The Thanksgiving at the End of the Betrayal Text: Psalm 35:11-18
Introduction: The Treachery of Ingrates
There are few things that bite as sharply as betrayal. An open enemy is one thing; you know where you stand, and you can prepare yourself for a fight. But when a friend, or someone you treated as a friend, turns on you, the wound is of a different kind altogether. It is not just an attack, but a violation. It is a perversion of the created order, a repayment of good with evil, which the Scriptures tell us is an abomination to the Lord. When you have shown kindness, and receive malice in return, you are experiencing a small taste of what our Lord endured from the foundation of the world.
This psalm is a raw, honest appeal to the high court of heaven. David is being slandered, falsely accused, and surrounded by a pack of grinning hyenas who delight in his troubles. But this is not the cry of a man seeking personal, vigilante vengeance. This is the cry of a righteous man appealing to the righteous Judge. He is not taking matters into his own hands. He is laying the case out before God, presenting the evidence of his own integrity and the evidence of their wicked treachery, and asking God to act as God.
We live in a therapeutic age that is deeply uncomfortable with this kind of language. We are told to forgive and forget, which often means to simply pretend that evil is not evil. But the Bible does not do this. It looks evil squarely in the face, calls it what it is, and appeals to the only one who can deal with it justly. This psalm teaches us the proper, masculine, and faithful response to deep and personal betrayal. The pattern is this: you are wronged, you lament to God, you refuse to take up the bitter root of vengeance yourself, and you conclude with a confident vow of public praise. Because at the end of the day, the story is not about the treachery of men, but about the faithfulness of God.
The Text
Malicious witnesses rise up, Who ask me of things that I do not know. They repay me evil for good, It is bereavement to my soul. But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth; I humbled my soul with fasting, And my prayer kept returning to my bosom. I walked about as though it were my friend or brother; I bowed down mourning, as one who sorrows for a mother. But at my stumbling they were glad and gathered themselves together; The smiters whom I did not know gathered together against me, They tore at me and never were silent. Amongst the godless jesters at a feast, They gnashed at me with their teeth. Lord, how long will You look on? Bring back my soul from their ravages, My only life from the lions. I will give You thanks in the great assembly; I will praise You among a mighty people.
(Psalm 35:11-18 LSB)
The Poison of Perjury (vv. 11-12)
David begins by laying out the charge against his enemies. This is the central grievance.
"Malicious witnesses rise up, Who ask me of things that I do not know. They repay me evil for good, It is bereavement to my soul." (Psalm 35:11-12)
The attack comes in the form of lies. "Malicious witnesses" are not just mistaken; they are intentionally false. They invent charges out of whole cloth, asking him about things he knows nothing about. This is the classic tool of the slanderer. He does not need evidence; he needs malice and an audience. This is precisely what was done to our Lord. False witnesses were brought in to testify against Him, twisting His words and inventing accusations (Matthew 26:59-60). When you are a Christian man standing for the truth, you must expect that your enemies will not engage with your actual arguments. They will simply make things up.
But the true sting is in the second line: "They repay me evil for good." This is not the random malice of a stranger. This is the calculated treachery of an ingrate. David had done them good, and they returned the favor with poison. This is a profound violation of covenantal faithfulness. It is an act of rebellion not just against David, but against the God who commands gratitude and reciprocity. The pain this causes is deep, a "bereavement to my soul." It is like a death. A relationship has died, a trust has been murdered, and the soul is left desolate.
The Record of Righteousness (vv. 13-14)
David does not simply claim he did them good; he provides the evidence. He contrasts their current malice with his former compassion.
"But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth; I humbled my soul with fasting, And my prayer kept returning to my bosom. I walked about as though it were my friend or brother; I bowed down mourning, as one who sorrows for a mother." (Psalm 35:13-14)
When they were in trouble, David grieved. He did not rejoice in their calamity. He entered into their suffering with them. Sackcloth and fasting were not outward shows of piety; they were expressions of genuine, heartfelt grief and intercession. He prayed for them. The phrase "my prayer kept returning to my bosom" is potent. It means his prayer was sincere, and because it was not answered for them, they did not repent, it returned as a blessing to him. God always honors the prayers of a righteous man, even when the object of the prayer remains hard-hearted.
He treated them like family. He mourned for them as for a "friend or brother," or even with the deep sorrow one has for a mother. This is not casual concern. This is deep, familial, covenantal love. And again, we see a perfect foreshadowing of the Lord Jesus, who, looking over the very city that would crucify Him, wept. "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem... how often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing!" (Matthew 23:37). David's grief, and Christ's grief, shows us the heart of God toward sinners. It is a heart of compassion, even in the face of rebellion.
The Glee of the Godless (vv. 15-16)
The contrast could not be more stark. David mourned their sickness; they celebrate his stumbling.
"But at my stumbling they were glad and gathered themselves together; The smiters whom I did not know gathered together against me, They tore at me and never were silent. Amongst the godless jesters at a feast, They gnashed at me with their teeth." (Psalm 35:15-16)
When David faltered, they threw a party. They "gathered themselves together." This is mob behavior. It is the cowardly pack mentality that finds courage in numbers. Notice the phrase, "the smiters whom I did not know." In their glee, they attracted others to the cause, strangers who joined in the attack simply for the sport of it. They tore at him like wild animals and were never silent. This is the endless cacophony of the online mob, the perpetual chatter of slander.
He calls them "godless jesters at a feast." Their mockery is their entertainment. They are feasting on his pain. Their gnashing of teeth is an expression of pure, animalistic hatred. It is a demonic rage against the righteous man. This is what the chief priests and elders did at the cross, mocking Jesus, wagging their heads, delighting in the suffering of the Son of God. This joy in another's downfall is the very spirit of Satan, the accuser of the brethren.
The Cry to the Judge (v. 17)
Having laid out the case, David turns from the accused to the Judge. He makes his appeal.
"Lord, how long will You look on? Bring back my soul from their ravages, My only life from the lions." (Psalm 35:17)
This is not a cry of doubt, but a cry of faith. "How long?" assumes that God will, in fact, act. It is an appeal to God's own timeline and His own justice. It can feel like God is simply looking on, like a spectator. But the man of faith knows that God's seeing is not passive. He is the judge observing the proceedings, and He will bring down the gavel at the appointed time. David asks God to rescue him, to bring back his "only life", his precious, singular life, from the "lions." His enemies are not just misguided individuals; they are a ravenous pride of lions, and only God can deliver him from their teeth.
The Vow of Public Praise (v. 18)
The psalm does not end with the lament. It ends with a confident resolution. The verdict is assumed. Deliverance is certain. And the response to that deliverance will not be private.
"I will give You thanks in the great assembly; I will praise You among a mighty people." (Psalm 35:18)
This is the proper end of all our private trials. They are meant to result in public worship. When God delivers you from slander, from sickness, from financial trouble, from any lion, that testimony does not belong to you alone. It belongs to the church. David promises to give thanks "in the great assembly." He will praise God "among a mighty people."
This is a profoundly postmillennial sentiment. The people of God are not a tiny, frightened remnant huddled in a corner. They are a "mighty people," a "great assembly." And our individual stories of God's faithfulness are the fuel for the church's corporate confidence. When we hear how God delivered our brother, it strengthens our faith for our own battles. This is why we gather on the Lord's Day. We are rehearsing our final victory. We are declaring that no matter how sharp the betrayal, no matter how loud the mockery, the final word is not the gnashing of teeth, but the resounding praise of the redeemed.
Conclusion: From Bereavement to Blessing
So what is the takeaway for us? This psalm gives us a divine template for handling the deep wounds of betrayal. First, we must maintain our own integrity. Like David, we should be able to say that we returned good for evil. We are to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. This is not an option; it is a command.
Second, when betrayed, we must not pretend it is not what it is. We must not call evil good. We are to see the sin for what it is and take our case to God. We lament, we cry out, we appeal to the righteous Judge. We hand the sword of vengeance over to Him, because it belongs to Him alone.
And finally, we must live in confident expectation of deliverance, looking forward to the day when we will add our own story to the great chorus of praise "in the great assembly." For our David, the Lord Jesus, has already passed through the ultimate betrayal. He was repaid evil for the ultimate good. He was surrounded by the jesters and the lions. He cried out to His Father. And God rescued Him from the ravages of death, raising Him to His right hand. And because He was delivered, so shall we be. And our final destiny is to stand with that mighty people, forever praising the God who turns every bereavement into a blessing.