Ps 5 (Summary)

To a person unaware of what direction he is standing, the rising and setting sun could be confused. Our psalmist is standing in this twilight. Although the day is just beginning, the sun’s rising is, to him, a falling darkness, a harbinger of danger. As the sun rises, the shadows lengthen, providing shelter for the men seeking him, while he stands, exposed, in the full light of day. He feels like some insect pinned to a sheet of paper, or a man standing in a vacant parking lot with snipers poised in dark windows. He has no way of knowing from which direction his attackers will descend upon him.

This sense of an impending but unidentifiable doom wells up in him into an almost voiceless and desperate plea for help; his cry is as consuming as the ubiquitous darkness around him.

From this place of extreme exposure, he launches into his own attack. In an almost curse-like manner, and in every direction, he fires off a tirade of judgment upon his unseen foes. It begins forcefully, but in almost defensive-like posture. As his storm grows though, lightning and thunder begin. His god, Yhwh, not only refuses to take any notice of these men in waiting, he hates them, seeks their destruction and loathes them. For him, these curses are light-arrows aimed into the dark windows surrounding him. They explode with ferocity and certainty. It is as if this man was not merely attacking these men, but attacking darkness itself.

And, in so doing we catch a glimpse, not of just these light-arrows, but of Light itself. From within the depths of this man’s desperation we are given, however momentarily and however out-of-focus it appears, a vision not of created light, but of uncreated light, of a battle being waged, through this man, that stretches into the dynamic and blinding realm of Yhwh.

After the surrounding air has been set aflame with Yhwh’s judgment, we are given a momentary reprieve. A new plea emerges, much different from the first. A certain zone of safety has emerged. Whereas before he was afraid to step into the light of day, he is now ready to move forward. He only asks that Yhwh show him the way. The men have retreated, but they are not destroyed. The flames must still continue, but through the wreckage our man can, sojourning with Yhwh, wind his way ahead.

Now, after Yhwh has girded him, the curse-blasts continue and with more force than ever before. These are aimed to topple buildings. And nothing could be more devastating than this final volley. Reaching into the deepest symbols of depravity and filth, what emerges from this man’s mouth is a curse as absolute as it is disturbing: the men in waiting are gnawing on empty air. Thinking they are finding nourishment they are only feeding themselves, like finely ground glass, a poison that makes them rot from within. Their mouths are nothing but the gateway to the dead, to Sheol.

At the end, we are finally called inside, to join this man. And, after crossing this barrier, we are initiated into a world that stands in utter, utter contrast to the world outside of it. Here, there is rejoicing, and jubilation. Here, the time that seemed to grind this man into the dust has become a forever-time. It is a type of Eden, surrounded by a vast wasteland. From here we see that these words of jubilation are actually the source of the fiery missiles aimed at the darkness outside. This man’s praise of Yhwh is the incense cast by angels upon the earth in destruction.