594_Lord, the strength of my salvation (Psalm 140)

Psalm 140 Deliver me, O Lord, from evil men;
preserve me from violent men,
2 who plan evil things in their heart
and stir up wars continually.
3 They make their tongue sharp as a serpent’s,
and under their lips is the venom of asps. Selah

4 Guard me, O Lord, from the hands of the wicked;
preserve me from violent men,
who have planned to trip up my feet.
5 The arrogant have hidden a trap for me,
and with cords they have spread a net;
beside the way they have set snares for me. Selah

6 I say to the Lord, You are my God;
give ear to the voice of my pleas for mercy, O Lord!
7 O Lord, my Lord, the strength of my salvation,
you have covered my head in the day of battle.
8 Grant not, O Lord, the desires of the wicked;
do not further their evil plot, or they will be exalted! Selah

9 As for the head of those who surround me,
let the mischief of their lips overwhelm them!
10 Let burning coals fall upon them!
Let them be cast into fire,
into miry pits, no more to rise!
11 Let not the slanderer be established in the land;
let evil hunt down the violent man speedily!

12 I know that the Lord will maintain the cause of the afflicted,
and will execute justice for the needy.
13 Surely the righteous shall give thanks to your name;
the upright shall dwell in your presence.

There is a story often told of a small coastal town that was battered year after year by fierce storms. The houses closest to the shore were regularly damaged, and many people eventually moved inland. Yet one house remained standing, season after season, seemingly untouched by the fury of wind and waves. When asked how his house endured when others fell, the owner replied simply, “I didn’t build it to look strong. I built it to survive storms.” He had anchored the foundation deep into bedrock, invisible to the eye but immovable when the storm came. Strength, he explained, is proven not in calm weather but in crisis.

Psalm 140 is written from the middle of a storm. It is not a calm reflection from a place of safety but an urgent prayer rising from danger. David is surrounded by hostility, malice, and violence. Yet this psalm is not primarily about the power of enemies; it is about the strength of God in salvation. David has learned, through years of trials, that survival does not come from clever strategies or personal might, but from a life anchored in the Lord. That is why he can cry out with confidence, “O Lord, my Lord, the strength of my salvation.”

David begins with an urgent plea: “Deliver me, O Lord, from evil men; preserve me from violent men.” There is no pretense here, no attempt to sound composed. This is the prayer of someone who knows he is in danger. The enemies he describes are not merely disagreeable people; they are violent, intentional, and relentless. They plan evil in their hearts and stir up conflict continually. Evil, as David portrays it, is not accidental. It is deliberate, cultivated, and persistent.

While David’s enemies were often literal flesh-and-blood opponents—Saul, hostile nations, treacherous companions—we are reminded elsewhere in Scripture that our ultimate struggle goes beyond human opposition. Paul writes that our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against spiritual forces of wickedness. Yet David’s posture toward his enemies teaches us how to respond even when opposition comes through people. He does not minimize the danger, nor does he exaggerate his own strength. He runs straight to God.

One of the most painful aspects of David’s suffering comes not from swords or spears but from words. “They make their tongue sharp as a serpent’s, and under their lips is the venom of asps.” Words can wound in ways that physical blows often cannot. Slander, false accusations, whispered lies, and public humiliation pierce deeply. It is no wonder that David pauses here with the word “Selah,” inviting the reader to stop and ponder. Many listening to this psalm know exactly what that venom feels like.

James later echoes this reality when he describes the tongue as a small member that causes great destruction, setting entire lives on fire. Words spoken in malice can linger for years, shaping reputations, relationships, and even one’s sense of identity. David does not pretend that such attacks are insignificant. Instead, he brings them honestly before God, acknowledging that only divine protection can guard him from such poison.

In verses four and five, David prays not only for rescue after harm has come, but for protection before it happens. He asks the Lord to keep him from the hands of the wicked and to guard him from their snares. There is wisdom here that is often overlooked. David understands that prevention is better than cure. It is better to be kept from falling into a trap than to ask for healing afterward. This aligns closely with the prayer Jesus taught his disciples: “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” True dependence on God includes asking Him to order our steps away from danger, not merely to rescue us once we are entangled.

Then the tone of the psalm shifts. In the midst of fear and threat, David makes a profound declaration of relationship: “I say to the Lord, You are my God.” This is not a theological statement alone; it is deeply personal. David does not say, “You are the God of Israel,” or “the God of the prophet.” He says, “You are my God.” There is intimacy here, born of years of walking with God through valleys and victories.

This stands in sharp contrast to Saul, who repeatedly referred to the Lord as “your God” when speaking to Samuel. Saul knew about God, feared public opinion, and desired religious approval, but he lacked personal surrender. David, on the other hand, speaks from a place of belonging. Like Thomas before the risen Christ, who exclaimed, “My Lord and my God,” David claims God not merely as sovereign, but as his own.

Out of that relationship flows confidence. David calls the Lord “the strength of my salvation.” Salvation here is not only about forgiveness of sins, though it includes that. It is about rescue, deliverance, and preservation. God is not merely the one who saves; He is the strength behind that salvation. David has no illusion that he saves himself and God merely assists. From the days of tending sheep to reigning as king, David’s testimony remains the same. When he stood before Goliath, he declared that the battle belonged to the Lord. When he reflected on past deliverances, he remembered how the Lord rescued him from the lion and the bear. His confidence was never in his sling or sword, but in the Lord who covers his head in the day of battle.

When David asks God to intervene against the wicked in verses nine through eleven, his words may sound harsh to modern ears. Yet it is important to note that David does not take revenge into his own hands. He brings his anger, his desire for justice, and his sense of wrong to God. He entrusts judgment to the Lord. David has learned the danger of “working salvation with his own hand.”

The incident with Nabal is a turning point in David’s life. Insulted and provoked, David initially sets out to avenge himself with violence. But Abigail, in wisdom and courage, intervenes and pleads with him to stop. David later recognizes that God spared him from bloodguilt by sending her. From that day, David learned that human vengeance is often excessive and destructive. God alone judges rightly—neither too harshly nor too leniently.

This posture finds its ultimate fulfillment in Christ. When Jesus was reviled, He did not revile in return. When He suffered, He did not threaten. Instead, He entrusted Himself to the One who judges justly. David, in his own imperfect way, anticipates this Christlike response by laying his cause before God rather than grasping for control.

The psalm ends with quiet confidence. “I know that the Lord will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and will execute justice for the needy.” This is not wishful thinking; it is settled assurance. David knows the character of the God he serves. He has seen enough deliverances to trust that God will act again. The final note is not fear but gratitude and hope. The righteous will give thanks to God’s name, and the upright will dwell in His presence.

To dwell in God’s presence is the ultimate security. It does not mean a life free from conflict, but a life anchored in God’s faithfulness. Those who live with this confidence can give thanks even in adversity, because their salvation does not depend on circumstances. The Lord Himself is the strength of their salvation.

The practical call of Psalm 140 is clear. When we face opposition—whether through people, circumstances, or unseen spiritual battles—we are invited to bring our fears honestly to God, to guard our hearts and paths from temptation, to rest in our relationship with Him, and to resist the urge to take justice into our own hands. Instead of striving to appear strong, we are called to anchor ourselves deeply in the Lord.

As you reflect on this psalm, ask yourself where you have been relying on your own strength rather than God’s. Consider the words spoken against you, the traps you fear, the injustices you long to correct. Lay them before the Lord and say with David, “You are my God.” There is no greater safety, no firmer foundation, than to live with the assurance that the Lord is the strength of your salvation.