Deliver
me / from my enemies, / O my God,
make me inaccessible (set me up high) / to
those / who rise up against me
Deliver me / from evildoers
and from
murderers / save me.
At first glance these verses seem to be so generic that
they would afford little to reflect on. The second phrase is interesting, and
we will return to it, but, by and large, it seems to rehash, with little
elaboration, rather typical calls for deliverance. Those whom the psalmist
seeks deliverance from are variously described as: enemies, those ‘rising
against me’, evildoers, and murderers. Later these men will portrayed as
“slavering dogs”, but here they have little to distinguish them. That said,
there is one interesting observation to make about them when seen in the
context of the psalm. That is—here, they have the characteristics of a personal
enemy. They are “my enemies,” they
rise up “against me.” In verse 3 they
“lie in wait for me” and “plot against me.” The point is that they seem
to be, in these opening verses, evildoers who are not threats to the community
but to the individual psalmist. The previous psalm was a good example of the
reverse—the wicked judges were threats to the health of the entire people. That said, in verse 5, the perspective shifts
completely: “up now to punish all the
nations.” And in verse 8: “You (God) will scoff at all those nations.” Verse 11: “Don’t kill them outright, lest my people forget.” In verse 13,
their judgment is something that will “be known to the ends of earth that God
rules over Jacob.” This is not to say, however, that the purely personal aspect
is only present in the opening verses. They are referred to, throughout, as “my
enemies” and God is “my deliverer” (vs. 9—“my bulwark”; vs. 10—“God will come to
meet me…my enemies”; vs. 16—“my bulwark…refuge in my time of trouble”; vs.
17—“my bulwark”). How does one come to explain this dynamic? The answer, I
think, is in the author: the king. As we have argued throughout the psalms in
which we can say the ‘main character’ is the king—the flock is in the shepherd;
if the shepherd is attacked, the flock is dispersed/attacked as well. If the
shepherd is overcome, the flock is overcome. The king’s concerns are never
merely private concerns, but always-already the gathering public concern of his
people. This is why the psalm fluctuates and equivocates between whether these
enemies are “my enemies” or enemies of the kingdom/people. To be an enemy of
the king is to be an enemy of the nation, and vice versa. Every true king of
Israel will be modeled after David who was a “man after God’s own heart”, and
this “heart” is one that is always-already contains within it the
(overwhelming) responsibility and concern for His people. To understand this as
the “heart of the king” (as never a purely private heart) would shed a great
deal of light on how one comes to see Christ, the final (and original) king. A
second observation regarding “make me inaccessible (set me up high) to those
who rise up against me”—it may seem unrelated but I think the image serves to
highlight the point: the Temple (as with all temples surrounding Israel) was
set ‘on a hill’ that was understood, in some manner, as the hill that was the
first primordial hill that rose out of the chaos waters. Some temples even had
their outer walls to appear to undulate in order to portray the lapping waters
of chaos and how they could not overcome the temple. This temple/mountain,
however, was always in danger of the ‘rising’ waters of chaos; it was not a
static but a dramatic reality. Its strength came from its proximity to heaven.
Here, something similar I think is at work: the chaos of the enemies, like a
‘rising’ flood, are attempting to overcome the king (and, hence, his people).
His request to be made inaccessible can be translated as to be raised up higher
than his enemies—hence, to be brought closer to the realm of heaven whereby
that power will deliver him and make him firm against their attacks. This is
theological geography.
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