithful who trust in him, God brings blessing and salvation, while for the rebellious who resist his rule, God’s coming means judgment. In 21:8–12, the psalmist describes the hoped-for consequences of Yahweh’s “appearing” (21:9a) on the enemy. That we are beyond the king’s reflective confession of trust is indicated by the return to second-person direct address of Yahweh (“your enemies,” “your foes”).

Yahweh will “lay hold, seize” his opponents (an unusual translation of timṣaʾ [“will find”]),11 and his presence will become for them a time of destruction rather than blessing. Their end is described in terms of a “fiery furnace” that consumes them as a consequence of divine wrath.12 The fire illustrates the destructive consequence of rebellious humans coming into the presence of the theophanic glory of God.13 God—through a consuming fire—is depicted as “swallowing up” and “consuming” his opponents.

Their descendants . . . their posterity. The destruction is viewed as so total that the enemies’ descendants will be destroyed as well. Rather than later divine attacks on the descendants, this probably means that as a consequence of the complete elimination of the present generation of rebellious enemies, future generations will never come into existence.14

They cannot succeed. That the catastrophic fire is apocalyptic imagery is suggested by the return in 21:11 to the psalmist’s real-life context. Surrounded by enemies who “plot evil” and “devise wicked schemes,” the psalmist is confident they will not succeed in their plans.15 The defeat pictured in these verses, however, is military defeat, when the enemies “turn their backs” and flee because of the supportive strength of Yahweh (21:12). Yahweh is here the “divine warrior,”16 who stands beside the king with “drawn bow” to frustrate the plans of the enemy.

Bridging Contexts

THE VICTORIES YOU GIVE. The first section of Psalm 21 is bracketed by the appearance of the identical term (bišuʿatka) at beginning (21:1) and near the end (21:5). The presence of this word provides a thematic focus for this section on the action of Yahweh in behalf of king and people. The NIV translation of this word as “victories” in both cases has applied interpretive pressure on the understanding of bišuʿatka in two ways.

(1) The term in the Hebrew is a singular noun, not plural as the NIV renders it.18 The plural rendering flies in the face of the text and tends to generalize the king’s experience of victory away from any particular historical circumstance (no longer recoverable) to which the original psalm might be responding. Such a shift from particular to general is consistent with the messianic reading of the royal psalms characteristic of the NIV.

(2) The base Hebrew noun yešuʿah more commonly means “salvation” or “deliverance” than “victory.” The use of “victories” rather than the more common “salvation” or “deliverance” is also consistent with the NIV’s messianic reading of the psalm. Since the Messiah brings salvation and deliverance rather than receives it, as does the king in Psalm 20, the shift to “victory” allows the king to appear to participate in the “victories” given through the power of God. The problem of such a rendering, in my opinion, is that it is not comfortable with the text and undermines the original, premessianic reading of the psalm.

This rendering also obscures the connection that links Psalms 20, 21, and 22 together. In Psalm 20 the people who are interceding for the king anticipate a resounding shout of joy bišuʿateka (lit., “when you are delivered,” 20:5).19 A singular voice confidently proclaims, “Now I know that the LORD saves [hošiaʿ ] his anointed” (20:6). Psalm 21 then describes the king rejoicing in the “salvation” provided by Yahweh (21:1, 5). The certainty of divine deliverance that marks these two psalms provides stark contrast with the failure of divine deliverance expressed in the plaintive cry with which Psalm 22 begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from my salvation [mišuʿati; NIV saving me]?” (22:1).20

What gives the king joy at the beginning of Psalm 21 is the deliverance provided by Yahweh, not the victory he himself accomplishes with divine empowerment. This interpretation is more consistent with the opening phrase of 21:1, where the king rejoices in Yahweh’s strength, not his own! It also fits well with the king’s spoken “request” (for deliverance?) in 21:2b and provides a strong foundation for the king’s “trust” in Yahweh that completes the section (21:7). While it is true that the final section of this psalm depicts military action that might seem appropriate for a “victory” celebration, it is Yahweh who is seen to defeat the enemy, and it is Yahweh whose strength is exalted at the close.

At the time of your appearing. Psalm 21 concludes with what might be called a “proto-apocalyptic” description of divine judgment on God’s enemies by a consuming fire. Judgment by fire is a common image in the Old Testament,21 and Yahweh himself is on a number of occasions called a “consuming fire,” a probable reference to the essential character of Yahweh and its destructive potential for those who see or approach it.22 I call this passage proto-apocalyptic because the Old Testament image of a consuming fire most often anticipates the destruction of immediate enemies rather than an eschatological consummation. While it is true that the prophetic oracles were looking into an indeterminate future at the time of their pronouncement, most had already seen fulfillment by the time of inscripturation, and only a few have clearly shifted their focus to the eschatological end times.23 That an apocalyptic interpretation ultimately ruled the day is indicated by an apparent allusion to these verses in James 5:3 in a clear context of eschatological consummation.24

Like the “consuming fire,” the image of a fiery furnace is also used of divine judgment or testing. A variety of Hebrew words are translated “furnace”—probably describing different kinds of furnaces employed for various purposes. The smoke rising from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is described in Genesis 19:28 “like smoke from a furnace.” Since this term is also used in Exodus as the source of soot employed by Moses to create the plague of boils (Ex. 9:10, 18), it may describe the kilns in which mud bricks were fired.

As a place of testing for Israel, Egypt itself is called on several occasions an “iron-smelting furnace [kur habbarzel]” (Deut. 4:20; 1 Kings 8:51; Jer. 11:4). Elsewhere the term kur appears as an indication of divine testing (Prov. 17:3; 27:21; Isa. 48:10) or judgment (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In these instances kur is connected with various metals that undergo refinement through smelting: gold (Prov. 17:3; 27:21); silver (Isa. 48:10); silver, copper, tin, iron, and lead (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In the narratives of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are thrown by the king of Babylon into a “blazing furnace” [Aram. ʾattun nuraʾ ], which the king intends as judgment but God uses as a test of their faithfulness.25

The term employed for “furnace” in our passage is the Hebrew tannur, which most often describes an oven for baking.26 On the two occasions other than our psalm that the NIV translates this term “furnace,” divine judgment is clearly in mind. In Isaiah 31:9, Assyria will panic and flee before the supernatural intervention of Yahweh, “whose fire is in Zion, whose furnace is in Jerusalem.” Malachi offers a distinctly eschatological and apocalyptic setting when he declares: “ ‘Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘Not a root or a branch will be left to them’ ” (Mal. 4:1).

The concept of a fiery furnace as an image of the eschatological judgment reappears in the New Testament. Jesus tells two parables of the end times in Matthew 13—one of pulling out weeds at “the end of the age” (13:37–43) and the other describing the separation of good and bad fish (13:47–50). Both conclude with similar warnings that the wicked will be thrown into “the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (cf. 13:42, 50).

The use in both Old and New Testaments of similar images of fiery eschatological judgment emphasizes the continuity that binds these two scriptural collections together. Such continuity of image, theme, and message flies in the face of any attempt to distinguish between Old and New Testaments by claiming the former proclaims a message of wrath and judgment while the latter is exclusively focused on gracious mercy and salvation.

The New Testament, of course, is a gospel of God’s gracious mercy poured out abundantly in Jesus Christ on those who will receive it. But the New Testament, even from the mouth of Jesus himself (Matt. 13:42, 50), makes it abundantly clear that God is still in his essential nature a “consuming fire” (Heb. 12:29), who cannot be trifled with—a consuming fire who can receive the sacrifices of the repentant and turn them into restoration. But at the same time God’s consuming fire must consume those who align themselves with evil and refuse to accept his mercy. The eschatological warning of both Testaments is unmistakable: Those who persist in resisting God’s will and purposes will suffer the same fate as stubble consigned to the furnace or dross left behind in the refining process.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PSALM 20, the picture and attitude of the king serve as an appropriate model for the individual believer seeking guidance for his or her own life.27 Characteristic of Israelite kingship was a tension that most of us face almost daily. If you look at the early narratives of the origins of Israel’s monarchy, this tension is very apparent. The kings constantly struggled with competing demands. On the one hand, the people wanted them to become political and military leaders winning victories against Israel’s enemies. On the other hand, God reluctantly called them while demanding them to forego the normal kingly reliance on military, political, and financial power in order to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh.

The stories of Saul illustrate just how difficult it was to keep these demands in proper perspective. Twice God rebuked Saul through Samuel for failing to remember his proper role. Early on Saul failed to trust in Yahweh by waiting for Samuel’s appearance before a battle. Instead, seeing the enemy troops massing and his own fearful army dwindling away, he manipulated the sacrificial offering in order to ensure military victory (1 Sam. 13:1–15). Later Saul allowed himself to be swayed by popular pressure into resisting the complete annihilation of the Amalekites as demanded by Yahweh (15:1–34). In both instances Saul saw victory and popular acceptance as more important than leading the people to fear Yahweh and rely on him alone. Thus, the kingship was taken away from Saul and his family (15:17–26).

The same tension is evident in the description of appropriate kingship found in Deuteronomy 17:14–20, where God permits kingship with a series of limiting caveats. The king must be a native Israelite. He must not multiply horses, wives, gold, or silver. Moreover, he must refer often to the law of Yahweh and live carefully by it. Under these conditions, God promises, “he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in Israel” (17:20).

The references to horses, wives, gold, and silver, while not immediately clear, are nevertheless fairly transparent in their intent. Horses were the essential component for creating a corps of horse-drawn chariotry—the A-bomb of military technology of the day. In essence the kings were being told not to rely on military power!

Multiple marriages were the means by which ancient kings cemented political treaties and relationships with foreign nations. Such treaties helped to normalize relationships and provided weaker powers with strong partners with whom to resist the pressures from the major powers bearing down on them. By rejecting such political maneuvering, the kings were asked to give up another source of kingly power in favor of reliance on Yahweh alone.

The final reference to gold and silver is by now more clear. Financial power has always been one of the necessary trappings of political and military power. How else can a king pay and supply a standing army? How else can great building campaigns be carried forward? Once again the kings of Israel were expected to eschew one of the most important features of national leadership—financial power.

Rather than the usual forms of kingly power, therefore, the kings were required to bind themselves to keep the law of Yahweh and to rely on him alone. It is no accident that Deuteronomy 17:14–20 reflects clearly and negatively on the kingship of Solomon, who served at once in Israel as the great king of wisdom and the epitome of folly (1 Kings 9:1–11:13). Solomon’s kingship violated all three of the expectations laid down in Deuteronomy 17. He amassed a huge chariotry force by trading horses throughout the Near East. His large number of wives is well known—many of whom (like the daughter of Pharaoh) were political marriages as described above. And Solomon’s opulent wealth was legendary. Massive amounts of gold and silver—derived through a harsh taxation policy—shored up his military expansion, political relationships, and economical development.

Yet, this great royal power was not matched by an equal dedication to the law of Yahweh. Solomon’s folly led him to introduce foreign worship in Jerusalem, by which the people were led astray from loyalty to and reliance on Yahweh alone. For this reason much of his kingdom was taken away from his descendants.

We face similar tensions in our own lives on a daily basis. Constantly we must choose between self-power and relying on Yahweh alone. We want to be in control of our lives, and we want to take the credit for the victories we achieve. Yet we are too often forced to admit—by circumstances, by our own failures—just how little control we really have over our lives. We cannot even control our own desires or discipline our use of time, money, or the TV! How can we hope to exert influence on our children, world politics, natural forces, or even the drunken driver careening along the highway?

Many twelve-step programs incorporate an admission of “powerlessness” as the first step of the program: “Admitted we were powerless over [our compulsions], that our lives had become unmanageable.” Rather than fostering despair, however, the program moves on to a second step: “Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.” And the third step models a life-saving step from “I am able” to “He is able,” when it says: “Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to God. . . .”

Psalm 21:1–7 mirrors just such a recognition of personal powerlessness and a turning to the power of God. It is in this context of surrender that the translation of yešuʿatka in verses 1 and 5 should take its meaning. The subtle difference between the NIV’s “victories” (implying an accomplishment of the king) and the alternate rendering of “salvation” or “deliverance” (implying the powerful action of Yahweh) is important. The whole context here is one of trust in and reliance on the “strength” of Yahweh (21:1). The real actor in these verses is Yahweh, not the king. Yahweh gives salvation (21:1, 5a), grants the desires of the king’s heart and the request of his lips (21:2), crowns the king (21:3), gives abundant life (21:4), and provides the king with divine presence (21:6). King has only to ask (21:2, 4), and God responds. In such a context of divine power, it seems most appropriate to translate yešuʿatka as “your salvation” or “your deliverance” rather than “victories.”

Similarly, in our own lives such a subtle difference can make a world of difference in how we perceive God working in us. Do we understand our victories—however great or small—as God’s deliverance? Or do we see our own power and ability in our accomplishments? An excerpt from the Third-Step Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous walks a narrow line between personal victory and divine deliverance: “Take away my difficulties that victory over them might bear witness to those I would help of your power, your love, and your way of life.” Victory here, as in Psalm 21, is divine deliverance. It is God who takes away our difficulties, and our testimony is to his power made manifest in our weakness.28 Ask any recovering addict how they can resist their addictive compulsions, and they will tell you, “I can’t. God can, if I let him!”

When the king (and we) surrender our weakness to God’s strength, we experience not only “salvation” but “eternal blessings” (21:6a) as well. Those blessings include divine honor, symbolized here by a “crown of pure gold,” and the gift of “glory . . . splendor and majesty” (21:5).29 As mentioned in the comments on 21:2–6, these three are visible ornaments of royal power and public prestige: public dignity, regal bearing, and splendid dress. They are transitory and passing glories, which may fade and vanish with age or loss of power and wealth. But the psalmist promises the king “eternal blessings” (21:6), which are filled out in the following verses: the joy of God’s presence (21:6b), God’s unfailing love (21:7b), and an unshakable foundation (21:7c). These gifts cannot be taken away as long as the king (and we) trust in Yahweh (21:7a).

As I read again and again through the verses of Psalm 21, phrases from the great traditional hymn “How Firm a Foundation” begin to echo through my mind. To my knowledge this hymn is nowhere claimed to be based on Psalm 21, but the more I listen, the more connection I can see. “How firm a foundation . . . is laid for your faith. . . . Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my gracious, omnipotent hand. . . . That [trusting] soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake!” Note again the psalmist’s praise in 21:13:

Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength;

we will sing and praise your might.

Original Meaning

Concluding Praise of Yahweh’s Strength (21:13)

LIKE SO MANY psalms, Psalm 21 ends as it began, with a renewed promise of praise for Yahweh’s “strength” that supports the king and gives him victory. The final call is for Yahweh to be “raised up” or “exalted” because of his many acts of “strength.” The communal nature of this praise becomes clear in the second half of the verse, where the voice of the people breaks out in their promise to “sing” (a cohortative, meaning “let us sing”) and “praise” (“let us praise”) Yahweh’s “might” (geburah).17 Like Psalm 20, Psalm 21 is ultimately a psalm of the people who entreat God concerning the king’s need of divine help from Yahweh against his enemies.

Bridging Contexts

THE VICTORIES YOU GIVE. The first section of Psalm 21 is bracketed by the appearance of the identical term (bišuʿatka) at beginning (21:1) and near the end (21:5). The presence of this word provides a thematic focus for this section on the action of Yahweh in behalf of king and people. The NIV translation of this word as “victories” in both cases has applied interpretive pressure on the understanding of bišuʿatka in two ways.

(1) The term in the Hebrew is a singular noun, not plural as the NIV renders it.18 The plural rendering flies in the face of the text and tends to generalize the king’s experience of victory away from any particular historical circumstance (no longer recoverable) to which the original psalm might be responding. Such a shift from particular to general is consistent with the messianic reading of the royal psalms characteristic of the NIV.

(2) The base Hebrew noun yešuʿah more commonly means “salvation” or “deliverance” than “victory.” The use of “victories” rather than the more common “salvation” or “deliverance” is also consistent with the NIV’s messianic reading of the psalm. Since the Messiah brings salvation and deliverance rather than receives it, as does the king in Psalm 20, the shift to “victory” allows the king to appear to participate in the “victories” given through the power of God. The problem of such a rendering, in my opinion, is that it is not comfortable with the text and undermines the original, premessianic reading of the psalm.

This rendering also obscures the connection that links Psalms 20, 21, and 22 together. In Psalm 20 the people who are interceding for the king anticipate a resounding shout of joy bišuʿateka (lit., “when you are delivered,” 20:5).19 A singular voice confidently proclaims, “Now I know that the LORD saves [hošiaʿ ] his anointed” (20:6). Psalm 21 then describes the king rejoicing in the “salvation” provided by Yahweh (21:1, 5). The certainty of divine deliverance that marks these two psalms provides stark contrast with the failure of divine deliverance expressed in the plaintive cry with which Psalm 22 begins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from my salvation [mišuʿati; NIV saving me]?” (22:1).20

What gives the king joy at the beginning of Psalm 21 is the deliverance provided by Yahweh, not the victory he himself accomplishes with divine empowerment. This interpretation is more consistent with the opening phrase of 21:1, where the king rejoices in Yahweh’s strength, not his own! It also fits well with the king’s spoken “request” (for deliverance?) in 21:2b and provides a strong foundation for the king’s “trust” in Yahweh that completes the section (21:7). While it is true that the final section of this psalm depicts military action that might seem appropriate for a “victory” celebration, it is Yahweh who is seen to defeat the enemy, and it is Yahweh whose strength is exalted at the close.

At the time of your appearing. Psalm 21 concludes with what might be called a “proto-apocalyptic” description of divine judgment on God’s enemies by a consuming fire. Judgment by fire is a common image in the Old Testament,21 and Yahweh himself is on a number of occasions called a “consuming fire,” a probable reference to the essential character of Yahweh and its destructive potential for those who see or approach it.22 I call this passage proto-apocalyptic because the Old Testament image of a consuming fire most often anticipates the destruction of immediate enemies rather than an eschatological consummation. While it is true that the prophetic oracles were looking into an indeterminate future at the time of their pronouncement, most had already seen fulfillment by the time of inscripturation, and only a few have clearly shifted their focus to the eschatological end times.23 That an apocalyptic interpretation ultimately ruled the day is indicated by an apparent allusion to these verses in James 5:3 in a clear context of eschatological consummation.24

Like the “consuming fire,” the image of a fiery furnace is also used of divine judgment or testing. A variety of Hebrew words are translated “furnace”—probably describing different kinds of furnaces employed for various purposes. The smoke rising from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah is described in Genesis 19:28 “like smoke from a furnace.” Since this term is also used in Exodus as the source of soot employed by Moses to create the plague of boils (Ex. 9:10, 18), it may describe the kilns in which mud bricks were fired.

As a place of testing for Israel, Egypt itself is called on several occasions an “iron-smelting furnace [kur habbarzel]” (Deut. 4:20; 1 Kings 8:51; Jer. 11:4). Elsewhere the term kur appears as an indication of divine testing (Prov. 17:3; 27:21; Isa. 48:10) or judgment (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In these instances kur is connected with various metals that undergo refinement through smelting: gold (Prov. 17:3; 27:21); silver (Isa. 48:10); silver, copper, tin, iron, and lead (Ezek. 22:18, 20, 22). In the narratives of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are thrown by the king of Babylon into a “blazing furnace” [Aram. ʾattun nuraʾ ], which the king intends as judgment but God uses as a test of their faithfulness.25

The term employed for “furnace” in our passage is the Hebrew tannur, which most often describes an oven for baking.26 On the two occasions other than our psalm that the NIV translates this term “furnace,” divine judgment is clearly in mind. In Isaiah 31:9, Assyria will panic and flee before the supernatural intervention of Yahweh, “whose fire is in Zion, whose furnace is in Jerusalem.” Malachi offers a distinctly eschatological and apocalyptic setting when he declares: “ ‘Surely the day is coming; it will burn like a furnace. All the arrogant and every evildoer will be stubble, and that day that is coming will set them on fire,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘Not a root or a branch will be left to them’ ” (Mal. 4:1).

The concept of a fiery furnace as an image of the eschatological judgment reappears in the New Testament. Jesus tells two parables of the end times in Matthew 13—one of pulling out weeds at “the end of the age” (13:37–43) and the other describing the separation of good and bad fish (13:47–50). Both conclude with similar warnings that the wicked will be thrown into “the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (cf. 13:42, 50).

The use in both Old and New Testaments of similar images of fiery eschatological judgment emphasizes the continuity that binds these two scriptural collections together. Such continuity of image, theme, and message flies in the face of any attempt to distinguish between Old and New Testaments by claiming the former proclaims a message of wrath and judgment while the latter is exclusively focused on gracious mercy and salvation.

The New Testament, of course, is a gospel of God’s gracious mercy poured out abundantly in Jesus Christ on those who will receive it. But the New Testament, even from the mouth of Jesus himself (Matt. 13:42, 50), makes it abundantly clear that God is still in his essential nature a “consuming fire” (Heb. 12:29), who cannot be trifled with—a consuming fire who can receive the sacrifices of the repentant and turn them into restoration. But at the same time God’s consuming fire must consume those who align themselves with evil and refuse to accept his mercy. The eschatological warning of both Testaments is unmistakable: Those who persist in resisting God’s will and purposes will suffer the same fate as stubble consigned to the furnace or dross left behind in the refining process.

Contemporary Significance

AS IN PSALM 20, the picture and attitude of the king serve as an appropriate model for the individual believer seeking guidance for his or her own life.27 Characteristic of Israelite kingship was a tension that most of us face almost daily. If you look at the early narratives of the origins of Israel’s monarchy, this tension is very apparent. The kings constantly struggled with competing demands. On the one hand, the people wanted them to become political and military leaders winning victories against Israel’s enemies. On the other hand, God reluctantly called them while demanding them to forego the normal kingly reliance on military, political, and financial power in order to lead the people in the ways of Yahweh.

The stories of Saul illustrate just how difficult it was to keep these demands in proper perspective. Twice God rebuked Saul through Samuel for failing to remember his proper role. Early on Saul failed to trust in Yahweh by waiting for Samuel’s appearance before a battle. Instead, seeing the enemy troops massing and his own fearful army dwindling away, he manipulated the sacrificial offering in order to ensure military victory (1 Sam. 13:1–15). Later Saul allowed himself to be swayed by popular pressure into resisting the complete annihilation of the Amalekites as demanded by Yahweh (15:1–34). In both instances Saul saw victory and popular acceptance as more important than leading the people to fear Yahweh and rely on him alone. Thus, the kingship was taken away from Saul and his family (15:17–26).

The same tension is evident in the description of appropriate kingship found in Deuteronomy 17:14–20, where God permits kingship with a series of limiting caveats. The king must be a native Israelite. He must not multiply horses, wives, gold, or silver. Moreover, he must refer often to the law of Yahweh and live carefully by it. Under these conditions, God promises, “he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in Israel” (17:20).

The references to horses, wives, gold, and silver, while not immediately clear, are nevertheless fairly transparent in their intent. Horses were the essential component for creating a corps of horse-drawn chariotry—the A-bomb of military technology of the day. In essence the kings were being told not to rely on military power!

Multiple marriages were the means by which ancient kings cemented political treaties and relationships with foreign nations. Such treaties helped to normalize relationships and provided weaker powers with strong partners with whom to resist the pressures from the major powers bearing down on them. By rejecting such political maneuvering, the kings were asked to give up another source of kingly power in favor of reliance on Yahweh alone.

The final reference to gold and silver is by now more clear. Financial power has always been one of the necessary trappings of political and military power. How else can a king pay and supply a standing army? How else can great building campaigns be carried forward? Once again the kings of Israel were expected to eschew one of the most important features of national leadership—financial power.

Rather than the usual forms of kingly power, therefore, the kings were required to bind themselves to keep the law of Yahweh and to rely on him alone. It is no accident that Deuteronomy 17:14–20 reflects clearly and negatively on the kingship of Solomon, who served at once in Israel as the great king of wisdom and the epitome of folly (1 Kings 9:1–11:13). Solomon’s kingship violated all three of the expectations laid down in Deuteronomy 17. He amassed a huge chariotry force by trading horses throughout the Near East. His large number of wives is well known—many of whom (like the daughter of Pharaoh) were political marriages as described above. And Solomon’s opulent wealth was legendary. Massive amounts of gold and silver—derived through a harsh taxation policy—shored up his military expansion, political relationships, and economical development.

Yet, this great royal power was not matched by an equal dedication to the law of Yahweh. Solomon’s folly led him to introduce foreign worship in Jerusalem, by which the people were led astray from loyalty to and reliance on Yahweh alone. For this reason much of his kingdom was taken away from his descendants.

We face similar tensions in our own lives on a daily basis. Constantly we must choose between self-power and relying on Yahweh alone. We want to be in control of our lives, and we want to take the credit for the victories we achieve. Yet we are too often forced to admit—by circumstances, by our own failures—just how little control we really have over our lives. We cannot even control our own desires or discipline our use of time, money, or the TV! How can we hope to exert influence on our children, world politics, natural forces, or even the drunken driver careening along the highway?

Many twelve-step programs incorporate an admission of “powerlessness” as the first step of the program: “Admitted we were powerless over [our compulsions], that our lives had become unmanageable.” Rather than fostering despair, however, the program moves on to a second step: “Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.” And the third step models a life-saving step from “I am able” to “He is able,” when it says: “Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to God. . . .”

Psalm 21:1–7 mirrors just such a recognition of personal powerlessness and a turning to the power of God. It is in this context of surrender that the translation of yešuʿatka in verses 1 and 5 should take its meaning. The subtle difference between the NIV’s “victories” (implying an accomplishment of the king) and the alternate rendering of “salvation” or “deliverance” (implying the powerful action of Yahweh) is important. The whole context here is one of trust in and reliance on the “strength” of Yahweh (21:1). The real actor in these verses is Yahweh, not the king. Yahweh gives salvation (21:1, 5a), grants the desires of the king’s heart and the request of his lips (21:2), crowns the king (21:3), gives abundant life (21:4), and provides the king with divine presence (21:6). King has only to ask (21:2, 4), and God responds. In such a context of divine power, it seems most appropriate to translate yešuʿatka as “your salvation” or “your deliverance” rather than “victories.”

Similarly, in our own lives such a subtle difference can make a world of difference in how we perceive God working in us. Do we understand our victories—however great or small—as God’s deliverance? Or do we see our own power and ability in our accomplishments? An excerpt from the Third-Step Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous walks a narrow line between personal victory and divine deliverance: “Take away my difficulties that victory over them might bear witness to those I would help of your power, your love, and your way of life.” Victory here, as in Psalm 21, is divine deliverance. It is God who takes away our difficulties, and our testimony is to his power made manifest in our weakness.28 Ask any recovering addict how they can resist their addictive compulsions, and they will tell you, “I can’t. God can, if I let him!”

When the king (and we) surrender our weakness to God’s strength, we experience not only “salvation” but “eternal blessings” (21:6a) as well. Those blessings include divine honor, symbolized here by a “crown of pure gold,” and the gift of “glory . . . splendor and majesty” (21:5).29 As mentioned in the comments on 21:2–6, these three are visible ornaments of royal power and public prestige: public dignity, regal bearing, and splendid dress. They are transitory and passing glories, which may fade and vanish with age or loss of power and wealth. But the psalmist promises the king “eternal blessings” (21:6), which are filled out in the following verses: the joy of God’s presence (21:6b), God’s unfailing love (21:7b), and an unshakable foundation (21:7c). These gifts cannot be taken away as long as the king (and we) trust in Yahweh (21:7a).

As I read again and again through the verses of Psalm 21, phrases from the great traditional hymn “How Firm a Foundation” begin to echo through my mind. To my knowledge this hymn is nowhere claimed to be based on Psalm 21, but the more I listen, the more connection I can see. “How firm a foundation . . . is laid for your faith. . . . Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my gracious, omnipotent hand. . . . That [trusting] soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no, never, no, never forsake!” Note again the psalmist’s praise in 21:13:

Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength;

we will sing and praise your might.