Psalm 52:6-7

The Last Laugh Text: Psalm 52:6-7

Introduction: Two Ways to Live

The book of Psalms begins by laying out for us the fundamental choice that confronts every man: there are two ways to live. There is the way of the righteous, the man who delights in the law of the Lord, and there is the way of the wicked, the chaff which the wind drives away. This is not a complicated business. It is the great continental divide of human existence. Every decision, every thought, every ambition flows either toward the City of God or toward the city of destruction.

Psalm 52 is a laser-focused depiction of this choice, embodied in two men: David, the man after God's own heart, and Doeg the Edomite, the treacherous informant who slaughtered the priests of Nob for King Saul. The superscription of the psalm gives us the historical backdrop. Doeg was a man who thought he was winning. He had the king's ear, he had a sword in his hand, and he was not afraid to use it against the Lord's anointed. He was a mighty man, a man of consequence in the failing regime of Saul. He trusted in his own cunning, in his willingness to do the dirty work, and in the political capital it would buy him.

But David, writing this psalm, sees the world through a different set of eyes. He does not see a mighty man; he sees a fool on a precipice. He sees a man whose strength is a vapor, whose riches are a snare, and whose end is destruction. And in our text today, David fast-forwards to the end of the movie. He shows us the final scene, where the righteous are gathered to watch the divine comedy unfold. And what is their reaction to the downfall of the proud and the wicked? It is not a somber, hand-wringing pity. It is fear, and it is laughter.

This is a kind of holy laughter that our sentimental, effeminate age has forgotten. We have been taught that to laugh at the downfall of evil is somehow un-Christian, that it lacks a certain therapeutic niceness. But the Bible knows nothing of this. The Bible is a book that is full of God's laughter, the laughter of triumph over His enemies. And He invites His people to join in. This is not the bitter cackle of personal revenge, but the joyous, liberating laughter of vindication. It is the laughter that comes when you see the cosmic joke finally revealed: the man who thought he was a god is shown to be nothing but a puff of smoke.


The Text

So that the righteous will see and fear,
And will laugh at him, saying,
“Behold, the man who would not set God as his strength,
But trusted in the abundance of his riches
And was strong in his destruction.”
(Psalm 52:6-7 LSB)

The Audience of Judgment (v. 6)

We begin with the reaction of the saints to God's judgment.

"So that the righteous will see and fear, And will laugh at him, saying," (Psalm 52:6)

Notice the first two reactions: sight and fear. "The righteous will see." God's judgments are not done in a corner. They are public spectacles. God intends for the downfall of the wicked to be an object lesson for the faithful. He wants us to watch. He wants us to pay attention when the towers of Babel come crashing down. Why? So that we will "fear."

This is not the cowering fear of a slave before a tyrant. This is the awe-filled, reverential fear of a child who has just seen his father, the king, dispense perfect, terrifying justice. It is the fear that says, "Our God is a consuming fire." It is the fear that purges all other fears. When you fear God properly, you cease to fear men like Doeg. Their threats, their boasts, their momentary power all shrink to their proper, pathetic size in the light of God's majesty. This fear is the beginning of wisdom, because it aligns our hearts with reality. It reminds us who is actually in charge of the universe.

But the reaction does not stop at a sober, fearful respect. They will also "laugh at him." This is where our modern sensibilities get snagged. We think of laughter as frivolous, or worse, as cruel. But Scripture presents holy laughter, or righteous mockery, as a weapon in the arsenal of the saints. God Himself sits in the heavens and laughs at the plotting of the nations (Psalm 2:4). Elijah mocked the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel, suggesting their god was perhaps on vacation or relieving himself. The issue is the object of the laughter. To laugh at the righteous is the act of a fool. To laugh at the fool who has defied God is to align yourself with God's own perspective.

This laughter is not a denial of the horrors of sin and judgment. It is an affirmation of the goodness and rightness of that judgment. It is the cheer that erupts from the crowd when the dragon is slain and the hero is vindicated. It is the deep, soul-cleansing joy that comes from seeing the moral architecture of the universe snap back into place. The righteous laugh because they see that God's Word is true, His justice is perfect, and His enemies are, in the final analysis, absurd.


The Fool's Epitaph (v. 7)

Verse 7 gives us the content of this righteous mockery. It is the epitaph spoken over the grave of the self-made man.

"Behold, the man who would not set God as his strength, But trusted in the abundance of his riches And was strong in his destruction." (Psalm 52:7 LSB)

The laughter is followed by an explanation. "Behold, the man..." Look here, everyone. Gather 'round and see the end result of this particular life philosophy. This is a cautionary tale, a museum piece of failed rebellion. And what was this man's central failure? He "would not set God as his strength."

This is the root of all sin. It is the creature refusing to depend on the Creator. It is a declaration of spiritual independence, which is another name for spiritual suicide. The wicked man, the Doeg, believes that strength is an internal resource. It is found in his cunning, his political connections, his ruthlessness, his bank account. He builds his life on the sandy foundation of self. But the righteous man understands that all true strength is derivative. It flows from God. To make God your strength, your fortress, your stronghold, is to build your house upon the rock.

Instead of relying on God, what did this man do? He "trusted in the abundance of his riches." Money is not evil. Riches can be a blessing from God. The problem is not the possession of wealth, but the trust in it. Jesus warned us that you cannot serve both God and Mammon. The rich fool in the parable is condemned not for having a good harvest, but for believing that his barns full of grain secured his soul. To trust in riches is a particularly insidious form of idolatry because it feels so practical, so secure, so tangible. But David says this trust is a fool's errand. Wealth makes a wonderful servant but a terrible god. It cannot buy off death, it cannot bribe the final Judge, and it cannot purchase a clean conscience.

And what was the result of this misplaced trust? He "was strong in his destruction." The Hebrew word for destruction here is tied to desire, lust, or ruinous craving. He found his strength in his own wicked desires. He was energized by his own capacity for ruin. Think of it. The very thing he thought made him strong, his willingness to betray, to slander, to murder for gain, was the very engine of his own undoing. His "strength" was the strength of a cancer cell, which multiplies and consumes with great vigor, only to kill the host upon which it depends, and thus itself. The wicked man's very ambition is the shovel with which he digs his own grave. He is strong, yes, but strong only in the art of self-destruction.


Conclusion: Where Is Your Trust?

So the psalm leaves us with this stark contrast. On the one hand, we have Doeg, the man who trusted in his wealth and his wickedness, and who became a public spectacle of divine judgment, an object of holy fear and righteous laughter.

On the other hand, in the very next verse, David declares, "But as for me, I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; I trust in the lovingkindness of God forever and ever" (Psalm 52:8). Doeg is uprooted and torn from the land of the living. David is a flourishing tree, planted in the very courts of the Lord. Doeg trusted in the abundance of his riches. David trusts in the lovingkindness, the hesed, the covenant loyalty of God.

This is the choice before every one of us. Where is your fortress? In what do you trust? Is your strength in your 401k, your resume, your reputation, your political tribe? Is it in your own cleverness, your own moral efforts? If so, you are building on the same foundation as Doeg the Edomite, and the end of that road is to become a cautionary tale. Your strength is simply your capacity for destruction.

But if you have abandoned all trust in self, if you have come to the end of your own resources and have cast yourself entirely on the mercy of God in Jesus Christ, then you have made God your strength. Jesus is the ultimate man who set God as His strength. He trusted His Father even unto death, and was raised in power. And when we are united to Him by faith, His strength becomes our strength. His righteousness becomes our righteousness. His victory becomes our victory.

And on that final day, when all the accounts are settled, we will stand with the company of the righteous. We will see the final downfall of all the proud men who trusted in themselves. And with reverence and awe, we will fear the Lord. And then, with joyous, liberated hearts, we will behold the man who would not have God as his strength, and we will laugh the laugh of the redeemed.