Secure in the Love of God | Psalm 52
Introduction
Trust is the foundation of all society. It is the equity and capital that exists between all people everywhere. Do I trust that people are who they say they are? Is this business, this neighbor, this facebook marketplace seller what they claim to be? Trust is the lifeblood of a stable and non-anxious system—without trust, relationships, business, and entire nations are brittle and fall apart.
How trusting of a person are you? How much do you trust your neighbor? How much do you trust your employer? How much do you trust friends to have your back when times are tough? And what if your answers to those questions are, “not very much?” You are likely always on your toes, always looking over your shoulder, always suspicious.
It’s not hard to see that today, in 2024, we are less trusting than we used to be, and certainly less trusting than our parents or grandparents were. One author, commenting on the decay of liberty and trust in our society, said that you can gauge the health, freedom, and trustworthiness of our culture based on how you answer the question, “How far from your home are you willing to let your kids play?” That’s a provoking question.
So why have we lost trust in our basic institutions and our neighbors? Why don’t I let our kids roam the neighborhood freely? Skepticism has increased as trust has decreased, and our online world has only made this more pronounced. Maybe you’re familiar with the term “catfish”—a term given to people who create fake online profiles in order to trick, scam, or even harass unsuspecting and trusting people. This can take place in the business world, the marketplace, and even in the dating world. And as more and more of our lives are lived in the online world, that is where the wicked seek to explode the trusting.
We’ve all gotten those emails saying your bill is due, and to avoid any late fees, please pay online ASAP. Or emails that say, “you’ve won!! Please click this link to claim your reward!” Some are obvious, but some are tremendously sneaky. In 2019, in Oklahoma, catfishers looted an average of $70,288 from each victim! In 2020, 41% of adults online reported being victims of catfishing, with the worldwide average costing over $600M! We have become skeptical online and with good reason.
Trust has also eroded in our basic institutions like the media and our government. Having been lied to by our elites over and over again, we no longer trust official reports or headlines. Legacy media outlets have embarrassed themselves time and time. And that skepticism trickles down to person-to-person relationships. With the rise of AI, I don’t even trust my student’s work anymore.
And because of the reality of sin, our skepticism can easily be confirmed. People fail us. People lie to us. People don’t do what they say they will do. People turn on us. People sin against us. People can really do evil things that can have dramatically destructive results—and when that happens, we are tempted to bitterness and cynicism.
So in our fragile, skeptical, and tense age, what we need is clarity. What we need is hope. What we need is a constant, steady, sure footing. We need a ballast that keeps us steady, no matter the chaotic circumstances. When falsehood and betrayal are the vernacular, we need straight truth and justice. Deceit begets fragility. Truth begets security.
It is in Psalm 52 that we receive such a truth. Through this psalm, Christians can cultivate unwavering trust in God's watchful care and protective embrace, especially in times of vulnerability when surrounded by formidable and merciless adversaries. Adversaries who are not what they seem. They are deceptive, claiming to be good and wise, but are plotting and raging against God and his people.
One of the incredible benefits of the psalms is that it gives us a window into the inner life of the OT saints. It gives us a view, a narrative that the histories of Israel can not give us. When you read of David in 1 Samuel, he’s a powerful and compelling character going through extraordinarily dramatic events, but you can’t help but ask, “what is going on in his head?” After slaying the giant Goliath, we know what happened to him, but how was he feeling? We know the judgment he faced after his sin with Bathsheba and against Uriah, but how went his soul in the midst of such guilt and grief? And when he is betrayed by a mid-level but awfully ambitious and sinister official of Saul’s court, how does he respond in his heart? Psalm 52 gives us such a view.
Psalm 52 is one of a handful of psalms where we know not only who wrote the psalm, but also the context which prompted the song. Psalm 52 is not a psalm of lament nor a psalm calling down curses on the enemies of God, but rather a song of prophetic confidence. Despite the tremendously grievous occasion that provoked and prompted David to write this Psalm, it is addressed to evil-doers, warning them of the reality of their sin, and that it will not go unpunished. Like all oracles of judgment, it rebukes the unfaithful in order to encourage the faithful. It responds to the wickedness of man by appealing to the justice and goodness and steadfastness of the Lord.
David structures this song in 3 stanzas: the betrayal, the judgment, and the resolve. And he weaves those stanzas to declare a simple truth to himself and, by God’s Spirit, to you and to me… No matter the circumstance, our God is steadfast and faithful.
That is the banner and the anthem that David sings to his weary soul. And as it strengthened and edified his soul, it can do the same to us this morning.
The Betrayal
The first stanza of Psalm 52 conveys a clear tone of accusation. Each of the 4 lines begin with the second person singular, “you.” “You boast of evil”, “your tongue plans destruction”, “you love evil”, “you love all words that devour.” Who is this “you”? Who is David taking aim at?
In the inspired title of the psalm, we are given this setting to the psalm…
To the choirmaster. A maskil of David, when Doeg, the Edomite, came and told Saul, “David has come to the House of Ahimelech.”
—Title of Psalm 52
The context of this psalm is vital. The story which explains the background to this psalm can be found in 1 Samuel 20–22. We won’t read it all here for time's sake, and I encourage you to read these 2 chapters some time in their entirety, but let me summarize the context quickly.
The Lord had rejected Saul as king and had chosen David as the next anointed sovereign. David had risen to fame and notoriety for slaying the giant Goliath and had found his place in Saul’s court and married his daughter. Saul, you’ll recall, became violently jealous of David’s popularity and plotted to kill him. David, after being warned by his dear friend and the heir to the throne Jonathan, took flight into the wilderness toward Palestine.
The first place he and his small merry band come to while on the run is the tiny, priest town of Nob, where the priest Ahimelech meets them and asks them what their business is. David, under the guise that he is on a king’s errand, asks for provisions, and Ahimelech gives them holy bread, the Bread of Presence, because there was no other bread available. David also asks for weapons, and the only weapon available is the sword of Goliath—one that David was familiar with having used that same sword to cut off the head of that giant. Having been supplied, he flees for safety.
In the middle of this resupply, the author of Samuel includes this important and telling interjection.
Now a certain man of the servants of Saul was there that day, detained before the LORD. His name was Doeg the Edomite, the chief of Saul’s herdsman.
—1 Samuel 21:7
There he is. That’s the man. And there’s an ominous air about him, even in how he is introduced. He’s a foreigner, an Edomite—likely a captive from Saul’s victory over Edom in 1 Samuel 14—who is being “detained before the LORD,” clearly against his will, or for some sort of punishment. And the word translated as “chief” in our bibles can also be translated “mighty” or “violent”. Doeg the Edomite, the mighty or violent man of Saul’s herdmans who is detained before the LORD. Something is afoot here.
Some time later, having heard that David and his men had been spotted, the delusional and paranoid Saul complained that everyone was conspiring against him, no one felt bad for him, no one helped him, and just sat and sulked. And it was then, in 1 Samuel 22:9, that the ambitious Doeg made his move.
Then answered Doeg the Edomite, who stood by the servants of Saul, “I saw the son of Jesse coming to Nob, to Ahimelech the son of Ahitub, and he inquired of the LORD for him and gave him provisions and gave him the sword of Goliath the Philistine.”
—1 Samuel 22:9
Clearly, Doeg saw a window of opportunity to rise in the ranks of Saul’s servants. No one else had spoken up, but he would. He saw his chance to go from a detained foreigner to an exalted and trusted official, and he took it. But the result of this move is deadly.
Saul’s company goes to Nob and calls for Ahimelech, and he demands answers for why he harbored a fugitive. And Ahimelech appealed to Saul that David was Saul’s most faithful servant, so of course he helped him! Saul’s response…
And the king said, “You shall surely die, Ahimelech, you and all your father’s house.”
—1 Samuel 22:16
None of Saul’s men would execute the wicked and unjust act against the priests of the LORD. So Saul commanded Doeg to do it—to which he immediately obeyed. 85 priests were slaughtered by Doeg’s sword, and then he turned and annihilated the entire community, massacring all the living—men, women, children, and even livestock. None survived, save one of Ahimelech’s sons who escaped to tell David of what happened. Finally, David’s response is telling…
“I knew on that day, when Doeg the Edomite was there, that he would surely tell Saul. I have occasioned the death of all the persons in your father’s house.”
—1 Samuel 22:22
That incredibly dramatic story is the backdrop to this psalm. It’s almost as if Psalm 52 was David’s journal entry that night after hearing such devastating news. Given the context, the accusatory tone of the open comes into sharper focus. David is reflecting on the kind of man Doeg is—he is a liar, a deceiver, a boastful and haughty man who is attracted to evil and will con his way to the top.
Interestingly, while we know David had Doeg in mind as he wrote of and condemned his evil actions, the fact that he’s never specifically named in the psalm itself is telling. Doeg is a type, a position holder representing all deceitful, conniving, insidious actors who lay low their victims. The “you” in Psalm 52:1–4 includes all who are boastful in their evil, all who by their tongues plot destruction and work deceit, all who love evil more than good and lies more than the truth.
And while the consequences of Doeg’s deceit wasn’t the destruction of David, but rather all the priests and inhabitants of Nob, the focus of these opening verses is on the motivation and means, not the results. The way he describes him is about his sinister and evil motivations and the way in which he acts for his own self-serving. His tongue—a tool, as James said, for good or for evil, for tearing up or for burning down—is as sharp as a razor and deceitful.
Have you ever been treated this way? Most likely you haven’t been the victim of a plot for your life, resulting in the massacre of an entire village, but have you ever been lied to? Have you ever been lied to, or misled, or steered, or manipulated so that the one doing it could gain some advantage? Have you ever sat there and thought, “What kind of person would treat other people this way?” David can relate with you. David can relate with the frustration and the hurt and the anger. He can relate with the temptation to bitterness, the feeling of injustice, the appeal for someone to do something about it and because it seems like they’re just going to get away with it.
And when people deceive us and manipulate us, our temptation is to become hardened, cynical, untrusting, “burnt”. Like someone who gets scammed or catfished, deciding to never again put their trust in people again. Yet that is not the route David takes. Instead, he appeals to the judge over all.
The Judgment
There is a turn in v. 5. Where stanza 1 was filled with the second singular personal pronoun “you”, stanza 2 begins with “but God” and continues throughout with “he, him, and his.” David does not grumble or complain, he does not take up arms against Doeg and the anointed king Saul, but turns his eyes to heaven where his help comes from and appeals to God.
Calvin commenting on Psalm 52 says this…
David is not to be considered as here venting a flood of reproaches against his adversary, as many who have been unjustly injured are in the habit of doing, merely to gratify a feeling of revenge. He brings these charges against him in the sight of God, with a view to encourage himself in the hopefulness of his own cause: for it is plain that the farther our enemies proceed in the practice of iniquity, they proportionally provoke the anger of the Lord, and are nearer to that destruction which must issue in our deliverance.
—John Calvin
When we’ve experienced some injustice, some manipulation, our immediate reaction is “that’s not fair!” And that’s right and natural. But notice throughout the prosecution, David does not say that the evil-doer has offended him or embarrassed him or broken his law—no, it is the law of God that has been broken. He has lied, coveted, and murdered, and it is God who will repay. Stanza 2 is filled with an array of violent verbs—”break”, “snatch” and “tear”, “uproot you from the land of the living.” And it is God alone who will do it because it is God who has been chiefly offended.
As with many of the psalms, v. 7 reintroduces the righteous to us in stark contrast to the wicked liars and deceivers. David declares that the righteous will see and will fear what the Lord will do, and that the proper response is to laugh at the wicked as they receive their just sentencing. The seeing and the fearing harkens back to Psalm 40:3 where David said…
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.
—Psalm 40:3
And the laughing at the destruction of the wicked echoes of yet another psalm of David in Psalm 2…
Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD and against his Anointed, saying, “Let us burst their bonds apart and cast away their cords from us.” He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision.
—Psalm 2:1–4
This may seem foreign to us as Christians, but the destruction of the wicked is meant to strengthen the faith of God’s people. It is meant to be a source of security, joy, and hope. Like the Israelites witnessing the plagues against the tyrannical Pharoah, we are meant to be awestruck and marvel at the power, and majesty, and righteousness, and justice of God. The wicked seek to prosper, and it can regularly look like they are prospering, but God will not be mocked.
Imagine Doeg after the atrocities he had committed. He had been the only one loyal enough to speak up about David’s location. He was the only one brave enough to strike down Ahimelech and all his household. And he was the only one who had the stomach to take out the entire village of Nob. He will be rewarded. He will be exalted. And he will have what all connivers long for—security. But it is a fleeting and false security. V. 7 makes clear that he has not made God his refuge, but has put his trust in his own abilities, his own craftiness, and ultimately his own destruction.
Remember, this psalm is not an imprecatory psalm. David is not asking God to do these things. Rather, it is a prophetic warning of what will happen to those who deceive and backstab. And like all prophecy, it is meant to warn the wicked and encourage the righteous. What happens to those who act like Doeg? They are broken down, snatched and torn from their tents—their places of security— upended from the land of the living. But that is not so for the righteous. There is nowhere for the wicked to hide. Despite whatever may happen in this life, none will go unpunished. Our God is a just God and treats people fairly. Not equally, but fairly. And that perfect justice of God is good news to you and me. When people betray us, when people lie about us or sin against us in big or small ways, there is a security in knowing that God sees, he knows, and he will act.
A friend of mine from years ago told me that he had been pulled over for speeding in his company car. Because of some law—likely because he was in a company car—he had to appear before a judge. Now, my friend was an honest man, and knew that he had been speeding. He was guilty. He had no excuse. And when I met with him after his court hearing, he was visibly shaken. It wasn’t so much because of the scale of the crime or the penalty—I think it was only a $50 ticket—but because of the feeling he experienced standing before a judge, knowing he was guilty, and was completely at the mercy of the court.
Now, in this fallen world, it is possible for judges and juries to get it wrong—for an innocent man to go to jail or a guilty man to be set free. We hate such injustice because God had such injustice…
He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous are both alike an abomination to the LORD.
—Proverbs 17:15
Doeg and other evil-doers who are in positions of power believe that they will get away with it. But our God never gets it wrong. And that should bring hope to the weary and down-trodden. It brought hope to David in the midst of such tragedy. It brought more than hope. It brought…
The Resolve
Stanza 1 was filled with the accusatory “you”, stanza 2 focused on God and what he will do, but it is in this final stanza that David turns inward and says “But I”. Four times in just as many verses he will mention himself—who he is, what he trusts, and what he will continue to do forever. If righteous anger and prophetic judgment pervaded the first 2 stanzas, the tone of this final verse shifts to the green fields and table feast of Psalm 23 and firmly the planted tree of Psalm 1.
Instead of reacting to the betrayal and injustice with natural impulses, David responds with Spirit-inspired resolve and faith in the Lord. Instead of taking up arms and executing justice against Doeg right there and then, he simply trusts in the Lord.
David describes himself as a green olive tree in v. 8. Olive trees, especially one in full sap or green, are some of the longest-living trees in nature. And this one has been planted in the sanctuary of the house of the Lord where none can tamper with it, protected from any who seek to uproot it.
But what causes him to feel so grounded, so planted, so secure? His security is found in the object of his trust. It is in who he trusts. He has put his trust in the steadfast, unchanging, unending love of God. It is the source of his comfort, the sustainer of his soul in unimaginable circumstances, the balm to his anxious thoughts, the fuel to his thanksgiving, and it is the goodness of God he longs for above all else.
David’s feet have been set on a firm and unshakable rock, one that may not be seen right now, but will be eternal—Doeg has set his hope in the visible, but transient, fleeting opportunities of this world, and he is the one who will be uprooted. This is where the confidence of the psalm takes its place as the majestic central theme in Psalm 52. Despite the horrendous circumstances, David will not stop trusting the Lord.
Remember, David blames himself for the massacre. He knows that if he would’ve spotted the danger of Doeg sooner, or even if he had been captured, all of the priests of Nob and the villagers would still be alive. The guilt must have been tremendous. The shame and anger is unbearable. And yet he resolves to set his confidence not in his own might and his own strength, but in the Lord who has kept him thus far, and trusts will keep him until the end.
You see, David does not know what will be next for him. He does not know what the Lord will ordain for him next. He does not know if Saul will capture him or not. He does not know what disastrous result will come from the next time he seeks refuge from an ally. He does not know if he will make it another day alive.
He does not have the perspective of you and me who know the end of the story. We know that it will all work out. We know that he will return as a triumphant hero, that Saul will meet the fate he deserved, that David will be crowned king. We know that he will bring the ark of the covenant back to Jerusalem. We know that he will be a man after his God’s own heart. But we also know that it won’t be perfect—there will be wonderful peaks and there will be valleys of death—some from his enemies and some from his own sin—that he must walk. But as he pens Psalm 52, all knows is the steadfast love of the Lord that has brought him to that point. And he is resolved that that is enough.
What David relied on is the same thing that you and I must trust no matter the circumstance—the character and sovereignty of God. Even in the midst of horrific circumstances, David knows that the Lord is working all things for his good, and that provides a ballast to his soul. It anchors him so that he can say, “I will wait for your name, for it is good.” In Psalm 52, David acknowledges the wrong that has happened—he doesn’t sweep it under the rug. Wickedness is wickedness, and it ought to be rebuked. He also proclaims the coming and inevitable justice of God, and trusts that the wicked will not prosper and they will get what they deserve.
Do you and I have that same reaction to wickedness? When we think of the wrong that has been done to us, do we respond like David? When close friends betray us or slander us or abandon us, revealing themselves to be someone totally different from the person we knew, what will keep us steady? Only the steadfast love and sovereign grace of God.
There have been some horrific things that have been done in our world and in our country, like the state-sanctioned murder of innocent children in the womb through abortion. It’s wrong, it’s wicked, and it can feel like the evil-doers are triumphing. We ought to name it and rebuke it and take all legal and legislative steps to abolish it—and yet we must trust in the goodness and steadfastness of God. That is how we become like an immovable tree, bearing much fruit in this world.
You and I know David’s story. But you and I know something even more remarkable than how David’s story ends. We know how our story ends. We know how all sin ends. We know how all of history ends. We know this because we know another who was betrayed not by his enemies, but by his closest friends. We know the one who was sold for cash into the hands of his murderers, who abandoned him at the first sign of trouble, and who was nailed to a cross to pay for the sins of his murderers and betrayers. We know this man because we are the ones who have betrayed him. It is our sins that held him there. We are like Doeg—mouths filled with deceit, always plotting, always devouring and destroying, and deserving of the just wrath of God.
But thanks be to God that he did not leave us this way. Thanks be to God that he does not treat us as our sins deserve. We have someone that David could only look forward to—Christ and him crucified. Do you want stability? Do you want security? Do you want to be freed from the anxiety and bitterness that plague you when you have been sinned against? Then look to Christ. It is he who bore the wrath of God in our place. It was Christ who was broken down, snatched and torn from his tent, and uprooted from the land of the living in order that you and I might become a green olive tree planted in the house of God.
Do you trust him? Do you trust that he is good no matter the circumstance? Do you love him? Then, my friends, take refuge in the kindness and love and wisdom of God that he has poured on you in Christ Jesus.