Psalm 86

Don’t go looking for the precise spot David occupied when he composed this sweet hymn. We have no idea what human historical context goes with this impassioned plea, and precious few humans can even begin to share the moral place he stood. That’s what makes all the difference in the world, because it’s not enough to translate the words if we can’t transport our souls over into that moral sphere of the heart where Heaven calls us to rise from our natural fallen state.

Nor could we guess why the Temple music director pulled this psalm of David into the midst of their collection of songs, but we do understand how this fits into a penitent call that robes every soul sincerely seeking God’s favor. Without the moral tenor carried in these words, it won’t matter where you stand in the entire universe, you won’t stand in God’s Presence.

David begins by depicting a young child begging his father to bend down and hear his tiny voice. The Hebrew figure of speech often translated “poor and needy” is not merely an economic condition, but a sense of total dependence. While most English translations have David referring to himself as “holy” it might better be rendered as “godly” in the sense of morally consistent with God’s character. It’s the image of someone who manages to gaze upon this messy reality from an eternal viewpoint and then acting accordingly. The context is a claim to feudal loyalty. And it’s not so much that David cries all day long like a whiner, but that he cannot imagine going anywhere else with concerns that are far bigger than he.

A mighty lord in David’s time would surely rescue even his own domestic herds if they fell into a tight spot, so there’s nothing wrong with a human servant asking for a rescue from trouble. “Give me another reason to shout to the world what a mighty and good God you are!” So David refreshes his request for an honest hearing of his plea. This day and any day when things are difficult, David will call on no one else.

He goes on to contrast how Jehovah is not like any other deity. Whose gods could claim dividing the waters and making the seabed dry? Whose idols could speak with fire, smoke and earthquakes? Which of the gods dropped food from the sky daily for years on end? Which of the deities drove out entire nations of giants and massive armies with better technology? No god had such a record, and so David notes he can’t imagine thinking of any of them as actual gods. David paints the image of a mighty warrior king leading a vast army that includes all of Creation itself.

Verse 11 rings across the ages and appears in many modern worship songs. Reshape me, David says, and make me like You. Ancient Near Eastern law was conceived not as mere writ, but as the character of the ruler Himself, and David asks for insight into what God intends in His realm. “What would I do if it were You at work here?” In giving fresh life to a ruler’s moral character, David hopes to warm himself in the glow of divine truth as a living force in Creation. “I wanna make You look good, Lord!” After all God has done by bringing David into His empire, how could David not bring God fame? It was as if God had breathed life into David’s dead corpse.

And what did it bring him? David faced relentless opposition from those who were hostile to God’s revelation, those who rejected His call. David simply could not fathom how people might walk away from God’s mercy. In the final lines, he admits he’s just a nobody, wholly undeserving of any good thing. But he does make himself fully available, so if for no other reason, let God reshape David into an ensign of divine authority just to shake folks up. Show them You are Boss, O Lord!