HAVE YOU EVER been accused of something you didn’t do? It’s possible to shrug something like that off if you’re a confident person with a clear conscience. And, of course, it helps if it’s a spontaneous accusation by someone who has no real power over you. But if your accuser persists and has a chance of making the accusation stick, it’s nervous time.

In response, you may run the gamut of emotions: shame, anxiety, rage. Despite your innocence, you know people will talk, so you want your name cleared and your reputation repaired. In a court of law today, you might also seek punitive damages for emotional suffering. But in the psalmist’s day, you might pray for God to punish your accuser by inflicting damage and suffering on them instead.

As we’ve seen, much of the prayer of Psalm 109 is retaliatory. The psalm ends on a note of hope and praise, in which the psalmist expresses confidence in God and is ready to tell everyone about it when God finally comes to his rescue. Just before that, however, we find these final words of cursing:

While they curse, may you bless;
    may those who attack me be put to shame,
    but may your servant rejoice.
May my accusers be clothed with disgrace
    and wrapped in shame as in a cloak. (Ps 109:28-29, NIV)

It’s a bit milder than the earlier verses. Before, the psalmist called for his accuser’s early death, a life of poverty for his family, and the complete erasure of his family line. But here, it’s less about revenge and more about vindication. The psalmist wants God’s justice; he wants his accuser’s unjust lying to be revealed for the disgraceful thing it is and for the man to suffer the consequences.

Still, we have to ask ourselves: is it ever appropriate for Christians to pray a prayer like this? If it’s in our Bibles, does that mean it’s okay? It’s not that I think many believers would be tempted to curse in that fashion — but it’s important to know why we should be leery of doing so. We might remember the words of Paul, for example:

Bless those who persecute you; bless, and do not curse. (Rom 12:14)

Paul’s words, of course, are built on the teaching of Jesus in turn. In the gospel of Luke, Jesus surprised his audience by pronouncing a blessing upon those who were poor, hungry, distraught, or marginalized. He then surprised everyone further by immediately turning around and pronouncing woe upon those who were rich and well-fed, laughing and respected by others (Luke 6:20-26). He blessed society’s losers instead of those would have seemed to be the winners. The psalmist, who knew full well the mercy and kindness of God to the poor, needy, and oppressed, might have cheered.

But I’m not so sure he would have liked what Jesus said next:

But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you. (Luke 6:27-28)

Wait, what? the psalmist might sputter. You don’t understand. I tried doing good to these people and they repaid me with evil. And they’re cursing me for no good reason. I didn’t do anything. You want me to pray for them? You want me to bless them?

Well, that’s what the man said.

It was only a few verses later that Jesus then taught what we saw in the previous post, that people’s words reveal what’s in their hearts, whether good or evil. To that lesson we might add the words of his brother, the apostle James:

With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be. Can both fresh water and salt water flow from the same spring? (James 3:9-11, NIV)

No one would question that we should use our words to praise God. But the heart that produces true praise should not also be producing the brackishness of cursing, because all humans are made in God’s image.

None of this means that the psalmist was completely wrong to curse his enemy. His accuser was guilty of a great injustice. And as this and other psalms suggest, it’s not just the psalmist’s reputation that’s on the line, but God’s. The psalmist has been praying and fasting to the point of frailty; will God sit idly by and let the accuser have his way? What would people say about such a God?

. . .

AS CHRISTIANS, HOWEVER, we know something the psalmist didn’t, something the prophets only saw from a distance. Yes, the psalmist’s accuser was guilty of wickedness. Yes, that wickedness was deserving of condemnation and punishment. Yes, the curse was richly deserved.

But what if we all deserved to be cursed?

And what if God, for the sake of both mercy and justice, took the curse upon himself?

I can’t prove it, but I like to think that if someone had laid out the full story of salvation before the psalmist — from Christmas to Good Friday to Easter to Pentecost and beyond — the psalmist would at first have been dumbfounded. But eventually, the light would dawn; the psalmist would fall on his face in worship. The words with which he had ended the psalm would then take on new meaning:

With my mouth I will greatly extol the Lord;
    in the great throng of worshipers I will praise him.
For he stands at the right hand of the needy,
    to save their lives from those who would condemn them.

Yes, the needy would be saved from condemnation — even if that condemnation came from the very justice of God.