This article is part of Stephen Paulson’s series on the Psalms.
King David was in a terrible predicament when he wrote Psalm 3: "Many are rising against me!" He had just fled from Absalom—his handsome and hateful son. Luther surmised David could never have penned this song in the throes of such despair; he must have written it years later, since who could transcribe the words of the Holy Spirit in such duress? The key to the Psalm, however, is not David's feelings of betrayal or even the treachery of Absalom—it is that David's God not only allowed it all to happen but made it so. Why would God do it? Why would God throw David to the dogs and cover him with many foes? David thought Absolom hung the moon, but his son was really a monster, skulking at the city gate, recruiting disgruntled men with fake promises that he would listen to their complaints. Then Absalom concocted his own fake religious act by claiming that he had "vowed" to pay an offering of sacrifice to God in the town of Hebron—and so slipped out from his father's watchful eye and staged a coup (2 Samuel 14:12).
Yet all of this is preliminary to our Psalm that is not concerned with a son's betrayal of his father, or even overthrowing the crown—the issue is the difference between unfaith and faith. How can David trust the God who allowed this to happen to him? Indeed, King David is so important to us even now, not because he was a famous father or a king, but because he was the unworthy recipient of a promise from God—and what a promise it was! David was not only promised an eternal throne but that his seed, from his own loins, would be established on that throne as ruler of a new, eternal kingdom: "Your house will be sure forever, your throne will be established forever" (2 Sam. 7:12-17). That famous word, spoken from the mouth of Nathan in the middle of David's great sin, was most assuredly not what modern "evangelical" teachers have called a "covenant" with David. It was a promise—a New Testament—that depended entirely on God's trustworthiness. What if David is unworthy? What if David himself is unfaithful to this promise? Never mind! God is faithful. He is just, and his justice is unlike any that we know. In fact, God's justice is unlike any legal justice we know.
Indeed, King David is so important to us even now, not because he was a famous father or a king, but because he was the unworthy recipient of a promise from God—and what a promise it was!
So it is that Psalm 3 does not demonstrate the validity of a "covenant exchange" but rather shows us the veracity of God's unwavering promise. God's promise is stretched and challenged in the middle of a coup-d'etat orchestrated by the son David—the very son that David believed to be his true "Seed" so that David was forced to ask: could God turn his back on me, his chosen Messiah? Could he forget his promise? If so, then David could have no faith at all. He would never be given total assurance. Yet, if that were the case, there would not only be no faith, there would be no God at all. There would only be human sin piled one upon another and perpetual betrayal like the night David ran from Jerusalem and his son took over the throne: "The hearts of the men of Israel have gone after Absalom!" (2 Samuel 15:6) Fickle! Subversive politics! Unfaithful citizens! Absalom stole the hearts of Israel! Where is God in all of this?
1 O Lord, how many are my foes! Many are rising against me!
Nevertheless, in his time of trouble, who else does David have to turn to besides his God? He called out to the Lord to look upon him in his desolation: "Are you there, God? Do you see how many enemies I have? Do you notice my foes rising against me and conquering?"
2 Many there are saying to my soul, there is no salvation for him in God! Selah!
David knew it was not only his own lordship on the line, but also God's: "Are you unable to see that this attack is not against me as a father and king, but on you, Lord? You are known by no other attribute than faithfulness to your promise! Nothing else matters for you, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. If you ignore me, you will surely be ridiculed by the whole world. They think it is easy to overthrow you and put anyone they choose on the throne—as if they run things. What would stop them from putting my traitorous son Absalom on the throne and treating you like no god at all? The very same spite was thrown at Christ hanging on the cross: 'He trusted in God, let him deliver him now—if he will have him!'" (Luke 23:35). David is crying out: "Betrayal is not the worst thing an enemy can do—even if that enemy is your own son. Stripping away a man's faith is the worst thing a man can do to you. The world is full of those who look to do exactly that—they hate faith more than anything on earth. Selah! You can say that again!"
Stripping away a man's faith is the worst thing a man can do to you.
3 But you, O Lord, are a shield about me; my glory, and the lifter of my head.
Yet David knows there is no other God to speak to; there is no other Saver. David has nowhere else to go. This God alone, who made his promise to David, is in fact, a shield against enemies and a "lifter of my head" that would otherwise be hung in shame and defeat. David knows that only God is a head-lifter! Only he can address what he has set in motion against me! When a man makes this turn to his head-lifting God in his prayer—he is not only desperate but has husked the corn down to the cob where nothing remains but faith. Courage and virtues (and all such glories) have fled. At that moment, we see what faith is made of—and precisely what that faith is in. What else could David do but behold his own faith? So, he turned to God at precisely the most challenging moment in his life when his own God not only forgot him but contradicted his own self. God not only let Absalom accomplish his evil deeds but orchestrated them—how much harder can it be to pray to the very God who did that to David?
Yet, David does address his God—and refuses to use pablum or fake praise like the rest of the world uses with its fake "gods." He scolds God and reminds him who he is. In the middle of God's contrariness, David demands that God act like God: "I know who you are! I know that you are not only shield-like or a 'glory monger' but that you are my very own shield, my own glory, and the lifter of my very own head. You have not forgotten me or left me to the dogs because you cannot! You have strapped your Godhead to your promise and cannot relent! Absalom orchestrated the whole uprising—with your approval—and yet it is not Absalom whom you must shield and lift, but me—your chosen David.
4 I cried aloud to Yahweh, and he answered me from his holy hill.
Then, David was willing to stop in the middle of his anguished appeal to his only Lord and Savior and give the rest of us an historical summary of the scene in the third person: "There I was! As good as dead! I cried out to Yahweh—the source of my trouble, and yet, he answered me! All the way back in Jerusalem—from his holy hill!" It was not David, after all, that made Jerusalem into God's holy place—nor was it David who built God a temple on Zion; it was God who did all for David, despite David making a fool of himself dancing in his underwear as the ark of the Covenant was brought to this hill. It was God all along who had made the city and the hill (and David himself, for that matter) into the places where God promised to be.
5 I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the Lord sustained me.
From as early as Origen, and especially with the great theologian Augustine, no one could read these words from David without thinking of Jesus Christ himself—the true Seed of David. It was Jesus who would lay himself down on the cross, sleep in the devil's hell, and be awakened by God on the third day. Jesus is the only true "woke" that the world has ever had. Yet God took David through the same salvation that Christ would have, which does not leap over death but goes straight through it. David is not just surrendering to God here but is aware that there is only salvation from the dead—not from this or that little predicament in life.
When you call upon God to save, he saves all the way—from sleep to woke, from death to new life. David does not recount that he was "sustained" in the trivial sense as when God fed the hungry Elijah or even fed Israel in the wilderness. David called upon God to resurrect him: "Give me life while I am dead in sin." David does not appeal for God to give him his just deserts or even to be merciful to him by temporarily suspending the accusation of the law. David is saying: "It is I Lord! I lay down with nothing! I give up! I have nothing and am nothing. If I am to be woke—to be justified–it must be by faith alone without any merit, power, life, or sacrifice of my own." And look! God remained faithful to his promise to David, even while David was a sinner.
When you call upon God to save, he saves all the way—from sleep to woke, from death to new life.
6 I will not be afraid of many thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around
"Not afraid of death" means faith in Christ. He is the Seed that David was promised would come from his own loins. Resurrection from the dead is a new life that has no fear of any enemy—no matter the "many thousands arrayed against me." My enemies, though many, are nothing to me. They cannot harm me. They are without any power.
7 Arise, O Lord! Save me, O my God!
David finally has the audacity to tell God to arise! David commands God to move, to act, and no longer wait––as if God is asleep at the wheel. The reason David has this assurance before the face of God is that he not only knows that his God is God but that he is the God of the promise that saves. That promise works not just "here and there," or wherever it may please God, but "here, now, with me—because you are my God." Faith knows which God is God. More importantly, faith knows that this God is my God who does one thing for me: he saves me. He is a Saver. Having a Saver-God, however, means that he not only allows trouble, but he does so for the single purpose of destroying that same trouble for me. David now confesses, "Everything he does, including letting my son Absolom overtake me, is finally done for me, who is your servant David, O Lord." Even Absalom hanging by the neck is a result of God being David's Savior. He is saving David by it.
8 Salvation belongs to the Lord; your blessing be on your people!
David knows one more thing: not only is God, God, and his very own saver, but God does all of this to magnify his own promise. That promise belongs not only to David but also to God's chosen people, Israel, "Your blessing be on your people!" God does his saving for David, and at the same time, God is saving his whole, chosen people with the blessing of David's loins. When David is first laid to sleep, and then awakened, he is given faith in God's promise. The "blessing" is always the sperma of David's loins—even though it was not the sperma of the evil Absalom.
Not every seed from David is a saver. David did not know his name yet, but we know that the promised seed is Jesus Christ, who found a way to save even Gentile sinners (Gal. 2:15) because his salvation is not by law but by his pure promise of the forgiveness of sin. Just so, God took David by the scruff of the collar and made faith in him when David had lost his own trust. "My God," first was a cry of anger and desperation: "Why would you let this happen to me?" Then "My God," became faith within this third Psalm. Awakened from sleep, David could say without any doubt: "Salvation belongs to you...so save me, O my God!" Truly, salvation belongs to the Lord, and he is even now blessing you with it as his own people—on account of David's faith that was made this day.