FOR THE DIRECTOR of music. Of David the servant of the LORD. He sang to the LORD the words of this song when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies and from the hand of Saul. He said:
1I love you, O LORD, my strength.
2The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
3I call to the LORD, who is worthy of praise,
and I am saved from my enemies.
4The cords of death entangled me;
the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me.
5The cords of the grave coiled around me;
the snares of death confronted me.
6In my distress I called to the LORD;
I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
my cry came before him, into his ears.
7The earth trembled and quaked,
and the foundations of the mountains shook;
they trembled because he was angry.
8Smoke rose from his nostrils;
consuming fire came from his mouth,
burning coals blazed out of it.
9He parted the heavens and came down;
dark clouds were under his feet.
10He mounted the cherubim and flew;
he soared on the wings of the wind.
11He made darkness his covering, his canopy around him—
the dark rain clouds of the sky.
12Out of the brightness of his presence clouds advanced,
with hailstones and bolts of lightning.
13The LORD thundered from heaven;
the voice of the Most High resounded.
14He shot his arrows and scattered the enemies,
great bolts of lightning and routed them.
15The valleys of the sea were exposed
and the foundations of the earth laid bare
at your rebuke, O LORD,
at the blast of breath from your nostrils.
16He reached down from on high and took hold of me;
he drew me out of deep waters.
17He rescued me from my powerful enemy,
from my foes, who were too strong for me.
18They confronted me in the day of my disaster,
but the LORD was my support.
19He brought me out into a spacious place;
he rescued me because he delighted in me.
20The LORD has dealt with me according to my righteousness;
according to the cleanness of my hands he has rewarded me.
21For I have kept the ways of the LORD;
I have not done evil by turning from my God.
22All his laws are before me;
I have not turned away from his decrees.
23I have been blameless before him
and have kept myself from sin.
24The LORD has rewarded me according to my righteousness,
according to the cleanness of my hands in his sight.
25To the faithful you show yourself faithful,
to the blameless you show yourself blameless,
26to the pure you show yourself pure,
but to the crooked you show yourself shrewd.
27You save the humble
but bring low those whose eyes are haughty.
28You, O LORD, keep my lamp burning;
my God turns my darkness into light.
29With your help I can advance against a troop;
with my God I can scale a wall.
30As for God, his way is perfect;
the word of the LORD is flawless.
for all who take refuge in him.
31For who is God besides the LORD?
And who is the Rock except our God?
32It is God who arms me with strength
and makes my way perfect.
33He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;
he enables me to stand on the heights.
34He trains my hands for battle;
my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
35You give me your shield of victory,
and your right hand sustains me;
you stoop down to make me great.
36You broaden the path beneath me,
so that my ankles do not turn.
37I pursued my enemies and overtook them;
I did not turn back till they were destroyed.
38I crushed them so that they could not rise;
they fell beneath my feet.
39You armed me with strength for battle;
you made my adversaries bow at my feet.
40You made my enemies turn their backs in flight,
and I destroyed my foes.
41They cried for help, but there was no one to save them—
to the LORD, but he did not answer.
42I beat them as fine as dust borne on the wind;
I poured them out like mud in the streets.
43You have delivered me from the attacks of the people;
you have made me the head of nations;
people I did not know are subject to me.
44As soon as they hear me, they obey me;
foreigners cringe before me.
45They all lose heart;
they come trembling from their strongholds.
46The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock!
Exalted be God my Savior!
47He is the God who avenges me,
who subdues nations under me,
48who saves me from my enemies.
from violent men you rescued me.
49Therefore I will praise you among the nations, O LORD;
I will sing praises to your name.
50He gives his king great victories;
he shows unfailing kindness to his anointed,
to David and his descendants forever.
Original Meaning
Psalm 18 is a close copy of the composition that appears in 2 Samuel 22:1–51. There, as here, the psalm is described as David’s melodic response to the divine deliverance from “the hand of all his enemies,” including Saul (2 Sam. 22:1; cf. Ps. 18:0). The psalm is an extended hymn of praise to Yahweh for his deliverance of the psalmist from a host of enemies. The theme of Yahweh as “rock,” “fortress,” and “refuge” appears at significant points throughout the psalm (18:2, 30–31, 46).1
Structurally, the psalm falls into five sections: an introduction of praise for Yahweh’s deliverance (18:1–3), a narrative in almost mythic terms of Yahweh’s saving acts in behalf of the psalmist (18:4–19), a passage of instruction in which the personal righteousness of the psalmist provides guidance for the reader/hearer (18:20–29), a description of victory over the enemies in which the psalmist’s commitment to Yahweh serves as an example to the reader/hearer (18:30–45), and a conclusion that returns to praise of Yahweh (18:46–50).
The Heading (18:0)
THE PSALM IS referred to “the director of music” and is attributed to David.2 David is further qualified by the term “servant of Yahweh” (leʿebed yhwh)—a phrase most commonly associated with Moses throughout the Old Testament but referring exclusively to David in the psalms (here; 36:0).3 This phrase conveys a relationship of great strength and loyalty and confers on the bearer an elevated authority of declaring the divine word and leading God’s people.
The heading also includes a historical statement (almost identical to 2 Sam. 22:1)4 that connects the psalm to David’s experience of deliverance from his enemies through victory over them. The psalm heading differs from 2 Samuel 22:1 in two minor respects. (1) The opening phrases of the psalm heading employ the ʾašer clause pattern common to a number of historical statements in the headings (ʾašer dibber lyhwh [“who spoke to Yahweh”]), while in 2 Samuel a more narrative construction is used (“and David spoke to Yahweh”). As a result, in each case the psalm is bound more closely into its broader context. Psalm 18 is usually included in the category of psalms known as “royal psalms.”5
(2) The other variation between the two versions of the psalm is even more minor. Second Samuel 22:1, in referring to David’s deliverance from Saul, repeats the phrase “from the palm [kap] of Saul” used in the previous reference to the enemies (“from the palm [kap] of all his enemies”). Psalm 18, however, offers a stylistic variation in reference to Saul by using the frequently parallel phrase “from the hand [yad] of Saul.”
Whether or not David actually composed this hymn is a matter of conjecture, with commentators taking either position. The language of the psalm is for the most part too general to allow specific connection with identifiable life-settings. That the narrator is a king of Israel is suggested by verses that mention “ruling over nations” (18:43, 47), Yahweh’s giving victory to “his king” (18:50), and references to God’s “anointed, to David and his descendants forever” (18:50). While these references suggest a king as speaker of these verses, other verses indicate some caution in too easy an identification with David. In 18:6, Yahweh is described as hearing the psalmist’s cry of distress “from his temple.” If this means the earthly temple constructed by Solomon, the psalm would reflect a context subsequent to the death of David, or else it must be explained as a later interpolation.
Additionally, the psalmist’s radical protestations of innocence in 18:20–24 seem difficult to square with David’s sin with Bathsheba (which forms the presumed backdrop for Ps. 51) and with 1 Chronicles 22:7–9, where David is described as a “man of blood” and was prevented by God from building the temple.
Introductory Praise (18:1–3)
THE PSALMIST BEGINS with first-person address of his love to Yahweh, “I love you, O LORD” (18:1),6 and then continues in the third person to heap up epithets of Yahweh that call forth the psalmist’s praise. Yahweh is the psalmist’s strength (ḥizqi), rock (salʿi), fortress (meṣudati), deliverer (mepalṭi), rock of refuge (ṣuri ʾeḥeseh bo), shield (maginni), horn of salvation (qeren yišʿi), and stronghold (miśgabbi). All these epithets respond to Yahweh as source of refuge, protection, and deliverance. The theme of “refuge in Yahweh” is a prominent one in the Psalter and began as early as 2:11. Psalm 18 brings together in the space of these two verses almost all of the phrases characteristic of this theme.7 I will comment briefly on each term that appears here for the first time.8
My strength. The psalmist considers Yahweh to be the source of “strength.” Later in the psalm, he describes how Yahweh enables him to perform all the feats necessary for effective and successful action in battle. The term employed here in this opening phrase appears only here in the Old Testament, so its meaning is somewhat obscure. It does, however, come from the common Hebrew root ḥzq, which bears the meaning “be strong, hard.” The sense is to have a “tough, enduring” quality.
My rock. The two Hebrew terms employed in this passage for “rock” (selaʿ in 18:2a; ṣur in 18:2b) offer little to separate them and are often used in parallel constructions. If there is any distinction, it seems to me that selaʿ more frequently suggests larger, more massive natural structures such as crags, cliffs, and mountainsides, while ṣur can more often refer to lesser features like boulders. This is, however, not a consistent distinction, and there is much overlap between these two terms. The image of God as “rock” is common in the Psalter and stresses two aspects of his protective care for humans who trust in him. (1) God as rock provides a firm, unshakable place for those who rely on him. (2) More specifically related to this passage, God is the inaccessible rocky crag or mountain hideaway in which the beleaguered psalmist can rest secure from all attacks.
My fortress. Hebrew meṣudah (“fortress,” 18:2a), like the references to God as rock, conjures up visions of a remote mountain stronghold in inaccessible terrain that inhibits hostile attack by its very isolation and harsh environment. Closely related is miśgab (18:2c), which denotes a rocky high spot used as refuge. I am reminded of the massive fortress of Masada9 on a rocky plateau overlooking the Dead Sea, or a variety of cliff dwellings and caves along the walls of the twisting wadis (stream beds) that wind their way down from Jerusalem to the Jordan River near Jericho. Archaeological surveys have uncovered numerous such sites that were inhabited from prehistoric times into the Middle Ages. Such remote locations afforded security to outlaws as well as to refugee citizens under attack by enemy forces.
These hideouts were used regularly by Jewish rebels and zealots from the time of the Maccabean revolt in the second century B.C. through the first and second Jewish rebellions in the first and second centuries A.D. In the Middle Ages, Christian monks and hermits gravitated to these remote sites, seeking the solitude that allowed their personal search for prayer, meditation, self-sacrifice, and ultimate union with God. The monastery of St. George still stands in the Wadi Qelt, halfway between Jerusalem and Jericho.
God has become for the psalmist a place of security equal to one of these rugged, isolated, and inaccessible mountain fortresses. He can withdraw to God in the same way as those under attack can withdraw to their hidden caves to avoid discovery by their enemies.
My horn. The image of the “horn” (qeren) refers to animal horns used either as musical instruments or as containers for liquids—especially oil for anointing those selected for divine purposes. The horn was often a symbol of strength, power, and victory, perhaps because animals contested other animals by butting and thrusting horns at them. To “exalt the horn” of someone (1 Sam. 2:1, 10) is to augment their power so that they secure victory. On the contrary, to “cut off the horn” (as in dehorning cattle) is to limit one’s effectiveness in battle and to bring about defeat (Jer. 48:25). To envision Yahweh as the psalmist’s “horn” is to understand that Yahweh is the source of power and strength that ensures the psalmist’s ultimate victory against his foes.
My deliverer. Yahweh is the one who helps the psalmist “evade” or “escape” those who attack; he is the psalmist’s “deliverer” (from plṭ [“effect escape, help to escape”]). Including this verse, the participle form occurs five times in the Psalter (18:2, 48; 40:17; 70:5; 144:2), on each occasion emphasizing the character of Yahweh as deliverer of the oppressed. The appearance of other forms of this same root and stem in eleven other passages indicates the importance of this theme in the psalms.10 Outside the Psalter, comparable forms are found only four times—twice in the parallel context (2 Sam. 22:2, 44) and once each in Job 23:7 and Micah 6:14.
Chiastic structures. These eight terms (strength, rock, fortress, deliverer, rock, shield, horn, stronghold) are artfully arrayed in a complex literary structure, in which each of the first four terms in 18:1–2a is paralleled by one of the four terms that follow in 18:2b–c. Some of these connections are more obvious. “Rock” (salʿi, 18:2a) is related to “rock” (ṣuri, 18:2b), while “fortress” (meṣudati, 18:2a) is linked to “stronghold” (miśgabbi, 18:2c). Moving from these clear relationships, it is not difficult to recognize that “strength” (18:1) is also related to “horn” (symbol of “power” in 18:2c), and “deliverer” (18:2a) must be connected to the remaining term “shield” (18:2c).11 These terms are introduced in an order that produces a complex chiastic relationship.12 After the first set of terms are introduced,
strength | rock | fortress | deliverer |
the related terms are so arranged that the two inner terms (rock = rock; fortress = stronghold) are moved to the outside, while the outer terms (strength = horn; deliverer = shield) are moved to the interior and even transposed with each other, forming the following chiastic relationship:
The complexity of the relationship illustrates the poetic artistry characteristic of ancient Hebrew poetic technique.
I call to the LORD. The introductory verses draw to a conclusion with a summary statement that prefigures the outcome of the psalm. The psalmist calls on Yahweh in time of need and experiences divine deliverance. While bringing the introduction to a close, this verse also provides transition to the description of distress that follows.
Narrative of Deliverance (18:4–19)
THE NARRATIVE BEGINS with a generalized description of distress (18:4–6), continues with a theophany (18:7–15), and concludes with a description of divine deliverance (18:16–19).
Distress. The attack experienced by the psalmist is life-threatening. While we gain no specifics from the description, it is clear that he understands the circumstance as being bound over to the power of death. Twice the phrase “cords of death” appears (18:4a, 5a), along with the similar image of the “snares of death” (18:5b). The psalmist feels bound and trapped, being drawn helplessly toward death, and he needs God to act as deliverer or liberator, one who helps him to escape from these entanglements. The alternative image of the rushing torrents of the sea (or perhaps the tumbling waters of a flash flood in a normally dry wadi) drives home the threat the psalmist feels. Life is going under, and only Yahweh can save.
When the psalmist calls, Yahweh hears and responds (18:6). God is depicted as enthroned in the temple (18:6c)—possibly a sign that the psalmist’s cry is understood as prayer uttered during temple worship. The mention of the temple,13 as noted above, makes it less likely that the psalm was composed by David as the heading supposes—unless the temple is envisioned as the heavenly abode (or palace) of God rather than the earthly temple. That Yahweh is viewed as coming down through the clouds (18:9), thundering from heaven (18:13), and reaching down from on high (18:16) would seem to lend weight to this latter interpretation.
Theophany. The narrative of deliverance now moves to an extended theophany,14 in which the approach of God into the profane world of human existence is described with all its fearsome effects. The awesome power and majesty of the divine glory entering the human world is not business as usual. God’s holy otherness places sinful humanity under threat, and even the created order suffers by direct exposure to his presence. The created world cannot contain the creator, and its usual laws and order are stretched to the breaking point by this divine intrusion.
The earth trembled and quaked. Earthquake imagery paints a fearsome scene of Yahweh’s coming. God is the creator of the earth—the one who set the foundations that render it stable—and when Yahweh comes in anger (18:7c) or in judgment, the very stability of the earth, on which humans rely, is shaken to its core.
Smoke rose from his nostrils. The psalmist mixes several images in the attempt to stress the awesome and frightful power of righteous God in judgment on human evil. Here, in an almost dragonlike picture, God in his wrath breathes out smoke and fire, pouring out a “consuming fire” of coals from his mouth. It would be easy to assume that the smoke and fire are indications of God’s anger and wrath poured out on sinful humans. However, we should exercise some caution here. The consuming fire is not so much an indication of divine wrath as it is a sign of the complete “otherness” that sets God apart from humans.
He parted the heavens and came down. As often in theophanic passages, Yahweh is depicted as coming from a distance—here, from “the heavens.”15 The verb rendered “parted” (nṭh) is among the more confusing forms in the Old Testament, since in some circumstances (such as here) only one of its three root consonants remain. Fortunately, the word occurs frequently enough that its varied forms are generally recognizable. The term describes the act of stretching something out—as a tent in erecting it or two hands in a dramatic gesture. Here it is as if Yahweh “parts” the heavens as one opens up a bead curtain by holding back the two sides with outstretched hands. Whether the psalmist has a specific storm phenomenon in mind is unclear, but Yahweh’s entrance from the heaven is clearly related to the storm imagery that follows.16
Dark clouds. The Hebrew ʿarapel (NIV “dark clouds”) on many occasions catches the forbidding gloom that attends and shrouds the presence of God (Ex. 20:21; Deut. 4:11; 5:22; 1 Kings 8:12) when he appears to humans. Such foreboding clouds are certainly part of the storm imagery the psalmist is using here. But as we will see in the Bridging Contexts section, the clouds serve a dual purpose: dramatically introducing the gathering gloom of impending judgment, yet protecting humans from the destructive power of Yahweh’s consuming fire.
Mounted the cherubim. The storm imagery directed to Yahweh here has connections with broader ancient Near Eastern texts describing the pagan storm deities—in particular, Baal. Craigie17 goes so far as to suggest our text is an adaptation of the Canaanite themes surrounding the struggle of the chaotic gods Yam (Sea) and Mot (Death) with Baal. In his view the adaptation has shifted this cosmic struggle to the more specific hopes for deliverance from the psalmist’s distress. This stretches the imagery further than it was intended to go, but there is no doubt about association with storm imagery. Yahweh mounts18 a cherub and flies. He “soars” on the “wings of the wind” (kanpe ruaḥ).19 Note especially how the biblical passages claim Yahweh’s authority over the power of the storm at the expense of the pagan deities who supposedly rule it. Note here Psalm 68:4, which uses the common Canaanite epithet of Baal20—“(the one) who rides on the clouds”—and immediately counters with the qualification “his name is the LORD.”
He made darkness his covering. Again, as in verse 9, darkness obscures the approaching deity. That this cloaking of God is intentional rather than accidental is implied by the active verb yašet (from šyt [“set, appoint”]) as well as the accompanying noun that the NIV translates “his covering” (seter). The straightforward meaning of this noun is “hiding place,” implying an intentional secrecy on God’s part. This is part of the gracious mystery of God. In coming near to make himself known, God conceals himself both in mystery and grace. God is more than we can know in our limited, sinful humanity. Thus, he allows us to see as much of him as we can bear while obscuring what would overwhelm and ultimately destroy us.
The brightness of his presence. Additional storm phenomena are described as accompanying Yahweh’s approach. Hail (18:12b), lightning (18:12b, 14b), and thunder (18:13a) are viewed as the weapons and war cry of the divine warrior21 to route his enemies. Lightning bolts are also mentioned as the weapons of the Canaanite storm deity Baal and are depicted in stylized fashion on various reliefs and stelae from Ras Shamra.22 Yahweh arrives to confront his enemies and shoots hail and lightning bolts at them like “arrows” (18:14a). The enemy, thus confronted, is scattered and routed.
The valleys of the sea were exposed. The mythological character of the theophany is revealed as the language of divine conflict slips over into the cosmic struggle between Yahweh and the chaotic waters of creation. The shift in verse 15 connects the enemies against which Yahweh comes with the waters of the earth that are forced to withdraw before the majestic power and onslaught of Yahweh. As they flee, the “valleys of the sea” are exposed to sight, and the “foundations of the earth”23 are revealed.
A common Near Eastern motif is the cosmic struggle between the ancient gods of the chaotic waters (Apsu and Tiamat) against the younger gods of order and stability. The defeat of the ancient gods by the younger was the first step toward stability and order that made human existence on the earth possible. In the Old Testament, these ancient myths have been reinterpreted in light of Yahweh’s role as sole deity and creator. Yahweh is the one who divides the waters and sets the boundaries they are not to pass.24 Elements of struggle between Yahweh and the chaotic ancient waters are retained in such poetic contexts as our present psalm and others (e.g., 74:12–14; 89:9–10; 93:3–4; 124:4–5).25
Deliverance. The final segment of the narrative shifts the focus from the power of Yahweh displayed in the storm and in his successful conflict with the chaotic waters to the psalmist’s personal experience of deliverance. This connection is made by viewing the distress as being overwhelmed by “deep waters,” from which Yahweh extracts the psalmist (18:16). These threatening “waters” are identified with his real enemies 18:17—those “who were too strong for me.” Yahweh, however, is the psalmist’s “support” (18:18b), and he swoops “down from on high,” like some rescuing helicopter, to pull26 the despairing psalmist to safety.27
That the psalmist considers the circumstances desperate is indicated by the use of the term ʾed (“[final] disaster”) to describe the impending doom represented by the enemies’ confronting attack (Heb. qdm [“confront, oppose”]; cf. 18:5b, where the “snares of death” confront the psalmist). Yet Yahweh leads the psalmist out into a “spacious place,” a place with breathing room, where the strictures of siege and attack are removed (18:19a).
Because he delighted in me. Divine aid is the consequence of divine “delight” in the psalmist. Yahweh has a relationship of protective joy with him. This awareness forms a transitional bridge with the following confessional section. Here rescue depends on an attitude of divine delight and pleasure; in what follows, divine pleasure with humans rests on a foundation of righteousness and loyalty—characteristics that Yahweh possesses innately as part of his essential character but which humans are called to emulate in response to divine love.
Instruction in Righteousness (18:20–29)
THESE TEN VERSES admonish the readers/hearers to enter into a relationship of righteous loyalty to Yahweh so that they too might experience divine delight and deliverance. The section is further divided into three subsections that alternate between the personal experience of the psalmist (vv. 20–24, 27–29) and more general instruction to the faithful (vv. 25–26).
Personal righteousness. The first subsection is clearly marked off by an inclusio of almost identical verses at beginning and end (18:20, 24),28 which set out the primary theme of the whole larger section: Divine deliverance is a consequence of personal righteousness, loyalty, and cleanness of hands. This is intended to encourage those who hear to use the psalmist’s experience as a guide in order to experience divine deliverance in their own lives.
Between the two elements of the inclusio, the psalmist protests innocence in relation to Yahweh’s demands. He has kept loyalty to Yahweh by having “kept his ways” and not “turned from him” (18:21). More specifically he claims adherence to the “laws” (mišpaṭayw) and “decrees” (ḥuqqotayw) of Yahweh—a clear reference to the Mosaic law (18:22). Finally, the psalmist assumes a position of ultimate satisfaction of divine expectation that is styled as “blameless” avoidance of “sin.” While this does not assume absolute perfection, it does imply a serious dedication to righteousness and availing oneself of the remedies for sin and restoration of relationship set out in the Mosaic law.
Admonition to the faithful. The second subsection (18:25–26) uses the device of repeated reciprocity to encourage the faithful to adopt a fruitful relation to Yahweh. The basic premise is that since one receives from Yahweh what one gives to Yahweh, it is best to choose a lifestyle that issues forth in blessing rather than disaster. The subsection is marked by a shift to second-person direct address to Yahweh.
Using a series of balanced phrases introduced by the Hebrew particle ʿim (“if”) and continuing with nouns followed by verbs of the same root, the psalmist drives home the intimate relationship between human character and divine response. To the “faithful” (ḥasid [“one who is loyal to covenant obligations”]) Yahweh demonstrates faithfulness (from ḥsd [“show oneself faithful”]). To the “blameless” (gebar tamim) he is “blameless” (from tmm [“show oneself blameless”]) in return. To the “pure” (nabar, from brr) Yahweh is also “pure” (from brr). By way of contrast, however, to those who are “crooked” (ʿiqqeš), Yahweh shows himself to be “shrewd” (from ptl).29
Personal empowerment. The third subsection (18:27–29) offers a series of summary statements that move the discussion from the more general acknowledgment of the previous section that Yahweh is the hope of the faithful (18:25–26) to the more specific and personal recognition that Yahweh is indeed the psalmist’s own source of strength against the enemy. These three verses are each introduced by the particle ki (“for, because”), providing the grounds for the confidence previously expressed.
The first statement (18:27) employs the characteristic wisdom contrast between the “righteous/humble” and the “wicked/haughty” to make transition from the earlier general reflection on Yahweh’s caring response to the faithful to the more personal experience of the psalmist. Yahweh “saves the humble but brings low . . . [the] haughty.”
Using two independent images—light within darkness and the necessary courage to face battle—the psalmist now attests personally to Yahweh’s empowerment in the face of difficult and threatening circumstances. In the darkest night, Yahweh supplies the psalmist’s lamp with oil so that the resulting light turns back the darkness.30 It is like an endless supply of batteries to keep the flashlight going when one is lost in the dark woods, or like a ready supply of firewood to keep the wolves at bay while sending out signals to the rescue party. For the soldier faced by a whole enemy troop or the attacker scaling the wall of a fortress bristling with soldiers, Yahweh supplies the energy and courage to move forward against seemingly insurmountable odds.
The Way of Victory (18:30–45)
A CHANGE FROM first-person direct address to third-person description of God signals the shift to the fourth major section of the psalm: a description of the victory that the faithful experience when they trust in the “perfect way” of Yahweh. The section is introduced by verses 30–31, which return to the major themes of refuge and God as “rock” (ṣur) with which the psalm began (18:1–2). Note how reference to God as rock returns also at the beginning of the final section of the psalm (18:46), suggesting a purposeful structural function for this theme.
His way is perfect. As the psalmist claims to have followed the righteous paths set out by Yahweh (18:21), so Yahweh perfectly fulfills what is expected of the divine covenant partner. His “way” of dealing with humans and the world cannot be faulted—Yahweh is tamim (“whole, complete, intact, integrated”), just as the psalmist has claimed to be tamim (18:23). This means Yahweh can be trusted to do what he says, to act according to his promises and commitments. The synonymously parallel second phrase bears this foundation of trust out even further, since each word of Yahweh is also “flawless” (18:30b [“refined for purity, tested”]).31
Shield . . . refuge. Because of the integrity of God’s way and the purity of his word, he can be trusted as a shield and refuge by those who bind themselves to him by righteousness and “cleanness of hands” (cf. 18:20–24). To these faithful ones, Yahweh proves to be a faithful deliverer and shield (cf. 18:25–27). Yahweh is the rock who provides refuge for those who trust in him (18:31; cf. 2:12). The psalmist’s confidence in Yahweh is expressed in the form of two rhetorical questions: “Who is God besides [mibbalʿade]32 Yahweh? And who is the Rock except [zulati]33 our God?” The obviously anticipated answer is “No one!” Yahweh is the only trustworthy source of refuge and deliverance available to the faithful.
Arms me with strength. God as “rock,” “refuge,” and “shield” are not fuzzy, pious, hopeful concepts to the psalmist; they are grounded in the harsh and yet practical context of real-world experience. God here is not a vague, “pie-in-the-sky-by-and-by” future hope but an effective reality of strength and deliverance here and now. Along with giving strength, Yahweh also provides sure footing in the conflicts of life (18:32b–33). In 17:5, the psalmist refers to surefootedness as a sign of commitment to Yahweh. Here it is Yahweh who makes the psalmist nimble like a deer in rough terrain.
The image the psalmist chooses—perhaps from personal experience, perhaps from poetic empathy—is almost a divine “boot camp” for warriors. As Paul in Ephesians 6:10–18 admonishes the faithful to take advantage of the full array of spiritual armor available from God in their fight against the spiritual powers of this world, so the psalmist envisions a divine program of training and equipping that will enable the faithful to turn back enemy onslaughts and achieve victory over them. While this psalm expresses David’s response to divine deliverance from his enemies, to focus only on this experience misses the intended admonition of the faithful through the ages to allow God to train and prepare them for the struggles they face.
Here those struggles are styled as military conflicts requiring physical battle with sword, bow and arrows, agility, and endurance. But as we have seen from Paul’s passage on spiritual armor, these conflicts may be spiritual as well. Certainly the reason this psalm was reused, preserved, and passed on was its ability to continue to speak to a variety of persons and contexts of conflict—whether physical or emotional, military engagement or spiritual conflict. We will return to this subject in the section on Contemporary Significance.
He trains my hands for battle. The psalmist considers Yahweh the source of strength, endurance, agility, and skill in battle. He uses a variety of images to drive this home. Not only does Yahweh strengthen the narrator’s arms (18:32a), but he also makes his feet agile like the deer so that he is secure in precarious places (18:33). The psalmist is empowered to bend the powerful compound bow34 to do battle. He is protected by Yahweh’s “shield of victory” (or “salvation,” 18:35a), and God himself supports the weary warrior in the midst of the fight (18:35b–c).
You broaden the path. Even the path the psalmist takes during the conflict is guarded and guided by God. In a play on the psalmist’s earlier acknowledgment that Yahweh’s “way” is “perfect” (tamim in 18:30a), it is now Yahweh who, during the heat of battle, makes the psalmist’s “way” “perfect” (tamim in 18:32b). The immediate context implies that Yahweh is protecting the psalmist’s every move in battle so that he is preserved from deadly mistakes of movement and judgment. In the middle of hand-to-hand combat it is easy to slip or to move without thinking into a restricted position that prevents effective fighting and gives the opponent the advantage. God is watching the psalmist like a fellow soldier to see this does not happen. This interpretation is supported by the parallel thought in 18:36, where Yahweh broadens the terrain so that the psalmist’s footing remains sure.
I pursued my enemies. The psalm now moves from a section of “you” language, describing Yahweh’s equipping of the psalmist, to “I” language, detailing his use of that equipping to defeat the enemy. The psalmist “pursues” (rdp), “overtakes” (nśg), “destroys” (klh), and “crushes” (mḥṣ) the enemy so that they fall at his feet—either dead or in an act of submission (18:37–38).35
You armed me with strength. The psalmist returns to a recognition that any accomplishments of strength on the battlefield are the results of divine empowerment. “You” language returns, and the theme of divine strengthening first encountered in 18:32a is reprised, so that the defeat and submission of the enemies is ultimately God’s accomplishment (18:39–40a).
I silenced my foes. The final phrase of verse 40 returns to “I” language and both concludes the preceding section (18:39–40) and prepares for what follows. The verb used here (ṣmt) ought to be translated “I silenced them [those who hate me]” rather than the NIV’s “I destroyed [them].” Yahweh’s empowerment of the psalmist, their forced submission, and their inability to flee have resulted in the psalmist’s experience of “silencing” the foe who had previously taunted. In verse 41, these defeated and silenced enemies are effectively muffled again as their pleas for help—even to Yahweh himself—go unheeded. They are left vulnerable to the attack of the psalmist, who describes his victory in the “I” language of 18:42.
I beat them as fine as dust. The background of the images used in this verse is not certain but sounds like a potter beating up old pots into powder in order to reconstitute it as clay once more (cf. Ps. 2:9), although the winnowing of wheat to separate it from the chaff also seems to fit the “blowing in the wind” image. Craigie’s “pulverized”36 is graphic but does not exactly capture the nuance of the verb šḥq, which describes an act of “grinding” a substance (such as incense) into powder rather than beating it.
The parallel phrase is rendered difficult by confusion regarding the verb ʾariqem (“empty, pour out”), which 2 Samuel 22:43 reads as ʾadiqqem (“crush, pulverize”—a more exact parallel with the preceding phrase). Where the dust in the first phrase is blown away “on the wind,” it is “wet clay, mud, potter’s clay” that is either “poured out” or “crushed” in the street. Some translators take the latter to mean “trampled under foot.”37 It seems to me that the psalmist is mixing metaphors here—describing the fineness of the pulverized material by reference to the fine dust blown about by the desert sirroco and then reverting to a wet clay image in the following line. Regardless, the idea of destroying and discarding the enemy is complete.
You have delivered me. Note the literary pattern that is well established by the time the reader reaches this verse. In a series of “you” statements the psalmist describes Yahweh’s saving and equipping acts (cf. 18:35–36, 39–40, 43). Then in each case he moves to describe a personal experience of the consequences of this divine empowerment (18:37–38, 41–42, 44–45), the first two of which are marked by repeated “I” language.
Here divine deliverance has led to unanticipated authority over the defeated enemy, who are understood as defeated “nations” for the first time. The narrator becomes—by Yahweh’s empowerment—the “head of nations” and is served by peoples he did not even know existed! Here the narrator begins to be identified in a “kingly” way. He is “head of nations,” and people “serve” and “obey” (šmʿ )38 him. Foreigners “cringe” (lit., “feign submission”), “lose heart” (lit., “wither, fall like leaves”) before him, and come “trembling from their strongholds” (lit., “dungeons”).39 The picture is of a conquering king receiving the submission of his enemies.
Conclusion of Praise (18:46–50)
THE PSALM CONCLUDES with a song of praise to Yahweh for deliverance and victory. This section begins by referring to Yahweh as the psalmist’s “rock” (ṣuri), linking back to the opening lines of the psalm (18:2) as well as to the opening of the previous section (18:31), and bringing this important theme of the psalm to an appropriate end.
Once again the section moves back and forth from “he” language describing Yahweh’s role as deliverer/empowerer (18:46–48a, 50), “you” language praising Yahweh directly (18:48b–49), and “I” language expressing the narrator’s firm commitment to praise and exalt God (18:49). The conclusion revisits the major themes of the psalm, including Yahweh as “rock” and the author of victory (18:46, 47, 50) and the narrator empowered by God to subdue and rule over the enemy (18:48b, 50). Here, finally, the narrator is specifically identified with kingship and David (18:50). This concluding phrase (also present in 2 Sam. 22) leaves uncertain whether the kingly figure intended is actually David or a member of the Davidic dynasty who occupies the throne at a particular point in time. The last phrase “to David and his descendants forever” tends to support the latter understanding.
The psalmist’s promise to “sing praises to” the name of Yahweh among the nations (18:49) mirrors the similar promises made in 9:11 and 57:9 and the comparable commitment to praise Yahweh “before the gods” in Psalm 138. While this promise could certainly reflect preexilic concern to attest loyalty to Yahweh in Israel surrounded by the pagan nations, the sentiment clearly took on heightened significance for the exilic community, who were “scattered among the nations” (cf. Pss. 44:11; 106:27; Ezek. 20:23) and who struggled with what it meant to continue to “sing the songs of Zion” and “the LORD’s songs” while in captivity in foreign lands (cf. Ps. 137). While the appearance of this theme in clearly exilic contexts does not mean that our present psalm was composed to speak to the community of exiles, it surely represents one important reason why Psalm 18 was treasured and preserved by those who had experienced a similar call to commitment in the face of conflict with pagan religion.
DIVINE OTHERNESS. WHEN the psalmists employ fearsome imagery to capture the radical “otherness” that marks God’s approach to the sphere of human existence, they often emphasize the effects of God’s presence on the physical creation. Mountains smoke and melt, the earth quakes, and even the seas recede as if seeking to avoid the holy God. In these descriptions the psalmists are communicating several truths about the world in which we live.
(1) Creation is not the creator but can in fact be threatened by God’s approach and presence. Like the humans who reside within it, the physical earth is corrupted by evil and subject to the judgment of God’s essential holiness—with its incompatibility with evil. While Genesis 1–11 makes it clear that the earth only came to its corrupted state as a result of human evil and disobedience, the earth is seen as vulnerable to the powerful presence of holy God.
This vulnerable “otherness” is also seen in the fact that the earth owes its very existence and continuation to the mercy and grace of the creator God. The fact that when Yahweh comes, the very foundations of the earth are shaken to their core, illustrates that the continued existence of the earth is wholly dependent on the will and purpose of God.
The fearsome phenomena that attend Yahweh’s coming have much in common with the judgment unleashed on the earth by God in the Flood (Gen. 6–9). When God saw that humans were unremittingly evil (6:5) and that the whole earth had been infected by their violence (6:11–12), he determined to release the chaotic waters above and below the earth—waters he had restricted at creation in order to provide the secure environment that allows humans to thrive. The decision to flood the earth was in essence a decisive act of uncreation. The chaotic waters threatened to undo the tenuous stability represented by the earth and demonstrated decisively that the protective environment depends entirely on God’s gracious will. The approach of the righteous God into a decidedly unrighteous world presents much the same threat.
(2) By undoing the stability of creation, God is undermining any false sense of reliance by humans on their seemingly secure environment. In the words of the old spiritual, “This world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through!” Humans must hold existence in this world lightly and rely on God alone rather than any stability the world may seem to represent.40
(3) Another image of divine “otherness” is the psalmist’s use of the “consuming fire.” Elsewhere in Scripture, the biblical writers acknowledge that God is in his essential character a “consuming fire.”41 When Deuteronomy 4:24 affirms that “the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God” (quoted in Heb. 12:29), it is saying something akin to Yahweh’s own declaration to Moses in Exodus 33:20: “You cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” Yahweh is righteous, holy, wholly other, and absolutely incompatible with evil and sin.42 Thus, the problem of how sinful humans might come unharmed into the presence of a holy God necessitated—in Israel’s historical understanding—the institution of sacrificial worship intended to atone for sin and to make continued communion with God possible.
Despite the promise of divine forgiveness and restoration of relationship held out in Israel’s temple worship system, Israel never forgot the fearful aspect of coming unprepared into the presence of God. While Moses might visit with Yahweh “face to face” (Ex. 33:11; Deut. 34:10), others found the prospect daunting. Jacob was shaken after realizing God was at Bethel (Gen. 28:10–19), and the people of Israel who gathered at Mount Sinai were so terrified by the appearance of the glory of Yahweh on the top of the mountain (with theophanic smoke, fire, and quaking) that they refused to speak with him directly (“face to face”) but sent Moses as their intermediary (Ex. 20:18–21; Deut. 5:4–5).
Jewish tradition tells us that even the high priest, who entered the Most Holy Place once a year to deliver the blood of the sin offering to the atonement cover of the ark of the covenant, must have done so with fear and trembling. He wore bells attached to his garments to indicate to those outside (should they cease to jingle) if he was struck down by God and needed to be hauled out by the ever-present rope tied around his ankle. Entering God’s presence was (and still is) serious business and is fraught with danger for the sinful, unwary, or unaware.
Rather than just a sign of divine displeasure, then, it is this inherent danger of coming into the presence of Yahweh that the psalmist captures in these tense images of a God breathing smoke and fire, shaking the foundations of the earth with his coming. Even at his most beneficent, Yahweh is no one to be trifled with or approached lightly.
Light within darkness. The psalmist effectively uses the interplay between light and darkness to demonstrate the dual nature of Yahweh’s essential holiness. On the one hand, the dark clouds in which Yahweh cloaks himself represent the impending judgment against sinful humans. God’s withdrawal from full and open fellowship with them is a consequence of human disobedience and sin. Thus, humans no longer enjoy direct communion with their maker. Because the gloom obscures his essence, there is a sense of mystery and foreboding that attends the experience. Also, because the gloom shrouds the destructive potential of a full encounter with God, the deepening gloom can have a fearsome quality to those who deserve judgment (cf. Jer. 13:16). In some of the prophets, the fixed phrase “a day of clouds [ʿanan] and gloom [ʿarapel]” represents Yahweh’s coming judgment (Ps. 97:2; Ezek. 34:12; Joel 2:1–2; Zeph. 1:15–17).43
On the other hand—and in this context perhaps more important—this darkness has the effect of protecting sinful humans from the destructive consequences of the glory of God. It is a gracious act for God to come so close to humans without injuring them. Notice how Psalm 18 juxtaposes Yahweh’s covering himself with darkness (18:11) and the brightness that breaks through the clouds before him (18:12). Even in the threatening gloom, the brightness of God’s essential being is not completely obscured. In his coming, all is not darkness and obscurity, but his glory shines through to offer glimpses of his character and hope for deliverance.
I remember experiencing several near complete solar eclipses. As the disk of the moon began to obscure the sun, natural light began to fade into a murky dusk. Shadows on the ground rippled and quavered. Eventually only the corona of the sun could be seen around the edges of the disk. Yet it could not completely subdue the sun’s brightness, which continued to break out at the edges so that an observer had to take care to watch the whole process indirectly or through a special coated glass to avoid getting one’s eyes burned.
Similarly, the darkness that shrouds Yahweh only serves to emphasize the brilliance of the radiance cloaked within. No one is left wondering whether God is present or not or what his true nature might be. As John says of Jesus, “In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not [overcome it]. . . . The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world” (John 1:4–5, 9).44
The God who responds. The central part of Psalm 18 (vv. 20–29) embodies the psalmist’s confidence that Yahweh will respond with deliverance. These verses make clear Israel’s understanding that Yahweh was a God who shaped his interaction with humans to their needs and character. Yahweh was not a “one-size-fits-all” kind of God but one who allowed his own people to influence how their relationship with God worked itself out.
For Israel Yahweh was not static, fixed, or predictable. This does not mean that God was constantly changing, but it does mean he revealed himself to be neither capricious nor whimsical. His essential core is stable: Yahweh is “holy.” As I have indicated elsewhere,45 Israel understood this essential character of God to hold in tension two inseparable components. God is at once and always incompatible with evil, yet relentlessly good. Nevertheless, human experience of God is varied and changing. For example, it took Israel several centuries to win her way from polytheism (belief in many gods who demand my allegiance) through henotheism (belief that many gods exist but only one demands my allegiance) to true monotheism (belief that only one God exists and demands my allegiance). Along the way Israel’s experience of God was constantly growing.
In 18:20–29, the psalmist declares an obvious reciprocity between the way we relate ourselves to God and the way he in return responds to us. This is first marked out by the inclusio that frames the first four verses of this section. “The LORD has dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands . . .” (18:20). God responds appropriately to human character—in this case responding to the psalmist’s righteousness with deliverance.
This initial affirmation is borne out in the continuing verses. Yahweh responds faithfully to the faithful, shows blamelessness to the blameless, and manifests purity to the pure. Character anticipates a balanced divine response. The crooked, however, find God to be shrewd, and the proud find themselves humbled by God.
This sort of reciprocal relationship between human character and divine response is sometimes called retribution—a type of understanding commonly associated with many of the proverbs. “The eyes of the LORD are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good” (Prov. 15:3). “Whoever gives heed to instruction prospers, and blessed is he who trusts in the LORD” (16:20). “The LORD detests the thoughts of the wicked, but those of the pure are pleasing to him” (15:26). “The LORD is far from the wicked, but he hears the prayer of the righteous” (15:29; cf. 10:27; 11:4, 8, 19–20.)
Against any sort of slavish cause-and-effect understanding—such as promulgated by “prosperity preachers” of our current context—Job and Ecclesiastes (and even some of Proverbs) offer full and effective defense. Job demonstrates decisively that righteousness is no assurance of prosperity or even good health or reputation. Ecclesiastes concurs: “There is something else meaningless that occurs on earth: righteous men who get what the wicked deserve, and wicked men who get what the righteous deserve. This too, I say, is meaningless” (Eccl. 8:14).
The ultimate conclusion of these wisdom works is that wisdom and righteousness are the only way of life, even if they do not lead to prosperity. Job finds God worth holding on to even in the midst of his painful suffering and loss (Job 42:1–6). Ecclesiastes concludes that in the end, the whole duty of humanity is to “fear God and keep his commandments” (Eccl. 12:13). And even the Proverbs distinguish between the benefit of righteousness and the passing blessings of wealth and security: “Better a little with the fear of the LORD than great wealth with turmoil” (Prov. 15:16); “better a little with righteousness than much gain with injustice” (16:8).
Contemporary Significance
FACING THE QUAKES. Growing up in southeast Texas, I had a lot of experience of hurricanes and floods but none of earthquakes. While attending Fuller Seminary in Pasadena, California, however, I had the disconcerting experience of surviving the 1971 earthquake in Los Angeles—a major one and my first. I remember awaking in the early dawn unaware of what had wakened me. I was impressed by an absolute silence. Then the quiet was shattered by a loud chorus of barking dogs near and far, and almost immediately the first rolling wave of the earthquake began to shake our apartment.
I immediately knew—no questions asked—that this was an earthquake. I sprang from the bed and the first thought in my mind was to save the two tall dresser mirrors that I had delayed for some months attaching to the walls. As I leapt about in pursuit of my rescue task, the room tottered and shook. I could hear things crashing and banging in the other rooms. Then the mirrors toppled off the dresser and one smashed against my knee as they fell to the floor.
Almost as soon as it began, the quake was over (although those few seconds seemed like an eternity to me), and the apartment settled back down into an uneasy quiet—except for the continued barking of dogs. I discovered my wife—a fifth-generation native Californian, mind you—standing appropriately in the doorway of our bedroom with a look composed of a little fear and a lot of amusement at my frantic antics, now that the danger had passed.
During the next few days we cleaned up our apartment, where the contents of shelves had been emptied on the floor and even the eggs in the door of the refrigerator had all been cracked by the fierce shaking. I particularly remember the momentary panic that attended each aftershock that came over the next few weeks. I certainly can relate to the psalmist’s description of the trembling and quaking of the earth down to the foundations of the mountains.
While I do think it is important for our contemporary culture to understand that God is our helper and friend, I also think something essential is lost when we never experience the shock of God’s holy presence as did Moses (Ex. 3:1–6), Jacob (Gen. 28:10–22), Isaiah (Isa. 6:1–9), and Paul (Acts 9:1–19). God is, of course, a friend who loves and comforts us, but he is also the holy God, who knocks our socks off and shakes us to our very foundations. We need to experience God as both if we are to keep our faith in the right perspective.
The fearsome display of theophany warns us not to place too much confidence in our seemingly secure environment. God is not the world and at best has only an uneasy relationship with the world. Ultimately, the world as we know it must be done away with and renewed in order to make way for “a new heaven and a new earth” (Rev. 21:1), which will allow humans and God to coexist together forever.46
According to my righteousness. The psalmist (18:20–24) expects to be treated by God in accord with his righteousness. Such a claim may make many of us uncomfortable, who understand with Paul that “there is no one righteous, not even one” (Rom. 3:10). Several Old Testament writers affirm similar convictions: “No one living is righteous before you” (Ps. 143:2); “there is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sins” (Eccl. 7:20).
In this context it seems clear that our psalmist’s claim of righteousness is no pretension of absolute sinlessness but is instead a claim of having assumed the appropriate attitude of “fear of Yahweh.” Those who fear God know that they are ultimately dependent on his gracious mercy for life and continued preservation. Truly relying on God in this way is taking the path of Yahweh—a way that leads to life. This kind of reliance on God is the Old Testament equivalent of faith in the righteousness that comes from God (Rom. 4:6–25).
Our righteousness counts for something. It may not pay off in wealth and pleasure. We may not achieve all our goals, satisfy our desires, or rise to great influence and power. But the blessing of God’s presence in our lives is in direct proportion to our acknowledgment of absolute dependence on him. God does deliver the righteous—although not always from their troubles, always to renewed experience of the joy of his indwelling spiritual presence. As Job and the Proverbs attest, that is the better way, the way of life.
He makes my way perfect. Related to the psalmist’s confession that God responds “according to my righteousness” (18:20–24) is the further admission that it is Yahweh and not the psalmist who “makes my way perfect.” (18:32b). The psalmist does not claim sinless perfection, but he relies on Yahweh’s gracious provision. In the commentary I indicated that this phrase, linked with the following verse, suggests nimble surefootedness. However, the connection with Yahweh’s “perfect way” and “flawless word” in 18:30 implies that much more is at stake here than simply secure footing. It implies that for those who trust and rely on the equipping power of Yahweh to confront and defeat the powers that oppose them, Yahweh makes their path a “blameless” way that mirrors the path of God himself.
That is the gospel message unleashed in an Old Testament idiom! What we cannot do for ourselves—make our path perfect—God can and will do for us. Faith, trust, commitment, and reliance can turn our fumbling steps into a “way” to the fulfillment of God’s purposes for us.