Commentary - Psalm 44:17-22

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 44 is a corporate lament, a national cry of confusion and anguish. This particular section, verses 17-22, forms the core of the people's legal brief before the heavenly court. The psalmist, speaking for the nation, presents a stunning argument: "All this disaster has befallen us, and yet it is not because of covenant infidelity. We are being treated as covenant-breakers, but we are not." This is not the proud protestation of sinless perfection, but rather a corporate claim of fundamental faithfulness. They argue that, as a people, they have not engaged in the kind of apostasy that would merit this level of judgment according to the terms of the covenant. They are suffering the curses of Deuteronomy 28, but without having committed the requisite national sins. The passage climaxes with the raw assertion that their suffering is precisely because of their loyalty to God, a claim the Apostle Paul will later pick up and place into its ultimate redemptive context in Romans 8. This is a psalm that forces us to grapple with the hard providences of God and the mystery of suffering that is not directly tied to immediate, discernible sin.

The central thrust is a bold, faith-filled complaint. It is the cry of a loyal son who is being treated like a rebel and cannot understand why. The psalmist is not accusing God of injustice, but is rather appealing to God's own justice and covenant faithfulness. He is, in effect, asking God to look at the evidence. "Search our hearts," he says, "You know we have not turned to other gods. Therefore, our suffering must have another explanation." That explanation is found in the last verse: "for Your sake we are killed all day long." Their faithfulness has made them a target, and they are laying their case before the only one who can vindicate them.


Outline


Context In Psalms

Psalm 44 is one of the psalms of the sons of Korah. It begins with a recitation of God's mighty acts in the past, remembering how God drove out the nations and planted Israel in the land (vv. 1-3). This is followed by a declaration of trust in God, not in their own strength (vv. 4-8). This glorious memory of past salvation creates a stark contrast with the present reality of defeat, shame, and disaster described in verses 9-16. The section we are examining (vv. 17-22) is the theological heart of the psalm, where the people wrestle with the why of their suffering. The psalm concludes with an urgent plea for God to wake up and intervene (vv. 23-26). This psalm is a model of honest lament. It does not stoop to faithless grumbling, but rather brings its confusion and pain directly to God, grounding its appeal in God's character and His covenant promises. It provides a canonical template for the people of God to use when their experience of the world seems to contradict God's promises.


Key Issues


A Covenantal Lawsuit

We must not read this psalm as a whiny complaint. This is a formal, covenantal appeal. Imagine a vassal king who has been utterly loyal to his suzerain. He has paid his tribute, obeyed the stipulations of the treaty, and fought the suzerain's enemies. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the great king has allowed this loyal vassal to be overrun and crushed. The vassal's appeal would not be one of rebellion, but one of confusion based on the terms of the treaty itself. "My lord, I have kept my side of the bargain. Why is this happening?"

This is what Israel is doing here. They are not claiming to be sinless. The Old Testament saints were keenly aware of their personal sins. But they are claiming that, as a nation, they have not committed high-handed, covenant-breaking treason. They have not "dealt falsely" with the covenant. They haven't set up golden calves or imported Baal worship as a matter of state policy. And so, they bring their case before the Judge of all the earth, and they plead His own righteousness. This is a bold faith, a faith that holds God to His own promises and asks Him to act consistently with His own declared character.


Verse by Verse Commentary

17 All this has come upon us, but we have not forgotten You, And we have not dealt falsely with Your covenant.

The psalmist begins the core argument by stating the two sides of the paradox. On the one hand, "all this has come upon us", the defeat, the shame, the slaughter mentioned in the previous verses. On the other hand, a twofold declaration of faithfulness: "we have not forgotten You" and "we have not dealt falsely with Your covenant." To forget God is the root of all apostasy. It means to live as though He were not there, to ignore His laws, and to cease to worship Him. To deal falsely with the covenant is to commit treason, to break the sworn oath that bound them to Yahweh as their God-King. The nation, speaking through the psalmist, asserts that this is not their condition. They are in the midst of the covenant curses, but they deny having committed the covenant treachery that would warrant them.

18 Our heart has not turned back, Nor have our steps deviated from Your path,

This verse intensifies the claim by speaking to both internal orientation and external action. "Our heart has not turned back." The heart is the seat of loyalty, the wellspring of all action. They are claiming that their fundamental allegiance remains with God. They have not inwardly apostatized. And this internal reality is evidenced by their external conduct: "Nor have our steps deviated from Your path." The "path" is a common biblical metaphor for the way of life prescribed by God's law. They are saying that their public, corporate life has been one of obedience. Again, this is not a claim of perfection, but of direction. A man walking on a path might stumble, but that is different from turning around and walking in the opposite direction. They have not turned back.

19 Yet You have crushed us in a place of jackals And covered us with the shadow of death.

Here is the sharp point of the complaint. The word "Yet" sets up the brutal contrast. Despite our faithfulness, "You have crushed us." They attribute their calamity directly to God's agency. This is robust theology; they are not blaming fate or bad luck. God is sovereign, and so He is the one who has done this. The description of their state is grim. A "place of jackals" is a desolate ruin, a wilderness fit only for scavengers. To be crushed there is to be left for dead in a wasteland. To be "covered with the shadow of death" is to be enveloped in a profound and terrifying darkness, a place of utter despair and hopelessness. It is a living death. The loyal son is in the pigsty.

20-21 If we had forgotten the name of our God Or spread our hands to a strange god, Would not God find this out? For He knows the secrets of the heart.

The psalmist now calls God Himself as the key witness to verify their claim. He presents a hypothetical condition: "If we had committed idolatry..." To forget God's name is to forget His character and His claim on them. To spread one's hands to a strange god is the quintessential act of worship and supplication directed toward an idol. The psalmist then asks a rhetorical question: "Would not God find this out?" The answer is, of course, a resounding yes. And the reason is that "He knows the secrets of the heart." This is a brilliant legal move. The psalmist is saying, "God, You are omniscient. You can see past all our external performances and religious charades. You know the hidden motives and the secret allegiances of our hearts. Search us. You will find that our claim is true. We are not idolaters." They are resting their entire case on the omniscience of God.

22 But for Your sake we are killed all day long; We are counted as sheep for the slaughter.

This is the stunning conclusion of their argument. The suffering is not because they have abandoned God, but precisely the opposite. "For Your sake", because we are Your people, because we bear Your name, because we refuse to bow to the "strange gods" of the nations around us, we are being persecuted and killed. The suffering is constant, "all day long." They are defenseless and treated as worthless, like "sheep for the slaughter." This is not a judgment for sin; it is martyrdom. They are suffering for the sake of righteousness. And it is this verse that the Apostle Paul seizes in Romans 8. He takes this cry of apparent defeat and places it in the context of Christ's ultimate victory. For the Christian, suffering for Christ's sake is not a sign of God's displeasure, but rather a participation in the sufferings of Christ Himself, a path that leads not to ultimate defeat, but to being "more than conquerors through Him who loved us."


Application

There are times in the life of a believer, or in the life of a church, when suffering descends and the reason for it is not clear. We search our hearts, and while we always find sin to confess, we do not find some great apostasy or rebellion that would seem to warrant the trial we are enduring. In such moments, Psalm 44 is a great gift. It teaches us that it is not faithless to ask God "why?" so long as we ask in faith.

This psalm gives us permission to protest our case before God, to lay out the facts as we see them, and to appeal to His justice and faithfulness. It teaches us to be honest about our pain. But it also forces us to a crucial conclusion. If our suffering is not a direct chastisement for a specific sin, then it must be for His sake. God is doing something in our suffering that is deeper than simple cause-and-effect punishment. He is conforming us to the image of His Son. He is teaching us to trust Him in the dark. He is displaying His power in our weakness.

The Apostle Paul understood this. He knew that for those in Christ, being counted as sheep for the slaughter is not the final word. The final word is that nothing, not tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword, "will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom 8:39). Psalm 44 asks the agonizing question. Romans 8 provides the ultimate, gospel-drenched answer.