Commentary - Psalm 50:16-23

Bird's-eye view

In this latter portion of Psalm 50, Asaph, speaking for God, turns his attention from the folly of formalistic worship to the outright wickedness of the religious hypocrite. The Lord has just finished explaining that He doesn't need the bulls and goats of His people; He desires thanksgiving and faithfulness (vv. 7-15). Now, He confronts the man who knows all the right words, who can recite the catechism and talk a good game about covenant theology, but whose life is a complete contradiction to the words in his mouth. This is a blistering rebuke of those who maintain a pious front while their hearts and hands are given over to sin. The psalm concludes with a stark warning and a gracious invitation, drawing a sharp line between the one who forgets God and the one who glorifies Him through genuine praise and an ordered life.

God lays out a detailed charge sheet against the wicked. They talk about the covenant but hate the discipline that comes with it. They are accomplices to thieves and adulterers. Their mouths are cesspools of evil and deceit, and they even turn their slanderous tongues against their own family. God's patience, His silence, has been misinterpreted as approval, as though God were as corrupt as they are. But the time for silence is over. Judgment is coming, and it will be a terrifying reality. The psalm ends by making the path forward plain: true worship, expressed in thanksgiving, glorifies God. A life ordered according to His ways is the path to seeing His salvation. It is a choice between being torn to pieces and seeing the salvation of God.


Outline


Context In Psalms

Psalm 50 is one of the twelve psalms ascribed to Asaph, a contemporary of David and a leader in temple worship. This psalm is a prophetic lawsuit, a covenantal lawsuit (rib), where God Himself summons the heavens and the earth as witnesses (v. 4) to judge His people. The first part of the psalm (vv. 1-15) addresses the entire covenant community, correcting their misunderstanding of sacrifice. They were diligent in their offerings (v. 8), but they had fallen into the pagan assumption that God somehow needed their sacrifices, as though He got hungry (vv. 12-13). God corrects this by reminding them He owns everything and what He truly desires is a thankful heart and a life of faith that calls on Him in trouble.

The section we are considering (vv. 16-23) narrows the focus to a specific kind of person within that community: the wicked man who cloaks his sin with religious language. This is not an attack on an outsider, but a rebuke of an insider, a covenant member. The structure of the psalm shows that right worship is not just about correct forms; it must be connected to a righteous life. You cannot separate liturgy and life. To do so is to invite the searing judgment of God.


Verse by Verse Commentary

v. 16 But to the wicked God says, “What right have you to recount My statutes And to take My covenant in your mouth?

God now turns to the wicked man. Notice, this is not the atheist, not the pagan, but the man inside the assembly who looks the part. He can recount the statutes. He knows the material. He can talk about covenant theology, maybe even lead a small group on it. But God asks him a devastating question: "What right have you?" By what authority do you handle these holy things? It is as though a man in a pigsty were trying to lecture on sanitation. The words themselves are holy, but they are profaned in his mouth because his heart is profane. The covenant is a sacred bond, a solemn oath, and this man treats it like a cheap trinket, something to be mouthed without any intention of honoring its terms. God never asked thieves and adulterers to become chancel prancers.

v. 17 For you hate discipline, And you cast My words behind you.

Here is the root of the problem. It's not intellectual ignorance; it's moral rebellion. He hates discipline. The Hebrew word is musar, which means instruction, correction, discipline. He despises being told what to do. He wants a religion that makes him feel good, not one that makes him be good. He wants the comfort of the covenant without the correction of it. And so, what does he do with God's words? He casts them behind him. This is a picture of utter contempt. He hears the sermon, he reads the passage, and then he deliberately turns his back on it and walks the other way. It is out of sight, out of mind. He knows the liturgy, and therefore he hates true instruction.

v. 18 When you see a thief, you are pleased with him, And you associate with adulterers.

The indictment now gets specific, moving from his attitude toward God's Word to his actions with God's enemies. His life is characterized by sinful alliances. When he sees a thief, he doesn't rebuke him or report him; he is pleased with him. He consents, he finds fellowship there. The phrase can mean to "run with" him. He is in league with thieves. And his sin is not limited to financial dishonesty. He is also a partaker with adulterers. He keeps company with those who break the most intimate of human covenants, which is no surprise, given how he treats God's covenant. This is a picture of a man who is comfortable with sin and sinners. He finds his true community not among the upright, but among the corrupt.

v. 19 You let your mouth loose in evil And you harness your tongue for deceit.

From his actions, God moves to his words. His mouth is "let loose" in evil. There is no restraint, no governor on his speech. It is a torrent of filth. And his tongue is not just loose, it is directed. He "harnesses" it for deceit. This is calculated, deliberate falsehood. He yokes his tongue to the task of lying, like an ox is yoked to a plow. He is a craftsman of deceit. This is the man who can use religious language to manipulate, who can twist Scripture to justify his sin, who can smile to your face while plotting your ruin. His mouth is an open sewer, and his tongue is a weapon.

v. 20 You sit and speak against your brother; You slander your own mother’s son.

The evil of his tongue is now shown in its most unnatural and heinous form. He attacks his own family. He "sits" to speak against his brother, which implies a settled, leisurely activity. This isn't a slip of the tongue in a moment of anger; this is his pastime. He sits in judgment, like a corrupt magistrate, and condemns his own brother. The phrase "your own mother's son" intensifies the horror. This is not a distant relative; this is the one with whom he shared a womb. He slanders the one who should be dearest to him. This reveals a heart that is utterly cold, a heart that has rejected the most basic natural affections, all while pretending to love God.

v. 21 These things you have done and I kept silent; You thought that I was just like you; I will reprove you and state the case in order before your eyes.

Here is the turning point. The wicked man has been getting away with it, or so he thinks. God's patience, His long-suffering, has been misinterpreted. "I kept silent," God says. And what was the wicked man's conclusion? "You thought that I was just like you." This is the essence of idolatry: creating a god in our own image. The hypocrite worships a god who winks at sin, who doesn't mind a little corruption, who is as duplicitous as he is. He thinks God is a bigger, more powerful version of himself. But that silence is now broken. The hammer is about to fall. "I will reprove you," God declares. The time for quiet observation is over. God is now going to lay out the evidence, to "state the case in order before your eyes." The sinner will be forced to look at his sin, arrayed in all its ugliness, with no place to hide.

v. 22 “Now consider this, you who forget God, Lest I tear you in pieces, and there will be none to deliver.

This is a savage warning. God addresses them directly as "you who forget God." This is their fundamental problem. Despite all their religious talk, they have forgotten who God truly is. They have forgotten His holiness, His justice, His power. And so God gives them something to "consider," to think about very carefully. The consequence of forgetting God is not a mild slap on the wrist. It is to be torn in pieces, like a lion tears its prey. And when God's judgment comes in this way, there is no one who can deliver. No pastor, no friend, no denomination, no amount of good deeds can save you from the wrath of a holy God whom you have trifled with.

v. 23 He who offers a sacrifice of thanksgiving glorifies Me; And he who orders his way, I shall show the salvation of God.”

After the terrifying warning, the psalm ends with a gracious offer of the gospel. The way out is not complicated. It is twofold. First, true worship is defined. It is not about the number of animals slain, but about the posture of the heart. The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice is the one who truly glorifies God. This is the man who recognizes that everything he has is a gift, and his heart overflows with gratitude. Second, this grateful worship is tied to a transformed life. "He who orders his way" is the one who walks in righteousness, who sets his path according to God's Word. To this man, God makes a glorious promise: "I shall show the salvation of God." This is not salvation earned by ordering our way, but the salvation that is seen and experienced by the one whose heart has been changed by grace, resulting in a life of grateful obedience.


Application

This psalm is a bucket of ice water for any church that is becoming comfortable, respectable, and a little too pleased with its own orthodox vocabulary. It is a profound warning against the danger of letting our religion be something we talk about, rather than something we live.

First, we must examine ourselves. Do we have a right to take God's covenant in our mouths? Is our life consistent with our confession? It is easy to learn the jargon of Reformed theology, to talk about covenant and sovereignty, but to hate the daily discipline of repentance and obedience. We must ask if we are casting God's words behind us in any area of our lives, be it our finances, our sexual ethics, or how we speak about our brethren.

Second, we must tremble at the patience of God, and not mistake it for approval. God is silent for a season with much wickedness, both in the world and in the church. We must never make the fatal mistake of thinking that because judgment is delayed, it has been canceled. We must not create a god in our own image, a god who is comfortable with our pet sins. God is not like us. His holiness is a consuming fire, and the day is coming when He will state the case against all ungodliness.

Finally, we must embrace the glorious solution offered in the last verse. The way to glorify God is to offer Him thanksgiving. This is the heart of true worship. And the fruit of a thankful heart is a well-ordered life. When we are truly grateful for the salvation shown to us in Jesus Christ, we will desire to walk in a way that pleases Him. The gospel frees us from both the dead-end of hypocritical formalism and the terror of divine judgment. It brings us into a living relationship with God, where our mouths and our lives join together in a chorus of grateful praise.