The superscription says the psalm is To the leader. The “leader” is the director of music. A Maskil of David. “Maskil” appears in several psalms, including 52–55; it may mean a contemplative song or poem intended to provide insight or wisdom. The superscription further identifies the psalm as when Doeg the Edomite came to Saul and said to him, “David has come to the house of Ahimelech.” The reference is to the historical interaction between David and Doeg the Edomite (cf. I Samuel 21–22, especially 21:7; 22:9-10, 18-22). David had fled the murderous threats of King Saul and had received holy food and Goliath’s sword from the priest Ahimelech at the tabernacle in Nob. Doeg, “the chief of Saul’s shepherds,” was there and later snitched on David to Saul, who ordered Doeg to execute Ahimelech and several other priests and their families for aiding David’s escape. In the meantime, David had gathered a roving band of 400 soldiers (I Samuel 22:1-2). David’s contemplations on the run from Saul were highly significant to him, as evidenced in the superscriptions of several psalms (see e.g., Psalms 54, 56, 57, 59, 142). The nation of Edom, located southeast of the Dead Sea, had a close relation to Israel because Edom traced its ancestry to Esau, Jacob’s (a.k.a. Israel’s) twin brother (see Genesis 25:30; 32:3; 36:1 ff.). Israel often despised Edomites, as by the biblical prophet Obadiah and in Ezekiel 25:12-14. In later years, the Edomites moved west, their territory in New Testament times known Idumea; King Herod the Great was an Idumean. Not all the wounded fulminations in Psalm 52 link up with what Doeg did to him. Nevertheless, some do, especially those relating to betrayal, if the psalm assumes a previous trust relationship or close camaraderie between the two men. Both David and Doeg had been in King Saul’s service, before David fled. The primary loyalty of Doeg was obviously to Saul. In Psalm 52, the author could well be taking off on Doeg as an example; thus, even with the historical referent, one could still interpret the psalm more broadly.
Psalm 52: 1-4 is a prophetic rebuke. It attacks the deceitful and destructive activities of someone who was powerful, so much so that the author may have had something to lose. Something had put into question trust in God. This person is boastful and successful. The emphasis is on damaging speech of the adversary 1 Why do you boast, O mighty one (or brave one), the first description of his nemesis, of mischief done against the godly? All day long2 you are plotting destruction. Your tongue is like a sharp razor, you worker of treachery (or deceit, remiyyah[2]). 3 You love evil more than good, and lying more than speaking the truth, further describing his nemesis. Selah, an obscure term that gives instructions to the psalm-singers, indicates a pause, or calls for an instrumental interlude. 4 You love all words that devour, O deceitful tongue (mirmah[3], deceitful or treacherous speech). All through human history, many good persons have felt “sorely undone” by people who deceitfully speak about them, as malevolent snitches, or who deliberately utter slanderous falsehoods, or who engage in malicious or careless gossip or who spew face-to-face meanness. See several other psalms: 10:7; 15 (all); 17:1-3; 24:3-5; 34:11-22; 39:1; 50:19-23; 64 (all); 109:1-5; 140 (all). Also Proverbs 11:11-13; 12:18-22; 15:4; Isaiah 59:3; Jeremiah 9:3-9; Micah 6:10-13; Romans 1:29-32; 2 Corinthians 12:20; 1 Timothy 5:13; James 3 (all); 1 Peter 3:10-12.
The psalms have much poetry directed toward the tongue. It is an underrated organ of the human body. Just think of what the tongue can do. It is more flexible than any other part of the body. It can enlarge, it can contract, it can twist itself into any number of shapes. The tongue is essential to the digestive system. When we eat, it churns food around in our mouths, coating it with saliva. Then, when we swallow, it pushes the food on its way down the throat to the stomach. The tongue is also home to our taste buds. It tells our brains whether food is sweet, sour, salty, bitter, or that complex taste known as umami. The tongue is an early warning system, helping us avoid foods that are harmful and leading us toward foods that foster health. The tongue resembles a muscle in many ways. It is composed of muscle tissue, but it doesn’t function like any other muscle in the body. It is not anchored to bone by ligaments, like the muscles that move the skeletal system. The tongue moves freely on its own. Anatomy teachers call the tongue a “muscular hydrostat.” It is closer to an elephant’s trunk, an octopus’ tentacle, or the powerful so-called “foot” of a snail than to any other part of the human body.
Apart from its essential role in the digestive system, the tongue has another, completely different purpose. It is our principal organ of speech. There are no fewer than 44 distinct sounds in the English language — linguistics scholars call them phonemes — and the tongue has a role in producing nearly every one. The tongue shapes the air we exhale into words, repositioning itself with each syllable at various locations within the mouth. Those who have the misfortune of losing their tongues — or even a portion of them — are rendered incapable of speech.
The ancients knew how important the tongue is. We can see it in Psalm 52. But there is no celebration of the tongue’s marvelous capabilities here. To this ancient singer, the tongue is a curse. The tongue is a deadly weapon, “a sharp razor.”
It is easy to dismiss any remark — our own or another’s — as “just words.” But words are of tremendous importance because of all the ways they function to strengthen the social fabric connecting individuals and communities. The most significant and upbuilding words are those that are fundamentally just — that reflect divine justice. Sometimes we zero in on and condemn certain words that seem superficially offensive: cuss words, they are sometimes called. It is significant that such “four-letter words” — and we all know what they are — are called that. “Cuss” really means “curse,” and in ancient times, a curse could be deployed as a deadly weapon.
Shakespeare’s plays contain curses far more colorful — and dangerous — than the casual four-letter words that spill from people’s mouths these days. In Richard III, while viewing the corpse of King Henry VI, Lady Anne says of his murderer, Gloucester:
“O! cursed be the hand that made these holes;
Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it!
Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!
More direful hap betide that hated wretch,
That makes us wretched by the death of thee,
Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,
Or any creeping venom’d thing that lives!
If ever he have child, abortive be it,
Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,
Whose ugly and unnatural aspect
May fright the hopeful mother at the view;
And that be heir to his unhappiness!
If ever he have wife, let her be made
More miserable by the death of him
Than I am made by my young lord and thee!”
(Richard III, 1.2.16-30)
Now, that is a curse! Ironically, that curse is an example of “just words” because, in uttering it, Lady Anne is protesting a terrible injustice.
Psalm 52: 5 is a threat of future punishment by breaking down and uprooting his adversary. Everlasting destruction threatens the sinner. The author continues to speak directly to his adversary, with a trifold barrage of words. 5 But God will break you down forever; he will snatch and tear you from your tent, contrasting with the righteous living in the house of God in verse 10; he will uproot you from the land of the living, contrasting with the psalmist thriving like an olive tree in verse 10. Selah Such words and actions have consequences in causing harm to the one attacked and consequences for the person perpetrating evil against God’s righteous ones. God will harshly judge the treacherous person(s). Anyone who has been at the receiving end of false or malevolent attack can identify with such words. Even so, the author does not take personal vengeance; nor is this psalm a prayer of imprecation (though the sentiments are close).
Psalm 52: 6-7 notes the impression the punishment of the sinners produces upon the righteous. The adversary becomes an object of ridicule. The author breaks away from speaking to his maligner to making jeering comments about him. 6 The righteous (plural) will see (the judgments God has poured out), and fear (the consequences of engaging in similar behavior, as in Psalm 64:6-10), and will mockingly laugh at the evildoer, saying, 7 “See the one who would not take refuge in God, but trusted in abundant riches, and sought refuge in wealth!”[4] The righteous both fear the God who judges and have joy in the victory of the righteous. Thus, the author continues his taunt, saying in so many words: “Here’s the one who didn’t make God his protective fortress, but trusted instead in his great wealth.” Similarly see Jesus’ contrast in Matthew 6:24 ff. between serving/trusting God vis-à-vis wealth/mammon (KJV).
Psalm 52: 8-9 are an affirmation of trust and a vow of thanksgiving. The author contrasts his own behavior (and its consequences), his rootedness God, to that of the arrogant self-sufficiency of his condemned opponent. 8 But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God (temple). Olive trees were of significance for the oil they produced and were used in the Temple. This may suggest the poet was an official in the Temple or at least a lay Israelite who wants to enjoy nearness to God at the temple. Therefore, his outcome is good. This may suggest the author is a priest. I trust in the steadfast love (hésed) of God forever and ever. In the only actual prayer of the psalm, the author says, 9 I will thank (offer thankful praise to) you forever, because of what you have done. In the presence of the faithful (hasidim, related etymologically to hésed, “confidently hope in) I will proclaim your name, for it is good. The psalmist has a saving strength grounded in a relationship with God. The adversary is due for death, while the psalmist is full of life. The psalmist seeks ultimate refuge in God, where the psalmist finds true life and happiness. The psalmist feels humble and grateful, contrasting his personal fate with that of the adversary. The psalmist will offer testimony to the congregation. For similar wisdom-like contrasts between the righteous and the wicked, in terms of behavior and outcome, see Psalms 1, 37 and 92:9-15.
How are Christian people to use Psalm 52? We can judiciously speak it aloud to help us give voice to the hurts of our damaged souls when people unjustly attack us. Moreover, we can also use it to let God remind us that both how we live in relationship to others and what or whom we trust has serious ongoing consequences; we place ourselves in God’s capable hands.
I would like to explore the human heart. Here is what I imagine. Doeg is a human being. How does he get himself into the place where he becomes one who loves evil more than good, lying more than truth? Was it his powerful position? Did his influence upon the king go to this head? My guess is that in the situation of the battle between David and Saul, Doeg convinced himself that his defense of Saul was righteous. He was doing a good and honorable thing.
I do not want to reduce the problems humanity faces to the heart. Yet, we must not neglect the importance of transformed hearts. Racism, poverty, and war are social, political, and economic issues, to be sure. However, we will need changed hearts to face them honestly.
One the one hand, so many of us do not want to take the time to acquaint ourselves with our own hearts. Here is a story. The master became a legend in his lifetime. It was said that God once sought his advice. “I want to play a game of hide-and-seek with humankind. I have asked my angels what the best place is to hide in. Some say the depths of the ocean. Others the top of the highest mountain. Others still the far side of the moon or a distant star. What do you suggest?” Said the master, “Hide in the human heart. That is the last place they will think of!”[5]
On the other hand, we are to love God with all our hearts. We ask God to search our hearts. Our hearts break. In an old Hasidic tale, a pupil comes to the rebbe and asks, “Why does Torah tell us to ‘place these words upon your hearts’? Why does it not tell us to place these holy words in our hearts?” The rebbe answers, “It is because as we are, our hearts are closed, and we cannot place the holy words in our hearts. Therefore, we place them on top of our hearts. And there they stay until, one day, the heart breaks and the words fall in.”
Our hearts have been broken more than once, and here again today our hearts break open, and the holy words of faith, hope and love fall in. The psalmist writes, “A broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” When our hearts break, God does spiritual open-heart surgery on us, slowly healing our hearts and opening us to feel the suffering of others. Only broken hearts grow tender and gentle. Aeschylus wrote, “In our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”[6]
[1] The English verses differs from the Hebrew, largely because of textual uncertainties toward the beginning of the psalm. The end of verse 1 in Hebrew has something such as “The hésed [steadfast love/faithfulness/kindness] of God [is] all the day [long].” KJV, NLT, NET, New American Standard and Tanakh translate this Hebrew wording. The NIV differs from this, as does the NRSV, which relies on an ancient Syriac translation to emend the puzzling Hebrew text. In his dismay over what has befallen him, with fiery anger, directly addresses his betrayer, the one whom he had formerly trusted.
[2] The Hebrew root (or possibly roots) mean(s) betrayal/treachery/faithlessness or fraud/deceitfulness (as in deceiving or misleading someone).
[3] The Hebrew root (or possibly roots) mean(s) betrayal/treachery/faithlessness or fraud/deceitfulness (as in deceiving or misleading someone).
[4] This behavior is accompanied by a desire to destroy others (the obscure Hebrew text for this is not reflected in the NRSV).
[5] —Anthony DeMello.
[6] — Robert Raines, “We do not lose heart,” Yale class of 1950 55th reunion, sermon. http://www2.aya.yale.edu/classes/yc1950/reunion2005_sermon.html.
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