All through the ages, even kings are known to lose their cool and say things they later regret. What about the angry outbursts of the king who sings in the Psalms?

There are places in the Psalms where the anger behind the words is unmistakable. And in those heated stanzas, some Psalms even break into curses against foes. Was King David “just losing his cool”’?

Consider the shocking imprecation of Psalm 109:

May his days be few;

may another take his office!

May his children be fatherless

and his wife a widow …

May there be none to extend kindness to him…

May his posterity be cut off…

It was because of lines like these that leaders of the modern hymn writing movement sought to replace psalm singing with new songs. Believing such expressions were regrettable—even “un-Christian”—they wrote new hymns. But before we jump to the conclusion that our praises should be empty of such harsh words, maybe we should consider why these curses were part of Israel’s praises in the first place. Is it regrettable that such imprecations are here; or, are the condemnations in the Psalms an important part of Christian praise that we are missing in contemporary worship?

The imprecation just quoted from Psalm 109 was specifically identified by Peter as being words of Jesus (and became the basis for replacing Judas) in Acts 1:20. Yes, these kinds of prayers are uncomfortable (they are supposed to be!), but they are there, given by God and led by Christ, for us to sing. Curses in the Psalms are not provided for us to sing with relish, but even these hard lines are there for our faith and worship.

Just to be clear: imprecatory psalms are relatively rare within the Psalter. It is out of proportion with the Psalter’s own dimensions to devote an entire chapter to them in this book. Nonetheless, the challenge which these harsh Psalms pose for those who want to sing the Psalms, and to do so in Christian grace, is important enough to deserve attention. In this chapter, I want to look at the role of the imprecatory Psalms in Christian faith and worship.

The Place of Judgment in the Christian Faith

The first thing we need to do is clarify the role of judgment, in general, in the Christian faith. Perhaps a good place to start is with the paradigmatic display of divine judgment given early in Genesis: the flood. Everyone knows the story of Noah, his ark, and all the animals he carried with him to safety during the flood. But have you ever noticed what the meaning of Noah’s name is, and the way in which his story is introduced?

In the closing verses of Genesis 5, Noah’s story is introduced with a prophecy from his father. It is this prophecy of Noah’s father which explains the flood that came in Noah’s day: When Lamech had lived 182 years, he fathered a son and called his name Noah (Heb. noach), saying, “Out of the ground that the Lord has cursed this one shall bring us relief (Heb., nacham; lit., “rest”) from our work and from the painful toil of our hands” (Gen. 5:28–9).

Noah’s father, Lamech, was among that line of believers who continued to look for the One, promised to Adam, who would deliver them from the curse pronounced in Eden. Noah was not to be the Messiah, himself; but he was to be one, serving in the redemptive work of Christ, bringing rest to God’s people. This is why Lamech named his son “Noah: meaning rest.” Isn’t that interesting? The name of Noah, and the work God was to perform in his day, was to be a work of rest. It would be a great judgment—a dreadful judgment, purging the world of that day of all kinds of evildoers. But the purpose of that judgment was rest.

When politicians in America seek an executive office—whether mayor, governor, or president—one of the promises they often make is that they will be “tough on crime.” We know that, when wickedness reigns unchecked on our streets, the city is unsafe and all that is good comes to a standstill. But it is the mark of a governor’s love for all that is right, and of a courtroom magistrate’s goodness, when evildoers are given urgent exhortations to abandon their ways, and are stopped if they persist.

In such a manner, God appointed Noah to preach to his generation for 120 years. Although he does not seem to have had much fruit from his preaching, he seems to have found godly spouses for his three sons. Nonetheless, when the time came, God delivered Noah and his family, but poured down a terrible judgment upon the wicked.

When the judge’s gavel drops and justice is executed, only then do the righteous receive relief from the violence and moral wrongs of their afflicters. In times of especially intense affliction, it is the hope that such judgment will come that provides comfort and strength to the suffering soul. Indeed, everyone who looks forward to the return of Christ and the close of the ages, is hoping for the rest that only comes when judgment is executed. The expectation of judgment is an inseparable feature of Christian hope.

Indeed, while it has sometimes been argued that the imprecations in the Psalms are remnants of an “Old Testament ethic” which has no place in the Christian church, we have to recognize that prayers for judgment are as much a feature of the New Testament church as the Old. In Mark 11:12–26, the Evangelist reports an imprecation that Jesus announced against the temple. In Matthew 23:1–36, Jesus delivers a series of curses against the scribes and Pharisees. On the Isle of Cyprus, Paul called down judgment upon Elymas (Acts 13:10-11). Peter likewise pronounced Christ’s judgment on Simon the magician in Acts 8:20. In fact, in Galatians 1:8–9, Paul actually instructs us to pronounce Christ’s curse on those who bring heresy into the church (cf., Titus 3:10–11; 1 John 5:16). Furthermore, in the Book of Revelation, we are told that the saints in heaven pray for judgment on the foes of the church (Rev. 6:10).

Imprecation is not strictly an Old Testament feature. It is found all through the Scriptures, even on the lips of the apostles, of Christ himself, and in the assemblies in heaven.1 But in all these examples, the judgments announced are articulations of God’s judgment, not personal vendetta. That is crucial to recognize. Furthermore, it is significant to recognize that Jesus’ aforementioned curses in Mark 11 and Matthew 23 are both immediately followed by teaching on forgiveness (Mark 11:24-5) and restoration (Matt. 23:37-39).

It is not that Jesus is “regretting” His imprecations in these further lines about forgiveness. Rather, He is showing us that judgment is not out of harmony with the gospel of grace and forgiveness. Furthermore, He is teaching us that we must have a heart of grace, even when we do announce God’s judgment.

A passage from the apostle might be helpful at this point. In Romans 12, Paul teaches the church to “bless those who persecute you; bless and curse not.” He tells us that the basis upon which we can let go of offenses against us is because we know that God will exact His judgments on these offenses: “Leave it to the wrath of God.” Paul continues, “For it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay’” (Rom. 12:14-21). According to Paul, the reason we do not curse offenders with our own curses, is because we expect God’s curses to be brought to bear on the wicked.

Here, then, is an important distinction we find in the biblical teaching on judgment. In all moral and physical wrongs, the Christian is to acknowledge that God is the Judge (not me). Therefore, we refrain from presuming to choose and inflict our own judgments on those who wrong us. Nevertheless, just as we readily announce the promise of God’s forgiveness on all who repent, so we also announce the promise of God’s judgment on all who do not repent. This is part of the gospel proclamation, and there are Psalms to help us sing of God’s judgment (that brings rest) in a messy world, just as there are Psalms to help us sing of His forgiveness (that brings restoration)….

One of my favorite lines in C. S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia occurs when Mr. and Mrs. Beaver first tell Lucy about the lion Aslan (the Christ-figure in that allegory). Quite alarmed at this talk of a lion, Lucy asks, “Is he quite safe?” to which Mr. Beaver replies, “Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.” And so the thematic phrase is repeated throughout the story, “He is not a tame lion.”2

Imprecatory psalms remind us that Jesus is a good king, but not a “tame” king. He is a just king, who loves His people and comes to their aid. Sometimes He brings peace to His church by bringing our persecutors to their knees in repentance and faith, like Saul who once ravaged the church but was converted himself into a great minister in the church (Acts 9:1-31). What a glorious deliverance that is when that happens! But sometimes God brings peace by exacting justice on persecutors, like when He brought Herod’s sentence of death on James, and attempt to kill Peter, upon Herod’s own head, by which judgment “the word of God increased and multiplied” (Acts 12:1–24) . In His own wisdom, God is the one who does these things, and we are not in a position to insist on one way or the other. And there are actually Scriptures that teach us both to pray for the forgiveness, and to pray for God’s judgment, in the face of persecution. Is that a contradiction?

I find it interesting that the New Testament martyr, Stephen, was actually arrested because he was announcing imprecations against the apostate temple (Acts 6:14), and in his speech at his trial he directly condemned those who were persecuting him (vv. 51–53). Nevertheless, at the same time, he lifted his eyes toward heaven and prayed for God’s forgiveness on his foes (v. 60). Subsequent events showed that both Stephen’s expectations were right: God did bring judgment upon the temple and its leadership (the temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD), and he also brought repentance and forgiveness to at least one from amongst them (Saul) prior to that judgment. God brought rest to His church through both forgiveness and judgment, and Stephen was right to pray for both.

I recall again how Jesus, in His own teachings on imprecation, exhorted us to pray for judgment, but to do so with hearts of forgiveness. Let me quote Jesus’ words on the matter, from the Gospel according to Mark. In the preceding paragraphs, Jesus had just announced a curse on the temple (through the figure of a fig tree) for failing to produce fruit for him. The disciples are amazed at the power of Jesus’ word of judgment, which leads to this exchange between them:

And Peter remembered and said to him, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree that you cursed has withered.” And Jesus answered them, “Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain [i.e., the temple mount], ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses”(Mark 11:21-26). This passage from Jesus’ ministry is often quoted as the basis for praying for whatever we want, in “prosperity gospel” teaching. However, in its context it is actually teaching about imprecatory prayer. Jesus is teaching His disciples that they, also, will see such violations of God’s name and His people that will lead them to pray for judgment as Jesus brought judgment “on this mountain” before the eyes of the disciples. But Jesus was quick to add that, “whenever you stand praying, clear your own heart of bitterness and forgive.” When God does come in judgment, you need to insure your heart is right so that you, yourself, do not fall under that judgment too.

Similarly, in Matthew 23, Jesus called down “woes” upon the scribes and Pharisees (vv. 1-33) and proclaimed judgment against Jerusalem “so that on you may come [justice for] all the righteous blood shed on earth, from the blood of innocent Abel to the blood of Zechariah the son of Barachiah, whom you murdered between the sanctuary and the altar. Truly, I say to you, all these things will come upon this generation” (Matt. 23:34-6). Then, immediately after pronouncing that imprecation, He wept over the city with a heart to gather the people to himself:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those whom are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not” (Matt. 23:37).

There is, at the heart of the Christian faith, a gospel that announces both life and death, forgiveness and judgment, eternal life and eternal damnation. These are not contradictory, but rather express the unified glory of God applied to sinful humanity, saving many to life and passing over many to judgment. Jesus teaches us to pray according to the fullness of the gospel. And in the Psalms, He provides for our meditation and singing according to the fullness of the gospel….

I was participating in a seminar on the Psalms in Glasgow, Scotland, some years ago. The subject of the imprecatory Psalms was the focus of one session, with contributing scholars from several different nations taking part.

One of the participants was a young priest from the Anglican Church in Rwanda. He spoke about the genocide in Rwanda in 1994, and how most of his own family was brutally slain in that violence. Three of his brothers were killed on the same day. It was painful for this man even to talk about those events. Then he told about the hundreds of missionaries who flooded into the nation after the violence had ceased—missionaries from the West who came instructing the people that they needed to forgive and reconcile with their brutal adversaries.

My colleague said that, while he and his fellow Christian survivors in Rwanda recognized the need for forgiveness, the messages from these missionaries seemed hollow. They simply did not understand the brutality of what they had experienced. But then he found Psalm 137 in his Bible. And he said to us, that in reading this psalm, he found peace to trust God to bring justice and thereby to let go of the bitterness in his own heart. For in Psalm 137, he found that the psalm singer understands the necessity of justice to put things right again. And, ironically, he was able to forgive, because of Psalm 137·

After this young minister from Rwanda spoke, another young minister from Nigeria spoke. He described the unrest and bloodshed which his country has continually experienced over the years. And he spoke about the comfort which believers in that land found in looking to God to bring judgment on the wicked. “We need such psalms,” he concluded.

Then, a minister from Pakistan spoke. He observed that, any time Christians today pray for their government leaders and their militaries to have wisdom and success in the modern “war on terror,” those Christians are praying imprecatory prayers. Whether we realize it or not, such prayers are calling on God to bring the same kind of justice as the cursing psalms invoke.

Men like these live and serve Jesus in circumstances we, in the West, have not experienced for a long time. Maybe the reason the modern hymn-writing movement sought to get away from such psalms is because the relative peace of the West has brought us into circumstances where we don’t perceive a need of them. But their presence reminds us that the psalter is not just a hymnal for the affluent churches of the modern West. It is the hymnal for all God’s Church, in all times and places. And psalms like this help us to remember and to pray with our persecuted brothers around the world in their afflictions.

The psalms of imprecation are rare within the Psalter. And they are to be used humbly in Christ (not for personal angst). But because the gospel is a promise of redemption fulfilled through patient grace anticipating final judgment, these hymns too are an important part of Christian worship.

—Dr. LeFebvre is pastor of Christ Church (Brownsburg, Ind.) RPC. This article is excerpted from his book Singing the Songs of Jesus (Christian Focus, 2010).

Endnotes

1John N. Day produced an excellent dissertation while studying at Dallas Theological Seminary on “The Imprecatory Psalms and Christian Ethics” that explores the relationship between Old and New Testament curses. His work has recently been published under the title, Crying for Justice, and has been summarized in an article in Bibliotheca Sacra, “The Imprecatory Psalms and Christian Ethics.”

2C. S. Lewis, Chronicles of Narnia, p. 146 (“not a tame lion”: e.g., 194, 677, 679, 682, 707).