King David wrote, “In return for my love they accuse me, but I give myself to prayer” (Psalm 109:4). Though he loved, he was hatefully (v. 5) lied about in return. Yet how he responded is lovely: He prayed.
David had enemies. Some were the result of his own sin (think Bathsheba and Uriah). In other cases, despite David’s loving care, some turned against him. This is the theme of Psalm 109.
This is one of the so-called imprecatory psalms in which the psalmist prays for God to exert his vengeance upon the ungodly. Though these psalms use strong language, they are not personally vindictive. Rather, they articulate the desire for God’s righteousness to be vindicated through his righteous judgement. They therefore call forth a David-like response, who gave himself to prayer.
We can feel David’s pain having been rejected by those he loved. His love was recompensed with slanderous accusations. Perhaps you can relate. You may be a parent, who sacrificially served your child, only to be repaid repaid with ingratitude and accusations of, “You should have.” You may be a husband or wife, who has lived with the sorrow of love unrequited. You may be a church member, who has loved and yet a fellow member has misrepresented. Regardless, each of us will probably experience something like David did. Will we respond as he did?
Note David’s honesty: He transparently faced the reality of betrayal. He didn’t try to save face but rather admitted that, though he loved people, they mistreated him. In a sin-saturated cosmos, including a sin-struggling local church, mistreatment should not surprise us.
This week, I learned from a network email that two pastors of different churches have been maligned by those they have lovingly served. While seeking to lead their churches toward biblical reformation, they have been maliciously treated. False accusations have created a landslide of lies that, like molten lava, is destroying everything in its path. One pastor summarised, “I am really discouraged.” And then he asked for prayer. David would say, “Amen!” and then advise, “When mistreated, when your love is despised, be sure that you keep loving the Lord. People will fail you, he will not.”
When David was treated with contempt, he gave himself to prayer because he didn’t blame God for the evil of others. Though sinners treated him with calumny, he knew he would still find communion with the Lord.
When we feel abandoned, rejected, and even friendless, let us remember that our God will never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). Remember that nothing can separate God’s children from his love (Romans 8:39). Prayer equips us to focus on the unchanging affection of our Father amid the fickleness of fallen humanity.
Second, David prayed because he knew God’s shoulders were big and strong enough to handle the weight of his heartache, which leads to the third reason he prayed: because he refused to respond personally choosing rather to let God handle the accusers.
Though David prayed strong words in Psalm 109—asking God to exercise vengeance upon those wronging him—he ultimately viewed these wrongs as being sins against a holy God. His prayers therefore took the personal sting out of the wrongs, entrusting himself into the care of the one who does justly (1 Peter 2:23). By giving ourselves to prayer when mistreated, we are consciously placing ourselves in the care of the one who is our refuge, our ever-present help in trouble.
As I have argued elsewhere, the imprecatory psalms—all the psalms, in fact—reflect the heart of Jesus. And David’s psalms particularly are representative of the words of our Lord and Saviour because they find their fulfilment in him. Including Psalm 109.
No one ever loved like our Lord Jesus. He loved his own, yet they rejected him. He loved the unlovely, yet they despised and rejected him. He love his disciples to the end (John 13:1), yet at his end they forsook him. In other words, Jesus has fully fulfilled this verse: He loved and yet was maliciously accused, leading to his being crucified. But further, like David, our greater David gave himself to prayer.
John 17 records what is customarily referred to as Jesus’ “High Priestly Prayer.” Amazingly, Jesus went to prayer at the precise time he was being betrayed, maligned, and (soon) arrested. Then he went to prayer again shortly thereafter in Gethsemane (Mark 14:32).
The point is that Jesus prayed while being wronged. He went to prayer because he knew the Father was up to something big: the redemption of his people. Jesus was confident that, once he paid the price for sinners, he would be vindicated by his resurrection and ascension. But he was also confident that, on the Last Day, his righteous love would be fully vindicated by the complete redemption of his own and the judicial rejection of those who reject him. Because he knew all this, because he believed all of this, he could give himself to prayer amid being wronged. He could trust the sorting out of justice to his Father. And so should we.
Rejected love, especially maliciously rejected love, is painful. Jesus knows this. And Jesus prayed like he knew this. Therefore, let us follow his example, giving ourselves to prayer and leaving the outcome with our wise, loving, and just heavenly Father.
Doug