Original Meaning
Heading (140:0)
THE SUPERSCRIPTION INCLUDES THE SAME three words found in Ps 139 but arranged differently. The first term is a directive, “For the director of music” (lamnatseah), a term likely referring to a worship or liturgical leader. The frequency of this directive in superscriptions across the Psalter indicates its importance in Israel’s cultic affairs. The precise role of the person it refers to, however, remains unclear. Other forms of the verb (natsah) appear in Ezra and 1–2 Chronicles in reference to those who supervise the affairs of the temple. The second term, mizmor, “a psalm,” refers to a song likely to be sung with instrumental accompaniment. In Book 5 the title is assigned only to psalms found in the two Davidic collections.3
As similarly with all the poems in this final Davidic collection, this psalm includes the superscription “Of David” (ledawid). On the figure of David in the final Davidic collection see Psalm 138, “Heading.”
Bridging Contexts
LIKE MANY LAMENT PSALMS, Psalm 140 reflects the reality of a world gone awry. As Walter Brueggemann and William Bellinger explain, this psalm “makes it unmistakable that evil and opposition to justice and faith pervade all of life.”16
The “unmistakable” nature of this reality can be observed more easily in some genres than in others. For example, through the power of story, narrative texts in the Hebrew Bible provide an explicit context for understanding the “opposition to justice and faith” in the world. Out of jealousy and rage, Cain lashes out against Abel (Gen 4). Out of lust and unchecked power, David has Uriah killed so that the king might have Bathsheba as his own (2 Sam 11). Out of greed, Ahab and Jezebel plan the demise of Naboth (1 Kgs 21). Narrative texts typically introduce the reader to characters, and often even to their motivations (2 Sam 11:16); in doing so, such texts construct a “world” for the reader to enter. These “worlds” give readers a glimpse of a world gone awry.
Poetic texts, however, can prove more challenging. Often the “personal” situation and the “ideological” situation merge in Hebrew poetry, thus making it difficult to determine the event or events associated with the petitions uttered by the poet.17
But it is precisely this merging of the personal and ideological that allows the language of any one psalm to transcend its particular context. One must not assume, however, that the ideological or metaphorical language adopted by the psalmist is disconnected from the world of reality itself. As Bernd Janowski explains,
Why doesn’t the supplicant say directly and straight-forwardly how he is doing? He actually says it bluntly—but in images! These images are not an illustration of intellectual content, an aesthetically-poetic embellishment of reality that might as well be absent, but they are an expression of an understanding of reality.18
In Psalm 140 the petitioner employs metaphors associated with serpents, war, and the hunt in an effort to describe his reality. While one of those metaphors alone would have communicated the sense of threat experienced by the psalmist, together all three portend a world that has been overrun by injustice and evil, a world that can only be righted by the Divine King. The psalmist petitions God directly in verses 1, 4, and 8, and then in a final declaration he confesses his hope in the faithfulness of God.
The New Testament writers quote or allude to the book of Psalms more than any other Old Testament book. In Romans 3:9–20 the apostle Paul appropriates Psalm 140:3 in his discussion of the pervasive nature of sin. But unlike the psalmist, who limits his discussion to the enemies, Paul expands the reach of sin by declaring that all people, Jews and gentiles alike, are under its power (v. 9). To construct his argument, Paul cites a series of Old Testament texts that reflect generally on the failure of humanity to “do good”—they prefer instead to turn away (Pss 14:1–3; 53:1–3; Eccl 7:20). In Romans 3:13–17 Paul structures his argument in a manner very similar to that in Psalm 140 by referring to the speech and action of all humans as indicative of their sinfulness. Their mouths are “open graves” that practice deceit. And quoting from Psalm 140:3, Paul says the “poison of vipers is on their lips.” The apostle shifts from speech to action in arguing that human conduct matches the depravity of our speech. Paul says that, like “the violent” who hunted down the psalmist (Ps 140:4–5), we are all “swift to shed blood” and that “the way of peace” is foreign to us (Rom 3:17).
In Psalm 140 the hope of the poet rests fully in the covenantal faithfulness of God to redeem him from “the pit.” Paul’s confession in Romans 3 reiterates that same claim. The opening section in the chapter (Rom 3:1–8), as well as the concluding section (vv. 21–31), refer to God’s faithfulness. In structuring the chapter in this manner, Paul affirms that the pervasive nature of sin can be matched and overcome only by the pervasive nature of God’s faithfulness. Paul both begins and ends the chapter by assuring readers of God’s faithfulness and our hope (vv. 3–4a; 24–25).
Contemporary Significance
IN THE OPENING PAGES of his book Divine Discourse: Philosophical Reflections on the Claim that God Speaks, Nicholas Wolterstorff wonders:
It remains part of the liturgy of many branches of the Christian church for the listeners to respond to the public reading of Scripture with some such words as, “This is the Word of the Lord”. . . . What is one saying in that? How would one go about interpreting the words read to discover what God said? And is it rationally acceptable to say, and mean it, that when sitting one morning in St. Mary’s church, or some evening in Oriel chapel, one heard something God had said—or something that God was saying?19
How does one hear the word of God in a text such as Psalm 140, a text described as “one of the less pleasing examples of a lamenting prayer?”20
Perhaps it is the unusual mix of metaphors that troubles the reader, or more likely it is the request that the enemies should receive on their own “heads” the evil they had planned that gives the reader pause. Regardless, this psalm reminds us of the highly disruptive nature of sin, evil, and injustice in the world. But even more, in the midst of such a disrupted world this psalm calls us to lean into our covenantal relationship with God, the one we have confessed as our “strong deliverer” and our shield.
Our society remains attuned to issues of injustice in the world, but frequently the accompanying rhetoric suggests that we alone must remedy sin, evil, and injustice. To be sure, there are biblical texts that call people to remedy injustice (Isa 58), but Psalm 140 is not one of them. Instead, this psalm invites us to turn to God fully, and with certainty, in the belief that God will once more “secure justice” and “uphold the cause of the needy.” In addition, this psalm provides us with an “understanding of reality,” as Janowski explained. We are reminded of the reality of evildoers and the presence of violent people in the world. We are reminded of the pervasive nature of sin and injustice. But even more, we are reminded that these evils do not have the last word. Our hope rests fully in the one to whom we have said, “You are [our] God” (v. 6), the one who hears our cries for mercy.
Original Meaning
Lament over the Enemies (140:1–5)
THE FIRST TWO STROPHES BEGIN WITH petitions pleading for deliverance from the enemies. The gravity of the threat posed by the enemies is expressed through a series of metaphors.
Rescue me, LORD, from evildoers. The verb halats (“to rescue”) suggests delivering someone by pulling that person out of a dangerous situation. In Psalm 18:19, for example, the psalmist announces that Yahweh “brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued [halats] me because he delighted in me.” Frequently, trouble or distress is characterized as a “narrow space” or a “tight spot,” so deliverance entails being pulled out of that situation. In Psalm 140 the psalmist stands in need of deliverance because of the life-threatening actions of the enemy that have closed in on him.
In the Hebrew, the enemy is described using singular terms: “a man of evil” and “a man of violence.” Although both terms are singular, they function as collective nouns; hence the NIV’s translation “evildoers” accurately represents the collective aspect implied. The language associated with the enemies in Psalm 140 alternates between the singular and plural, thus resisting any attempt to identify the enemy or enemies. Instead, the collective references in verse 1 and the shifting language throughout simply highlight the pervasive nature of the hostility faced by the psalmist—the hostility from which he needs to be extracted (halats).4
The structure of verse 1 creates an ABA’B’ chiastic structure: “rescue,” “evil doers,” “protect,” “violent.” Thus, poetically and structurally speaking, the psalm opens with the call to Yahweh for deliverance from the sources of hostility that stand at the heart of this verse and at the heart of the poet’s plea.
Devise evil plans in their hearts. Verses 2–3 describe the nature of the threat posed by the hostile “other.” The “evildoers” plan in their heart, and the “violent” stir up war. The word for “war” (milhamah) typically refers to military engagement, but twice already in Book 5 of the Psalter the term has referred to hostile speech (cf. Pss 109; 120). The hostility engendered by the enemy was neither accidental nor incidental but, instead, carefully planned out and then carried out “every day.” The psalmist cries out both because of the nature of the threat and, even more, because of its relentless presence in his life.
Tongues as sharp as a serpent’s. In verse 2 the psalmist noted the careful planning and execution of the enemy’s verbal assault, and in verse 3 he uses two metaphors to assess its lethal force. The reference to war in the previous verse is extended with a reference to a sharp tongue. Elsewhere in the Old Testament, the tongue is compared to military weaponry. For example, in Jeremiah 9:8 the tongue is referred to as a “deadly arrow,” and in the book of Psalms the tongue is compared to “a sharpened razor” (Ps 52:2) and “swords” (Ps 64:3). In Psalm 140, however, the psalmist has modified the metaphor slightly by suggesting that the deadly words of the enemy are sharp like a serpent’s tongue. The second line of verse 3 reinforces this claim by noting the lethal poison of the viper. The word for “viper” (‘akshub) occurs only here in the Old Testament. In the largest extant Dead Sea Scrolls text of Psalms (11QPsa) the verse reads ‘akbish, “spider,” with the transposing of the bet and the shin. Goldingay’s translation follows 11QPsa in rendering the line, “a spider’s poison is under their lips,” but the rejection of the Masoretic text is unnecessary.5
The Septuagint translates akshub as aspidon, “asp,” thus supporting the reading offered in the Masoretic text (and the translation offered in the NIV). A similar comparison between the speech of the enemies and the lethal poison of a snake appears in Psalm 58:4–5.
Keep me safe, LORD, from the hands of the wicked. The second strophe opens similarly to the first with a petition to Yahweh for protection. The opening verb, shamar, means “to guard” or “to keep watch” (cf. Ps 121), and verse 4b repeats verse 2b, “protect me from the violent.” In the first strophe the psalmist referred to the heart, tongue, and lips of the enemies, and to that list the psalmist adds the “hands of the wicked.” From planning to execution, from heart to hand, the enemies are working toward the downfall of the petitioner. To highlight the gravity of the situation and the threat of the enemies, the psalmist refers to the enemies by another name, “the wicked” (rasha‘), a term that implies godlessness. To find protection from the godless, the psalmist implores God to keep watch over him.
The arrogant have hidden a snare for me. The psalmist employs images from the “hunt” metaphor to signal his entrapment and potential death or destruction.6
Verse 5 uses an array of terms from the hunt metaphor word field: “snare” (pah), “cords” (habalim), “net” (reshet), and “traps” (moqshim). The “snare” (pah) and “traps” (moqshim) are reserved primarily for the capture of birds and small prey. Once the trap or snare closes up on the prey, its escape becomes impossible.7
The other term used in Psalm 140, reshet, refers to a net that would have been cast on the ground and hidden from sight. As soon as an animal’s feet had crossed the net, the cords would have been pulled and the animal immediately entangled. The reference to nets and traps in Psalm 140 presents a dark reality for the psalmist. These images “work together to bring before our eyes a vivid picture of the mortal danger to the petitioner’s body and soul.”8
They graphically illustrate the plight of the psalmist as one caught, or potentially caught, in a “tight spot” and in need of God’s power to “rescue” him (v. 1a).
Bridging Contexts
LIKE MANY LAMENT PSALMS, Psalm 140 reflects the reality of a world gone awry. As Walter Brueggemann and William Bellinger explain, this psalm “makes it unmistakable that evil and opposition to justice and faith pervade all of life.”16
The “unmistakable” nature of this reality can be observed more easily in some genres than in others. For example, through the power of story, narrative texts in the Hebrew Bible provide an explicit context for understanding the “opposition to justice and faith” in the world. Out of jealousy and rage, Cain lashes out against Abel (Gen 4). Out of lust and unchecked power, David has Uriah killed so that the king might have Bathsheba as his own (2 Sam 11). Out of greed, Ahab and Jezebel plan the demise of Naboth (1 Kgs 21). Narrative texts typically introduce the reader to characters, and often even to their motivations (2 Sam 11:16); in doing so, such texts construct a “world” for the reader to enter. These “worlds” give readers a glimpse of a world gone awry.
Poetic texts, however, can prove more challenging. Often the “personal” situation and the “ideological” situation merge in Hebrew poetry, thus making it difficult to determine the event or events associated with the petitions uttered by the poet.17
But it is precisely this merging of the personal and ideological that allows the language of any one psalm to transcend its particular context. One must not assume, however, that the ideological or metaphorical language adopted by the psalmist is disconnected from the world of reality itself. As Bernd Janowski explains,
Why doesn’t the supplicant say directly and straight-forwardly how he is doing? He actually says it bluntly—but in images! These images are not an illustration of intellectual content, an aesthetically-poetic embellishment of reality that might as well be absent, but they are an expression of an understanding of reality.18
In Psalm 140 the petitioner employs metaphors associated with serpents, war, and the hunt in an effort to describe his reality. While one of those metaphors alone would have communicated the sense of threat experienced by the psalmist, together all three portend a world that has been overrun by injustice and evil, a world that can only be righted by the Divine King. The psalmist petitions God directly in verses 1, 4, and 8, and then in a final declaration he confesses his hope in the faithfulness of God.
The New Testament writers quote or allude to the book of Psalms more than any other Old Testament book. In Romans 3:9–20 the apostle Paul appropriates Psalm 140:3 in his discussion of the pervasive nature of sin. But unlike the psalmist, who limits his discussion to the enemies, Paul expands the reach of sin by declaring that all people, Jews and gentiles alike, are under its power (v. 9). To construct his argument, Paul cites a series of Old Testament texts that reflect generally on the failure of humanity to “do good”—they prefer instead to turn away (Pss 14:1–3; 53:1–3; Eccl 7:20). In Romans 3:13–17 Paul structures his argument in a manner very similar to that in Psalm 140 by referring to the speech and action of all humans as indicative of their sinfulness. Their mouths are “open graves” that practice deceit. And quoting from Psalm 140:3, Paul says the “poison of vipers is on their lips.” The apostle shifts from speech to action in arguing that human conduct matches the depravity of our speech. Paul says that, like “the violent” who hunted down the psalmist (Ps 140:4–5), we are all “swift to shed blood” and that “the way of peace” is foreign to us (Rom 3:17).
In Psalm 140 the hope of the poet rests fully in the covenantal faithfulness of God to redeem him from “the pit.” Paul’s confession in Romans 3 reiterates that same claim. The opening section in the chapter (Rom 3:1–8), as well as the concluding section (vv. 21–31), refer to God’s faithfulness. In structuring the chapter in this manner, Paul affirms that the pervasive nature of sin can be matched and overcome only by the pervasive nature of God’s faithfulness. Paul both begins and ends the chapter by assuring readers of God’s faithfulness and our hope (vv. 3–4a; 24–25).
Contemporary Significance
IN THE OPENING PAGES of his book Divine Discourse: Philosophical Reflections on the Claim that God Speaks, Nicholas Wolterstorff wonders:
It remains part of the liturgy of many branches of the Christian church for the listeners to respond to the public reading of Scripture with some such words as, “This is the Word of the Lord”. . . . What is one saying in that? How would one go about interpreting the words read to discover what God said? And is it rationally acceptable to say, and mean it, that when sitting one morning in St. Mary’s church, or some evening in Oriel chapel, one heard something God had said—or something that God was saying?19
How does one hear the word of God in a text such as Psalm 140, a text described as “one of the less pleasing examples of a lamenting prayer?”20
Perhaps it is the unusual mix of metaphors that troubles the reader, or more likely it is the request that the enemies should receive on their own “heads” the evil they had planned that gives the reader pause. Regardless, this psalm reminds us of the highly disruptive nature of sin, evil, and injustice in the world. But even more, in the midst of such a disrupted world this psalm calls us to lean into our covenantal relationship with God, the one we have confessed as our “strong deliverer” and our shield.
Our society remains attuned to issues of injustice in the world, but frequently the accompanying rhetoric suggests that we alone must remedy sin, evil, and injustice. To be sure, there are biblical texts that call people to remedy injustice (Isa 58), but Psalm 140 is not one of them. Instead, this psalm invites us to turn to God fully, and with certainty, in the belief that God will once more “secure justice” and “uphold the cause of the needy.” In addition, this psalm provides us with an “understanding of reality,” as Janowski explained. We are reminded of the reality of evildoers and the presence of violent people in the world. We are reminded of the pervasive nature of sin and injustice. But even more, we are reminded that these evils do not have the last word. Our hope rests fully in the one to whom we have said, “You are [our] God” (v. 6), the one who hears our cries for mercy.
Original Meaning
Confession of Trust (140:6–8)
IN THE THIRD STROPHE THE PSALMIST utters a confession of trust predicated on his relationship with God (v. 6). His hope for deliverance is grounded in his affirmation of God’s protective care in the midst of battle, whether literal or figurative (v. 7).
You are my God. With this declaration the psalmist affirms his covenantal relationship with God and God alone, but his declaration is rooted in Israel’s larger covenantal confession. Beginning in Exodus 6:7 God announces, “I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God,” a promise repeated elsewhere, including in exilic texts such as Jeremiah 11:4; 30:22; Ezekiel 36:28. The declaration, “You are my God,” appears in Psalms 31:15 and 63:1, and in both instances the psalmist faces threats by the enemies.9
The psalmist’s hope for deliverance is founded on God’s faithfulness to the covenantal relationship.
Sovereign LORD, my strong deliverer. The covenantal language present in verse 6 continues in verse 7 with the reference to Yahweh as a “master” or “lord.” The Hebrew in verse 7a reads literally, “Yahweh, my lord [’adon], is my strong deliverer.” The servant, or psalmist, acknowledges the role of Yahweh as lord and master (cf. Ps 123:2). As lord, Yahweh serves as the “strong deliverer” for the “servant” (i.e., the psalmist), and Yahweh’s faithfulness to this role has been evident in the past. At some point Yahweh shielded or covered the head of the psalmist during battle (cf. Ps 91:4).
Do not grant the wicked their desires. In verse 6b the psalmist pleaded for Yahweh to hear his cry. Verse 8 provides greater specificity as to the nature of that cry. In the light of the covenantal relationship mentioned in verses 6a and 7a, the psalmist requests that God act as his deliverer. In strophes 1 and 2 the poet outlined the ways the enemy was planning and scheming against him. In verse 8 he refers to the enemy as the “wicked” (v. 4), who, as mentioned above, can be understood as the “godless.” In the mind of the psalmist the battle lines are drawn: God and the psalmist stand on one side, “the wicked” (rasha‘) or “godless” on the other. For the psalmist, God has not arbitrarily chosen sides; rather, God stands with his covenantal partner to “cover his head” in battle. The language of verse 8 alludes back to the imagery in the first two strophes. The poet petitions God to intervene and disrupt the plotting of the wicked.
The second line of verse 8 proves challenging for interpreters. The final word in verse 8b, rum, “to rise up,” actually appears at the beginning of the next line, followed by the word selah. Were this a narrative text, the “wrapping” of the text from one line to the next would not be unusual, but poetry very rarely “wraps” a text in this way; the features of Hebrew poetry generally preclude this occurrence.10
Because of its unusual position, many translations have suggested that rum (“to rise up”) should be undertood as part of verse 9. Both the NIV and NRSV have made this interpretive decision, resulting in the translation “Those who surround me proudly rear their heads.”
Although the position of rum is unusual, it should be retained as part of the previous verse (v. 8) for three reasons. First, the verb appears prior to selah, the term that concludes the first three strophes in this psalm. The use of selah as a structuring device in this psalm argues for reading the verb with the third strophe. Second, the Septuagint translates rum (“to rise up”) with the third strophe, followed by selah. The Septuagint renders verse 8b as “do not abandon me, that they may not be exalted.” Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the Hebrew text makes sense and does not require the suggested changes. Verse 8b should be translated, “Do not let their plans succeed, so that they might rise up. Selah.” In the first two strophes, the enemies have been plotting to crush the psalmist, and in verse 8b the psalmist pleads with Yahweh, his covenantal partner, to frustrate their plans lest they rise up and overtake him.
Bridging Contexts
LIKE MANY LAMENT PSALMS, Psalm 140 reflects the reality of a world gone awry. As Walter Brueggemann and William Bellinger explain, this psalm “makes it unmistakable that evil and opposition to justice and faith pervade all of life.”16
The “unmistakable” nature of this reality can be observed more easily in some genres than in others. For example, through the power of story, narrative texts in the Hebrew Bible provide an explicit context for understanding the “opposition to justice and faith” in the world. Out of jealousy and rage, Cain lashes out against Abel (Gen 4). Out of lust and unchecked power, David has Uriah killed so that the king might have Bathsheba as his own (2 Sam 11). Out of greed, Ahab and Jezebel plan the demise of Naboth (1 Kgs 21). Narrative texts typically introduce the reader to characters, and often even to their motivations (2 Sam 11:16); in doing so, such texts construct a “world” for the reader to enter. These “worlds” give readers a glimpse of a world gone awry.
Poetic texts, however, can prove more challenging. Often the “personal” situation and the “ideological” situation merge in Hebrew poetry, thus making it difficult to determine the event or events associated with the petitions uttered by the poet.17
But it is precisely this merging of the personal and ideological that allows the language of any one psalm to transcend its particular context. One must not assume, however, that the ideological or metaphorical language adopted by the psalmist is disconnected from the world of reality itself. As Bernd Janowski explains,
Why doesn’t the supplicant say directly and straight-forwardly how he is doing? He actually says it bluntly—but in images! These images are not an illustration of intellectual content, an aesthetically-poetic embellishment of reality that might as well be absent, but they are an expression of an understanding of reality.18
In Psalm 140 the petitioner employs metaphors associated with serpents, war, and the hunt in an effort to describe his reality. While one of those metaphors alone would have communicated the sense of threat experienced by the psalmist, together all three portend a world that has been overrun by injustice and evil, a world that can only be righted by the Divine King. The psalmist petitions God directly in verses 1, 4, and 8, and then in a final declaration he confesses his hope in the faithfulness of God.
The New Testament writers quote or allude to the book of Psalms more than any other Old Testament book. In Romans 3:9–20 the apostle Paul appropriates Psalm 140:3 in his discussion of the pervasive nature of sin. But unlike the psalmist, who limits his discussion to the enemies, Paul expands the reach of sin by declaring that all people, Jews and gentiles alike, are under its power (v. 9). To construct his argument, Paul cites a series of Old Testament texts that reflect generally on the failure of humanity to “do good”—they prefer instead to turn away (Pss 14:1–3; 53:1–3; Eccl 7:20). In Romans 3:13–17 Paul structures his argument in a manner very similar to that in Psalm 140 by referring to the speech and action of all humans as indicative of their sinfulness. Their mouths are “open graves” that practice deceit. And quoting from Psalm 140:3, Paul says the “poison of vipers is on their lips.” The apostle shifts from speech to action in arguing that human conduct matches the depravity of our speech. Paul says that, like “the violent” who hunted down the psalmist (Ps 140:4–5), we are all “swift to shed blood” and that “the way of peace” is foreign to us (Rom 3:17).
In Psalm 140 the hope of the poet rests fully in the covenantal faithfulness of God to redeem him from “the pit.” Paul’s confession in Romans 3 reiterates that same claim. The opening section in the chapter (Rom 3:1–8), as well as the concluding section (vv. 21–31), refer to God’s faithfulness. In structuring the chapter in this manner, Paul affirms that the pervasive nature of sin can be matched and overcome only by the pervasive nature of God’s faithfulness. Paul both begins and ends the chapter by assuring readers of God’s faithfulness and our hope (vv. 3–4a; 24–25).
Contemporary Significance
IN THE OPENING PAGES of his book Divine Discourse: Philosophical Reflections on the Claim that God Speaks, Nicholas Wolterstorff wonders:
It remains part of the liturgy of many branches of the Christian church for the listeners to respond to the public reading of Scripture with some such words as, “This is the Word of the Lord”. . . . What is one saying in that? How would one go about interpreting the words read to discover what God said? And is it rationally acceptable to say, and mean it, that when sitting one morning in St. Mary’s church, or some evening in Oriel chapel, one heard something God had said—or something that God was saying?19
How does one hear the word of God in a text such as Psalm 140, a text described as “one of the less pleasing examples of a lamenting prayer?”20
Perhaps it is the unusual mix of metaphors that troubles the reader, or more likely it is the request that the enemies should receive on their own “heads” the evil they had planned that gives the reader pause. Regardless, this psalm reminds us of the highly disruptive nature of sin, evil, and injustice in the world. But even more, in the midst of such a disrupted world this psalm calls us to lean into our covenantal relationship with God, the one we have confessed as our “strong deliverer” and our shield.
Our society remains attuned to issues of injustice in the world, but frequently the accompanying rhetoric suggests that we alone must remedy sin, evil, and injustice. To be sure, there are biblical texts that call people to remedy injustice (Isa 58), but Psalm 140 is not one of them. Instead, this psalm invites us to turn to God fully, and with certainty, in the belief that God will once more “secure justice” and “uphold the cause of the needy.” In addition, this psalm provides us with an “understanding of reality,” as Janowski explained. We are reminded of the reality of evildoers and the presence of violent people in the world. We are reminded of the pervasive nature of sin and injustice. But even more, we are reminded that these evils do not have the last word. Our hope rests fully in the one to whom we have said, “You are [our] God” (v. 6), the one who hears our cries for mercy.
Original Meaning
Curse on the Enemies (140:9–11)
THE FOURTH STROPHE CONTAINS a series of three curses levied against the “the wicked” (rasha‘). The psalmist prays that the scheming plans of the enemies mentioned in strophes 1 and 2 be turned back upon them. Each curse includes a jussive form of the verb (i.e., “May . . .”). Goldingay has suggested that “the use of jussives rather than pleas underlines the conviction that there is a process of justice built into the structure of reality.”11
Thus the fourth strophe is not an unfiltered “rant” against the enemy but a request for justice to be enacted.
May the mischief of their lips engulf them. As noted above, the verb “rise up” or “rear” (NIV) belongs with verse 8. As a result, verse 9 begins by fronting the object of the first curse, “the head of those who surround me, may the mischief of their lips cover them.”12
The issue is not whether the head of the enemy will rise up, but what will come down on the heads of the enemy. The NIV translates the verb kasah as “engulf,” but the piel form of the verb means literally “to cover.” The psalmist prays that the heads of the enemy would be covered with the very trouble they had planned for him.
May burning coals fall on them. The second curse actually alludes to images from the first two strophes—the images of war and the hunt. According to verse 2a, the evildoers “stir up war every day.” In response the psalmist asks that “burning coals” fall on the enemy (v. 10a–b). The image invoked is similar to that of Psalm 120, where burning coals refer to the burning arrows that would rain down on a city during war, thereby creating a conflagration consuming everything in its path.
The second image, “miry pits,” while apparently inconsistent with the image of the fiery scene in the first half of the verse, alludes back to the image of the hunt in Psalm 140:4b–5. In the earlier verses the enemy set out traps and snares to capture the psalmist, but in verse 10 the psalmist refers to the pit used to trap large animals. The prey would fall into the pit and, unable to climb out, could be easily killed. Because of this association between the image of the pit and death, the “pit” metaphor often referred to the grave.13
May slanderers not be established in the land. In the final imprecation the psalmist places in parallel two descriptions of the enemy. In Hebrew, the first words in verse 11a are “a man of tongue” (“slanderer,” NIV), and the first words of verse 11b are “a man of violence” (“the violent,” NIV). The implication is clear: slander and violence go hand in hand. As a result, the one who practices slander and violence cannot remain in the land. They should receive the treatment they had planned to enact upon the psalmist, “blow for blow” (lemadhepot).
Bridging Contexts
LIKE MANY LAMENT PSALMS, Psalm 140 reflects the reality of a world gone awry. As Walter Brueggemann and William Bellinger explain, this psalm “makes it unmistakable that evil and opposition to justice and faith pervade all of life.”16
The “unmistakable” nature of this reality can be observed more easily in some genres than in others. For example, through the power of story, narrative texts in the Hebrew Bible provide an explicit context for understanding the “opposition to justice and faith” in the world. Out of jealousy and rage, Cain lashes out against Abel (Gen 4). Out of lust and unchecked power, David has Uriah killed so that the king might have Bathsheba as his own (2 Sam 11). Out of greed, Ahab and Jezebel plan the demise of Naboth (1 Kgs 21). Narrative texts typically introduce the reader to characters, and often even to their motivations (2 Sam 11:16); in doing so, such texts construct a “world” for the reader to enter. These “worlds” give readers a glimpse of a world gone awry.
Poetic texts, however, can prove more challenging. Often the “personal” situation and the “ideological” situation merge in Hebrew poetry, thus making it difficult to determine the event or events associated with the petitions uttered by the poet.17
But it is precisely this merging of the personal and ideological that allows the language of any one psalm to transcend its particular context. One must not assume, however, that the ideological or metaphorical language adopted by the psalmist is disconnected from the world of reality itself. As Bernd Janowski explains,
Why doesn’t the supplicant say directly and straight-forwardly how he is doing? He actually says it bluntly—but in images! These images are not an illustration of intellectual content, an aesthetically-poetic embellishment of reality that might as well be absent, but they are an expression of an understanding of reality.18
In Psalm 140 the petitioner employs metaphors associated with serpents, war, and the hunt in an effort to describe his reality. While one of those metaphors alone would have communicated the sense of threat experienced by the psalmist, together all three portend a world that has been overrun by injustice and evil, a world that can only be righted by the Divine King. The psalmist petitions God directly in verses 1, 4, and 8, and then in a final declaration he confesses his hope in the faithfulness of God.
The New Testament writers quote or allude to the book of Psalms more than any other Old Testament book. In Romans 3:9–20 the apostle Paul appropriates Psalm 140:3 in his discussion of the pervasive nature of sin. But unlike the psalmist, who limits his discussion to the enemies, Paul expands the reach of sin by declaring that all people, Jews and gentiles alike, are under its power (v. 9). To construct his argument, Paul cites a series of Old Testament texts that reflect generally on the failure of humanity to “do good”—they prefer instead to turn away (Pss 14:1–3; 53:1–3; Eccl 7:20). In Romans 3:13–17 Paul structures his argument in a manner very similar to that in Psalm 140 by referring to the speech and action of all humans as indicative of their sinfulness. Their mouths are “open graves” that practice deceit. And quoting from Psalm 140:3, Paul says the “poison of vipers is on their lips.” The apostle shifts from speech to action in arguing that human conduct matches the depravity of our speech. Paul says that, like “the violent” who hunted down the psalmist (Ps 140:4–5), we are all “swift to shed blood” and that “the way of peace” is foreign to us (Rom 3:17).
In Psalm 140 the hope of the poet rests fully in the covenantal faithfulness of God to redeem him from “the pit.” Paul’s confession in Romans 3 reiterates that same claim. The opening section in the chapter (Rom 3:1–8), as well as the concluding section (vv. 21–31), refer to God’s faithfulness. In structuring the chapter in this manner, Paul affirms that the pervasive nature of sin can be matched and overcome only by the pervasive nature of God’s faithfulness. Paul both begins and ends the chapter by assuring readers of God’s faithfulness and our hope (vv. 3–4a; 24–25).
Contemporary Significance
IN THE OPENING PAGES of his book Divine Discourse: Philosophical Reflections on the Claim that God Speaks, Nicholas Wolterstorff wonders:
It remains part of the liturgy of many branches of the Christian church for the listeners to respond to the public reading of Scripture with some such words as, “This is the Word of the Lord”. . . . What is one saying in that? How would one go about interpreting the words read to discover what God said? And is it rationally acceptable to say, and mean it, that when sitting one morning in St. Mary’s church, or some evening in Oriel chapel, one heard something God had said—or something that God was saying?19
How does one hear the word of God in a text such as Psalm 140, a text described as “one of the less pleasing examples of a lamenting prayer?”20
Perhaps it is the unusual mix of metaphors that troubles the reader, or more likely it is the request that the enemies should receive on their own “heads” the evil they had planned that gives the reader pause. Regardless, this psalm reminds us of the highly disruptive nature of sin, evil, and injustice in the world. But even more, in the midst of such a disrupted world this psalm calls us to lean into our covenantal relationship with God, the one we have confessed as our “strong deliverer” and our shield.
Our society remains attuned to issues of injustice in the world, but frequently the accompanying rhetoric suggests that we alone must remedy sin, evil, and injustice. To be sure, there are biblical texts that call people to remedy injustice (Isa 58), but Psalm 140 is not one of them. Instead, this psalm invites us to turn to God fully, and with certainty, in the belief that God will once more “secure justice” and “uphold the cause of the needy.” In addition, this psalm provides us with an “understanding of reality,” as Janowski explained. We are reminded of the reality of evildoers and the presence of violent people in the world. We are reminded of the pervasive nature of sin and injustice. But even more, we are reminded that these evils do not have the last word. Our hope rests fully in the one to whom we have said, “You are [our] God” (v. 6), the one who hears our cries for mercy.
Original Meaning
Declaration of Faith (140:12–13)
IN THE FINAL STROPHE THE PSALMIST expresses his confidence in Yahweh’s capacity to deliver. Although deliverance has yet to occur, its delay is only temporary. God is the one who “secures justice for the poor and upholds the cause of the needy” (v. 12). Frequently, “poor” (‘ani) and “needy” (’ebyon) appear together in the Old Testament to create a hendiadys (i.e., the expression of single idea by two words connected with “and”). Hans-Joachim Kraus has suggested that the terms are not a formula of “pious phraseology” but instead reflect concrete reality.14
Similarly, Marvin Tate translated these terms “needy-poor” or “truly poor.”15
In Psalm 140 the poet understands his plight as one of powerlessness and true need. In the ancient world it was the responsibility of the king to care for the poor and render justice and equity in their behalf (cf. Ps 72:12–14). In Psalm 140 the psalmist looks to his “lord,” the Divine King, in confidence that Yahweh will defend the poor (i.e., the psalmist) from all threats.
Because of Yahweh’s action in behalf of the poor, the righteous will confess or praise Yahweh’s name, and the upright will enjoy his presence (cf. Ps 107:41–42). Following the action of God, the world will be rightly ordered once more.
Bridging Contexts
LIKE MANY LAMENT PSALMS, Psalm 140 reflects the reality of a world gone awry. As Walter Brueggemann and William Bellinger explain, this psalm “makes it unmistakable that evil and opposition to justice and faith pervade all of life.”16
The “unmistakable” nature of this reality can be observed more easily in some genres than in others. For example, through the power of story, narrative texts in the Hebrew Bible provide an explicit context for understanding the “opposition to justice and faith” in the world. Out of jealousy and rage, Cain lashes out against Abel (Gen 4). Out of lust and unchecked power, David has Uriah killed so that the king might have Bathsheba as his own (2 Sam 11). Out of greed, Ahab and Jezebel plan the demise of Naboth (1 Kgs 21). Narrative texts typically introduce the reader to characters, and often even to their motivations (2 Sam 11:16); in doing so, such texts construct a “world” for the reader to enter. These “worlds” give readers a glimpse of a world gone awry.
Poetic texts, however, can prove more challenging. Often the “personal” situation and the “ideological” situation merge in Hebrew poetry, thus making it difficult to determine the event or events associated with the petitions uttered by the poet.17
But it is precisely this merging of the personal and ideological that allows the language of any one psalm to transcend its particular context. One must not assume, however, that the ideological or metaphorical language adopted by the psalmist is disconnected from the world of reality itself. As Bernd Janowski explains,
Why doesn’t the supplicant say directly and straight-forwardly how he is doing? He actually says it bluntly—but in images! These images are not an illustration of intellectual content, an aesthetically-poetic embellishment of reality that might as well be absent, but they are an expression of an understanding of reality.18
In Psalm 140 the petitioner employs metaphors associated with serpents, war, and the hunt in an effort to describe his reality. While one of those metaphors alone would have communicated the sense of threat experienced by the psalmist, together all three portend a world that has been overrun by injustice and evil, a world that can only be righted by the Divine King. The psalmist petitions God directly in verses 1, 4, and 8, and then in a final declaration he confesses his hope in the faithfulness of God.
The New Testament writers quote or allude to the book of Psalms more than any other Old Testament book. In Romans 3:9–20 the apostle Paul appropriates Psalm 140:3 in his discussion of the pervasive nature of sin. But unlike the psalmist, who limits his discussion to the enemies, Paul expands the reach of sin by declaring that all people, Jews and gentiles alike, are under its power (v. 9). To construct his argument, Paul cites a series of Old Testament texts that reflect generally on the failure of humanity to “do good”—they prefer instead to turn away (Pss 14:1–3; 53:1–3; Eccl 7:20). In Romans 3:13–17 Paul structures his argument in a manner very similar to that in Psalm 140 by referring to the speech and action of all humans as indicative of their sinfulness. Their mouths are “open graves” that practice deceit. And quoting from Psalm 140:3, Paul says the “poison of vipers is on their lips.” The apostle shifts from speech to action in arguing that human conduct matches the depravity of our speech. Paul says that, like “the violent” who hunted down the psalmist (Ps 140:4–5), we are all “swift to shed blood” and that “the way of peace” is foreign to us (Rom 3:17).
In Psalm 140 the hope of the poet rests fully in the covenantal faithfulness of God to redeem him from “the pit.” Paul’s confession in Romans 3 reiterates that same claim. The opening section in the chapter (Rom 3:1–8), as well as the concluding section (vv. 21–31), refer to God’s faithfulness. In structuring the chapter in this manner, Paul affirms that the pervasive nature of sin can be matched and overcome only by the pervasive nature of God’s faithfulness. Paul both begins and ends the chapter by assuring readers of God’s faithfulness and our hope (vv. 3–4a; 24–25).
Contemporary Significance
IN THE OPENING PAGES of his book Divine Discourse: Philosophical Reflections on the Claim that God Speaks, Nicholas Wolterstorff wonders:
It remains part of the liturgy of many branches of the Christian church for the listeners to respond to the public reading of Scripture with some such words as, “This is the Word of the Lord”. . . . What is one saying in that? How would one go about interpreting the words read to discover what God said? And is it rationally acceptable to say, and mean it, that when sitting one morning in St. Mary’s church, or some evening in Oriel chapel, one heard something God had said—or something that God was saying?19
How does one hear the word of God in a text such as Psalm 140, a text described as “one of the less pleasing examples of a lamenting prayer?”20
Perhaps it is the unusual mix of metaphors that troubles the reader, or more likely it is the request that the enemies should receive on their own “heads” the evil they had planned that gives the reader pause. Regardless, this psalm reminds us of the highly disruptive nature of sin, evil, and injustice in the world. But even more, in the midst of such a disrupted world this psalm calls us to lean into our covenantal relationship with God, the one we have confessed as our “strong deliverer” and our shield.
Our society remains attuned to issues of injustice in the world, but frequently the accompanying rhetoric suggests that we alone must remedy sin, evil, and injustice. To be sure, there are biblical texts that call people to remedy injustice (Isa 58), but Psalm 140 is not one of them. Instead, this psalm invites us to turn to God fully, and with certainty, in the belief that God will once more “secure justice” and “uphold the cause of the needy.” In addition, this psalm provides us with an “understanding of reality,” as Janowski explained. We are reminded of the reality of evildoers and the presence of violent people in the world. We are reminded of the pervasive nature of sin and injustice. But even more, we are reminded that these evils do not have the last word. Our hope rests fully in the one to whom we have said, “You are [our] God” (v. 6), the one who hears our cries for mercy.
