A PRAYER OF David.
1Hear, O LORD, my righteous plea;
listen to my cry.
Give ear to my prayer—
it does not rise from deceitful lips.
2May my vindication come from you;
may your eyes see what is right.
3Though you probe my heart and examine me at night,
though you test me, you will find nothing;
I have resolved that my mouth will not sin.
4As for the deeds of men—
by the word of your lips
I have kept myself
from the ways of the violent.
5My steps have held to your paths;
my feet have not slipped.
6I call on you, O God, for you will answer me;
give ear to me and hear my prayer.
7Show the wonder of your great love,
you who save by your right hand
those who take refuge in you from their foes.
8Keep me as the apple of your eye;
hide me in the shadow of your wings
9from the wicked who assail me,
from my mortal enemies who surround me.
10They close up their callous hearts,
and their mouths speak with arrogance.
11They have tracked me down, they now surround me,
with eyes alert, to throw me to the ground.
12They are like a lion hungry for prey,
like a great lion crouching in cover.
13Rise up, O LORD, confront them, bring them down;
rescue me from the wicked by your sword.
14O LORD, by your hand save me from such men,
from men of this world whose reward is in this life.
You still the hunger of those you cherish;
their sons have plenty,
and they store up wealth for their children.
15And I—in righteousness I will see your face;
when I awake, I will be satisfied with seeing your likeness.
Original Meaning
THE PSALM IS a plea for deliverance from the attacks of enemies who speak arrogantly against the narrator and seek to ravage like wild beasts. The psalmist claims innocence from all accusations and concludes with a confident anticipation of protection in the presence of God. Various phrases and themes link this psalm back to Psalms 15 and 16. All three seek the protective care of the divine presence (cf. 15:1; 16:8, 11; 17:15) and employ the same Hebrew verb mwṭ (“be shaken, slip”), a relatively rare word that elsewhere in the Psalter appears only in single separated psalms.1 Likewise, the theme of taking “refuge” in Yahweh—using forms of the root ḥsh—binds this psalm with Psalms 16 and 18 (cf. 16:1; 17:7; 18:2, 31).2
The structure of the psalm is relatively simple: An initial plea is buttressed by the psalmist’s claim of innocence (17:1–5); a second plea is supported by a description of the virulent attack by the enemies (17:6–12); and a final plea is accompanied by the psalmist’s confidence in God’s good intent for those whom he “cherishes” (17:13–15).
The Heading (17:0)
THE PSALM IS described as a “prayer of David” (tepillah ledawid), the first of five appearances of the term tepillah in the psalm headings (cf. the headings of Pss. 17; 86; 90; 102; 142).3 Kraus considers the tepillah as a type of lament or entreaty either for oneself or in intercession for others, a description supported by most occurrences of the term in the Psalter.4
Plea and Claim of Innocence (17:1–5)
FROM THE BEGINNING, Psalm 17 is couched in the voice of the innocent sufferer. The commentators are generally agreed that the difficult Hebrew phrase in 17:1a (šimʿah yhwh ṣedeq, lit., “Hear, O Yahweh, what is right”) ought to be interpreted in light of the parallel phrase in 17:1b to be the psalmist’s plea that Yahweh pay attention to his cause or just plea.5 The LXX renders the phrase dikaiosyne mou (“my righteousness”). As Dahood recognizes, the parallel with “my cry” (rinnati) indicates some audible cry to God for redress.6 In verse 1 Yahweh is called to “heed” (šimʿah) and “pay attention” (haqšibah) and “listen” (haʾazinah), since the psalmist’s declaration is without deceit.
My vindication. The psalmist is confident that when Yahweh hears his case and renders judgment, the psalmist will be found to have fulfilled the requirements of “justice” (mišpaṭ).7 As a result he anticipates that complete “vindication” (NIV’s translation of mišpaṭ) will proceed from Yahweh, because the righteous judge (cf. 7:11) will hear the case and “see what is right” (17:2b)
Examine me. The psalmist invites divine scrutiny and examination, confident there is no fault to be uncovered. The reference to testing “at night” has led some to suspect a context of “incubation” in the temple by one seeking refuge from false accusations.8 The two outer images of probing and testing (Heb. bḥn and ṣrp) are drawn from the context of metallurgy and the refining of ore, while “examine” (pqd) has the sense of close inspection or scrutiny. The psalmist expects to survive this divine critique, for there is no condemning evil to be found9; he has been careful “that my mouth will not sin” (17:3c).
The examination moves from the “heart” (17:3a) to the “mouth” (17:3c) to the outward actions (17:4). In all these the psalmist claims to have avoided sin—a sign of true integration, that thought, word, and deed coincide. Thus, his earlier claim that the plea for vindication does not “rise from deceitful lips” will be proved true by the divine investigation.
As for the deeds of men. This initial phrase sets the stage for the discussion that follows in the remainder of 17:4–5. As far as concern with human activity (Heb. lipʿullot ʾadam)10 goes, the psalmist claims righteousness. The picture is that of Yahweh, enthroned in the heavens and looking down on his creatures as at the Tower of Babel (Gen. 11) or before the Flood (Gen. 6) in order to scrutinize their activity.11 Each individual is examined, and judgment is passed. In this great examination, the psalmist confidently expects to pass without doubt.
By the word of your lips. In contrast to the “deceitful lips” mentioned earlier (17:1), the psalmist understands the words of Yahweh’s lips as the essential guide for a life that avoids the path of violence12 and keeps firmly to Yahweh’s way. As in the preceding psalm, it is Yahweh who provides the traveler with the accurate roadmap to life and joy (16:11).13 The final statement of 17:5 (“my feet have not slipped”) may function either as further evidence of the psalmist’s loyal adherence to the teaching of Yahweh or as a grateful acknowledgment of the security provided by divine guidance.
The Enemy Attack (17:6–12)
THE PSALMIST RETURNS once again to plea for a divine hearing. He makes an audible cry to God (lit., “I have cried aloud to you”), confident that God will “answer” (ʿnh), “give ear” (nṭh [“stretch out, extend (his ears)”]),14 and “hear” (šmʿ ) the psalmist’s speech.
The wonder of your great love. The NIV follows the majority of commentators in emending the initial verb in verse 7 (plh [“separate, divide, treat differently”]) to reflect the Hebrew verb plʾ (“show wonder; do marvelously”). Many Hebrew manuscripts contain this emended reading, which seems to make better sense in the context. God is the one who makes known the incomprehensible character of his enduring, loyal love and concern (Heb. ḥesed).15
Deliverer of those who seek refuge. The Hebrew term behind the NIV’s “you who save” (mošiaʿ [“one who saves, savior, deliverer”]) has a robust history.16 In the Deuteronomic legislation, the word is used at first (Deut. 22:27) to mitigate the guilt of a betrothed woman, accosted and raped in the open countryside, because even though she resisted and screamed, there was “no one to deliver her” from her attacker. Subsequently, as one of the curses for disobedience to the covenant, the Israelites are warned (Deut. 28:29, 31) that they will be afflicted by God so that there will be “no one to deliver you” from the divine wrath.
In Judges, mošiaʿ assumes a more technical usage, where it is used to describe the judges, who are also called “deliverers” (cf. Judg. 3:9, 15) raised up by God. The process continues in Samuel—Kings, with several passages in which mošiaʿ has clearly become the more technical designation “deliverer” (1 Sam. 14:39; 2 Kings 13:5).
Prophetic evidence outside of Isaiah is mixed, with two passages where verbal force seems warranted (Jer. 30:10; Zech. 8:7) and two others where “deliverer” seems more appropriate (Jer. 14:8; Hos. 13:4). Isaiah has by far the most occurrences of mošiaʿ in Old Testament literature, all but one (Isa. 19:20) falling within the last twenty chapters of the book.17 All eight occurrences assume the quality of a quasi-title for Yahweh, such as “Deliverer, Savior,” and are paralleled in many instances by other divine titles such as “Holy One of Israel” and “Redeemer.”
The four occurrences of mošiaʿ in the book of Psalms share the ambiguity observed in the rest of the Old Testament. In Psalm 18:42, the phrase most closely parallels the Deuteronomy passages with its conviction that the wicked can expect no “deliverer” to arise in their behalf. In the remaining three passages (7:10; 17:7; 106:21), the nominal phrase seems more likely, although a verbal rendering is not impossible.
The upshot of this investigation is that by crying out to Yahweh, the Savior of those who seek refuge, the psalmist is invoking a long heritage of relationship between Yahweh and Israel. Whenever Israel cried to Yahweh, acknowledging his power over her, Yahweh responded as mošiaʿ. When, by contrast, Israel refused to obey Yahweh, there was no deliverer (Heb. ʾen mošiaʿ ) for Israel, and Yahweh sold them into the control of other nations—a pattern clearly illustrated by the opening chapters of the book of Judges (esp. Judg. 2:10–3:4).
The psalmist who claims a guilt-free relation with God is confident that Yahweh as mošiaʿ will rescue him from “those who rise up against” him. Yahweh will deliver by his “right hand” (yamin, 17:7b)—another link back to Psalm 16, where this word occurs twice (16:8, 11). Here it refers to the powerful presence of Yahweh to protect and save.
Keep me as the apple of your eye. The psalmist now introduces two images of the protective care and concern of Yahweh. The first relates the psalmist to the pupil of the eye (Heb. ʾišon bat ʿayin [“little man of the daughter of the eye”]—NIV “apple of your eye”), which is to be carefully guarded from injury. On several occasions while I was wearing hard contact lenses, I developed corneal scratches. The resulting searing pain and burning effectively illustrated to me the zealous care we exercise to protect these delicate but essential parts of our body.
The second image is the desire to be hidden “in the shadow of [God’s] wings.” This image refers in the most general sense to the protection of small birds under the wings of their hovering parent (cf. Isa. 34:15). Jesus uses such an image in the New Testament to describe his desire to protect Israel—a desire frustrated by her rejection (Luke 13:34).18 Others take this image to refer to the wings of the cherubim spread across the cover of the ark of the covenant, which stood in the Most Holy Place within the Jerusalem temple.19 This image then would be a picture of seeking refuge in the temple—in the presence of Yahweh—since only the high priest could enter the Most Holy Place of the temple.
Perhaps more convincing in this connection is the discovery of a covenant context for these verses.20 Using language drawn from two great songs reflecting on Israel’s history with Yahweh—the “Song of the Sea” in Ex. 15:1–18 (esp. vv. 11–13)21 and the “Song of Moses” in Deut. 32—the psalmist clearly marks out that Israel’s foundation of hope is in Yahweh’s faithful and enduring loyalty to his people, which in the past led to deliverance and continues to hold out hope to those who have kept their feet on Yahweh’s paths (Ps. 17:5; cf. 16:11a).
The imperative verbs pleading for deliverance now slip into the declarative perfects and imperfects that describe the enemies who “assail” the psalmist on every side (17:9). The enemies are ʾoyebay nepeš (“enemies of my soul [nepeš]”), who seek to destroy his animating life source.
The continuing description of the wicked in 17:10 is plagued by the difficulty of the opening phrase: ḥelbamo sageru (lit., “their fat they have closed in”). BHS suggests an emendation to ḥeleb libbamo (“the fat of their heart”—assuming a loss by reason of haplography of the repeated consonants -lb-). This emended phrase—which appears also in Ps. 119:70 (ṭapaš kaḥeleb libbam [“the fat of their heart is unfeeling”])—is then taken to mean (as in the NIV) that the enemies’ hearts are “callous” and uncaring.22 Craigie resists emendation and renders the original text “became rebellious,” drawing (rather tenuously in my opinion) on Deuteronomy 32:15 (“Jeshrun grew fat and kicked”) as an indication of rebellion.23
Verse 11 offers several difficulties. The first word ʾasšurenu is unintelligible as it stands and requires some emendation, as the notes in BHS indicate. One option is to transpose the final two vowels to achieve the consonantal form ʾšrwny (rather than ʾšrynw). The resultant fully pointed Hebrew verb ʾiššereni (a Piel perfect of ʾšr [“step, lead, restrain, reprove”]) is taken to relate to the Greek rendering ekballontes me (“cast me out”).
These calloused enemies “surround” (sebabuni)24 the psalmist with a fixed purpose (Heb. “they have set their eyes”). Their goal is (lit.) to “stretch out (a tent) on the earth.” This phrase is difficult since the verb is normally used of “pitching” a tent. Most commentators take the phrase as a reference to some hostile activity toward the psalmist, such as “throwing . . . to the ground” (NIV) or “pitching” out. The use of the term “pitching out” by some commentators offers the impression that this translation is derived from the idiomatic use of nṭh to describe the usual process of setting up a tent—and thus lends weight to the translation “throw down; pitch out.” It must be recognized, however, that the convergence of the ideas “set up a tent” and “throw out” only occurs in the English word “pitch” and should not be transferred unthinkingly to the Hebrew nṭh. One does not “throw” a tent to set it up, but “stretches” it out or “stakes it down.” The meaning of the term in 17:11 ought to be found within this semantic range as well.
The translation is made more difficult by the lack of pronominal suffix on the verb to indicate to whom the action is directed. Most commentators assume it is the psalmist who is affected. It is certainly not unambiguous. It is feasible that it is the enemies themselves who desire to “spread out in the land,” as they have already “surrounded” the psalmist. If, however, it is the psalmist who is addressed here, it would seem that some translation such as “stake (me) out on the ground (like a tent)” might more appropriately render the idiom.
A lion hungry for prey. The surrounding enemies are like hungry lions moving in for the kill, crouching in ambush (Heb. mistarim [“secret places”]). The initial word of verse 12 (dimyono [“his likeness”]) speaks of the opponents of the psalmist in a collective singular in order to make the connection with the ravening lion image. Like the lion, the enemies passionately long to “tear in pieces; rend prey.”
THE PSALMIST SLIPS back into the imperative mode of speech abandoned previously at the end of verse 8. With a series of four quick imperatives, he initiates the final plea for deliverance from the surrounding enemies.
Rise up. The first imperative calls Yahweh to action in the psalmist’s behalf. From his seat on his throne of judgment, Yahweh is to stand in order to render judgment and enforce it.
Confront. Next, the psalmist pleads with Yahweh to confront the enemy troubling him. The enemy is still considered in the collective sense, as the singular suffixes indicate (panayw [“his face”], 17:13b).
Bring them down. With the third imperative, the psalmist wants Yahweh to force the enemy to bend their knee to Yahweh’s will.
Rescue. The final imperative brings the plea to the psalmist’s primary point: deliverance. This theme, coupled with a sense of confidence, dominates the remainder of the psalm.
From such men. Verse 14 is difficult and has sparked considerable discussion, particularly over the form and translation of the initial word mimtim. Delitzsch suggests the verse is linked with the last imperative in the preceding verse and thus parallels the phrase, “Deliver my nepeš from the wicked (by) your sword.” Our phrase would thus be understood something like: “(Deliver my nepeš) from dead men (by) your right hand.” Craigie instead separates the phrase from the preceding one, repoints the form in question as memitam (from mwt [“kill; cause to die”]). His emendation does little to improve the situation, in my opinion, and Delitzsch ought to be followed, as the NIV does.
The repetition of mimtim introduces the continuation of the psalmist’s thought that Yahweh should deliver the psalmist’s nepeš “from men of this world whose reward is in this life.”25 The resulting poetic composition follows a fairly regular pattern:
Save my nepeš from the wicked (with) your sword,
(Save my nepeš) from mortals (with) your hand, O Yahweh,
mortals with a brief life-span, whose portion is in life (alone).
This kind of stair-step pattern, with each line linking back to the preceding but adding some new progression, is not uncommon in the poetry of the psalms (see esp. 93:3–4).
More difficulties arise in the continuation of verse 14. The initial word appears with alternate Ketib form (indicated by the written consonants) and Qere form (indicated by vowel points). The Ketib (Heb. ṣepinka) is an unknown and probably corrupt form, while the Qere (Heb. ṣepunka) is found in a number of Hebrew manuscripts. The passive participle ṣepunka, however, is singular (“Your hidden thing, treasure”) while the verbal construction that follows anticipates a plural form (“You fill their belly”). This is usually explained by understanding ṣepunka as a collective referring (as in the NIV) to those whom Yahweh values. Such ones will not experience want but will have their bellies filled and will see their children satisfied as well.
This reflection on the faithful care and concern of Yahweh for his “treasure” leads at last to the psalmist’s concluding expression of confidence. As in the preceding sequence of psalms (esp. Pss. 13–16, but beginning perhaps as early as Ps. 11), the resolution of his hope is in coming near to Yahweh and experiencing the secure blessing of the divine presence. The psalmist recognizes that it is only the “righteous” who can stand in Yahweh’s presence (17:15; cf. 16:11) and who can hope to “be satisfied with seeing” the likeness of God. As Yahweh “fills” those who are his “treasure” and “satisfies” (śbʿ ) their children, and as the narrator of Psalm 16:11 hopes to be “filled” (śbʿ ) by God, so the faithful psalmist will receive as reward of enduring faithfulness the satisfaction (śbʿ ) of seeing God.26
The theme of coming into the divine presence was introduced in Psalm 11:7, where we heard the affirmation “the LORD is righteous, he loves justice; upright men will see his face.” Psalms 11 and 12 provide contrasting examples of the “faithless” and the “faithful” response to this earlier observation. In 14:5, the theme is renewed when we learn that “God is present in the company of the righteous.” Psalm 15 then describes the character of the one who would enter the divine presence, and Psalm 16 lays claim to the kind of righteous loyalty to Yahweh that allows the psalmist to experience “joy in [Yahweh’s] presence” (16:11). Now, Psalm 17 concludes with the fervent anticipation that the righteous psalmist will see God’s face and be satisfied (17:15).
Bridging Contexts
SEEING THE PRESENCE OF GOD. The heart of Psalm 17 is expressed in the psalmist’s final anticipation of seeing the “face” of God and of experiencing satisfaction (17:15). This desire is the subject of conflicting presentation in the Old Testament, such that further exploration is necessary. On the one hand to “seek” or to “see” God’s face is viewed positively as the appropriate goal of the righteous. In Psalm 105:4, the faithful are encouraged to “seek his face always.”27 Similarly, in 2 Chronicles 7:14 Yahweh promises that when his rebellious people “humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways,” he will hear, forgive their sin, and heal their land.
Such passages affirm that to “seek the face of God” is to seek him earnestly, willing to submit to his will.28 In this context, seeing God’s face is to experience his presence in blessing. When Yahweh “makes his face shine” on his people or “turns his face toward” them, the result is blessing.29 By contrast, when God hides his face, his presence is removed in judgment.30
Despite this positive aspect of seeing God’s face, numerous passages point instead to rather fearful consequences. Jacob, having wrestled all night with “a man” at the Wadi Jabbok, comes away from the experience rejoicing that unexpectedly “I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared” (Gen. 32:30). Similarly, when Moses beseeches Yahweh to allow him to see the divine glory, Yahweh allows him to see only the back of God, for “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live” (Ex. 33:20–23; cf. also Isaiah’s fear in Isa. 6:5).
These contexts point out the fearsome—even potentially deadly—consequences of seeing the face of God. The Exodus passage is particularly curious in light of the repeated tradition in the Pentateuch that Moses did indeed, in his many encounters with the deity, see Yahweh “face to face.”31 The solution to this apparent difficulty is perhaps to be found in Numbers 12:8, where Yahweh says of Moses, “With him I speak face to face, clearly and not in riddles; he sees the form of the LORD.” Apparently, Moses’ seeing Yahweh “face to face” meant that God was directly present with him, not that Moses saw the very visage of God. Rather, Moses was allowed to see the “form” of God—his shape. As in Exodus 33, Moses is permitted to see as much of Yahweh as is humanly possible without being destroyed. In this sense it was also possible to say to the Israelites at Sinai that Yahweh “spoke to you face to face out of the fire on the mountain” (Deut. 5:4)—meaning that God spoke directly to them in person while shielding them from the destructive consequences of their sin coming into contact with his glory.
So Israel understands that under certain circumstances it is not only possible but even desirable to “see the face of the LORD.” Seeking Yahweh’s face is encouraged because it results in an outpouring of divine blessing. This is not to deny, however, that in other circumstances the face of Yahweh continues to retain its destructive potential. The key in Israel’s understanding is how one approaches God. Unlike the wicked, who falsely persuade themselves that “God covers his face and never sees” their evil (Ps. 10:11), Israel affirms that only the “upright . . . will see his face” (11:7). Thus, the psalmist is able to approach God with words that approximate those used by Yahweh himself to describe Moses in Numbers 12:8: The psalmist will see God’s “face” (in the sense of apprehending him directly) and will also be satisfied with seeing his “likeness.”
Contemporary Significance
LIKE ISRAEL, WE Christians also desire to see God face to face and in Jesus—God incarnate—we are allowed to see as much of God as is humanly possible without destruction. Jesus, who is the very image of the Father (John 10:30; 2 Cor. 4:4; Col. 1:15) is the means by which believers can see the face of God (John 14:9; 2 Cor. 4:6).
The New Testament witness also understands that the “face of God” has fearsome potential for judgment. In 1 Peter 3:12, we learn that “the face of the Lord is against those who do evil” (a quote from Ps. 34:16), while in Revelation 6:16, the unbelievers of the earth, confronted by a day of judgment, plead to the mountains: “Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb!”
By contrast, the faithful are treated to a description of the new Jerusalem, where God and the Lamb reign forever. “No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads” (Rev. 22:3–4, italics added). In other words, the New Testament preserves the same tension as the Old between those who will experience the face of God as judgment and the faithful who discover both blessing and satisfaction when God’s face shines on them.
But how can we today experience the same satisfaction in seeing God’s face that the psalmist records? Let’s draw several short lessons from the text of Psalm 17.
An integrated life. Unlike the enemies who attack, the psalmist claims a life of integrity. Day and night, in thought, word, and deed, the psalmist holds fast to Yahweh’s paths, never slipping. What a challenge this is in our world today, where we are constantly tempted to compartmentalize family life from work life, our personal faith from “what works” with others, principled ethics from what gets the job done. At the beginning of his important book Does God Need the Church? Gerhard Lohfink tells how in the aftermath of World War II he joined the Catholic Integrated Community [Katholische Integrierte Gemeinde], a development from “the Catholic youth movement to find a new way toward a living Church in face of their horror that the Holocaust could occur in a Christian Europe.”32 Ever since that time Christians have had to struggle with what it means that such atrocities against fellow humans can occur in societies that consider themselves Christian.
We know that the need for integration is a crucial component for emotional, psychological, and spiritual well-being and wholeness. Yet we constantly find ourselves pressured to do what works rather than what we know is right. We are told that what we believe is a matter of personal opinion, ought to be kept to ourselves, and should have little influence on how we must act in the “real world.” As a result, there is little sense today that a Christian life can be clearly distinguished from the lives of unbelievers who surround us. A recent survey has demonstrated the disturbing truth that the highest rate of divorce today is among those who identify themselves as conservative, evangelical Christians?33
A powerful illustration of the difference between a fragmented life and integrated life is offered by the film The Apostle. The main character—played by Robert Duvall—is a successful Pentecostal pastor who has long juggled his enthusiastic evangelism and preaching with a hidden life of womanizing and alcohol abuse. When, however, he discovers his disenchanted wife has embarked on an affair of her own, he flies into a drunken rage and beats his wife’s lover to death with a baseball bat. Fleeing the scene of the crime, he hides himself in the backcountry of Louisiana, first working as a manual laborer but increasingly drawn to minister to the needs of local people by reviving a defunct church.
This new ministry becomes a means of personal redemption as God enables the “apostle” to reintegrate his inner and outer worlds around his repentant faith in God and his desire to bring others to redemption. At the end of the film, having submitted himself to the demands of the legal system, the “apostle” is seen working on a chain gang while encouraging the other convicts with his enthusiastic presentation of God’s power and grace unleashed in broken lives like his own.
Psalm 17 cautions us that failure to maintain integrity of thought, word, and deed has disastrous consequences. Where do we find the power to live such integrated lives in our fragmented and compartmentalized world?
Grounded in the Word. The psalmist realizes that true transparency of self must be grounded in God’s Word. “By the word of your lips I have kept myself from the ways of the violent. My steps have held to your paths; my feet have not slipped” (17:4–5). The Word of God made flesh in Christ and witnessed to in Scripture is both the criterion of divine examination (17:2–3) and the guide to the path of Yahweh (17:5). An integrated life is a life that is willing to stand under the judgment of Scripture and to guide its faltering steps by the same.
I am dismayed at the high degree of biblical illiteracy evident among the freshman college students who populate my introductory classes. Most are fine young men and women with a strong faith and a desire to serve God. But few have more than a passing awareness of the content and teaching of Scripture—especially the Old Testament. Without that foundation it is hardly surprising that many of them struggle to live lives in which knowledge, faith, and praxis are integrated. They know that smoking is addictive and can kill them, but smoking is on the rise anyway among our Christian teenagers and young adults.
Most know the biblical teaching and standards for sexuality, but many have simply given up the struggle and seek to justify their “natural need” for sexual expression without regard to marriage or commitment. They are not alone. I know too many pastors and leaders whose positions have been lost and families and congregations shattered because of an inability to properly relate one’s sexual drive and the life of faith. Scripture—honestly encountered and humbly apprehended—can confront our falsehood and lead us once again to the paths of righteousness.
Out of this world. Finally, Psalm 17 helps us to see that the power to live transparent lives of integrity comes when we find our satisfaction outside of this world. Verses 14–15 make this clear with an important contrast between the “men of this world whose reward is in this life” and those like the psalmist, who are satisfied with seeing God’s likeness.
The NIV translation of the former group (“men of this world”) obscures a powerful rendering of the Hebrew (mimtim . . . mimtim meḥeled ḥelqam baḥayyim). Taken from the root mwt (“die; death”), the plural noun metim emphasizes the mortal nature of those who are described almost literally as “dead men.”34 These emphatically mortal humans are bound to their worldly existence because their “reward [ḥeleq] is in this life.”35 By studied contrast, the psalmist finds satisfaction in seeing the “face” and “likeness” of God (17:15).
When we look to this world for our satisfaction, we are doomed from the outset to frustration and disillusionment. The author of Ecclesiastes searched far and wide and taught the futility of human endeavor and reliance on wealth, status, and power. The rewards of this world are short-lived and soon left for others to enjoy. Even respect and reputation are fleeting, and Job’s quest for divine vindication could not last. But Job, Ecclesiastes, and the author of our psalm all agree, each in his own way, on the only source of continuing satisfaction. Ecclesiastes calls it “fear of God”—acknowledgment that one is ultimately and completely dependent on the gracious mercy of God (Eccl. 12:13). Job lays down his defenses and demands when confronted at last by the undeniable presence of the Almighty—“My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you” (Job 42:5). Job’s response affirms the hope of the psalmist that the righteous will see God’s face and find satisfaction there (Ps. 17:15).