The Great Exchange: Burdens for Stability Text: Psalm 55:22-23
Introduction: The Treachery Within
We come in this psalm to a raw and honest anguish. This is not the cry of a man beset by foreign armies or distant enemies alone. The particular venom in this psalm comes from the fact that the affliction is caused by treachery. It was a man, David’s equal, his guide, his acquaintance, who did this to him. They used to take sweet counsel together and walk to the house of God in the throng. This is the sting of a close wound, the kind that festers. It is one thing to be shot at by a declared enemy; it is another thing entirely to be stabbed in the back by a friend.
This psalm is likely set during the revolt of Absalom and the damnable counsel of Ahithophel, David’s trusted advisor. This was a profound and personal betrayal that shook the kingdom to its foundations, but more than that, it shook the king himself. David speaks of his heart being in anguish, of the terrors of death falling upon him, of fear and trembling. He wishes for the wings of a dove so he could fly away and be at rest. This is not the language of a stoic philosopher; it is the honest cry of a man undone by grief and the malice of one he trusted.
And it is in this crucible of personal betrayal that we find our text. After pouring out his complaint, after describing the wickedness of his enemies, after praying for God’s judgment to fall upon them, David turns. He pivots from the problem to the solution. He turns from the horizontal treachery to the vertical faithfulness of God. And in so doing, he gives us a command, a promise, and a stark, eternal contrast. Our passage is the resolution to the great problem of being a righteous man in a world filled with smooth-talking, bloody-minded traitors. What do you do when the world gives way beneath your feet? What do you do when the one who ate your bread has lifted his heel against you?
The answer is not to be found in cynicism, or in building higher walls around your heart. The answer is found in a great and glorious transaction. It is a divine exchange. God offers to take our burdens, and in return, He gives us His stability.
The Text
Cast your burden upon Yahweh and He will sustain you;
He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.
But You, O God, will bring them down to the pit of corruption;
Men of bloodshed and deceit will not live out half their days.
But I will trust in You.
(Psalm 55:22-23 LSB)
The Divine Invitation (v. 22a)
The psalm pivots here on this great command, this gracious invitation.
"Cast your burden upon Yahweh and He will sustain you..." (Psalm 55:22a)
The word for "burden" here is a fascinating one. It refers to what has been given to you, your allotted portion or lot. This is not just the bad stuff. It is everything. It is your whole life, your circumstances, your calling, your family, your successes, your failures, and yes, the crushing weight of betrayal by a close friend. It is whatever God, in His meticulous providence, has assigned to you. We are not being told to simply offload our troubles, but to hand over our entire lot in life to Him.
And the verb is "cast." This is an active, decisive word. It is not "gently place" or "timidly offer." It is a heave. It is the motion of a man throwing a heavy sack off his shoulders. This requires an act of the will. Trust is not a passive feeling of vague goodwill toward God. It is a rugged, disciplined, and sometimes desperate decision to transfer the weight from your own back to His. You must do the casting. God does not come and pry your fingers off the load you insist on carrying. You must let it go.
This is a direct assault on our pride and our central sin of autonomy. We want to be in control. We think, foolishly, that we are running the universe, or at least our small corner of it. And when things go wrong, when the betrayal comes, our first instinct is to grab the controls tighter, to figure it out, to manage the crisis. But God’s invitation is to do the opposite. It is to abdicate. It is to confess that the burden is too heavy, that we are not adequate for the task, and to hand the entire business over to Him. This is the essence of faith.
And what is the result? "He will sustain you." He doesn't promise to remove the burden from the situation, but He promises to carry you through it. He sustains you in the trial. The word means to nourish, to support, to provide for. God puts His own infinite strength underneath you. The circumstances may not change immediately, but your relationship to them is revolutionized. You are no longer under the burden; you are on top of it, held up by the God who upholds the cosmos by the word of His power.
The Unshakeable Promise (v. 22b)
The verse continues with one of the most comforting promises in all of Scripture.
"He will never allow the righteous to be shaken." (Psalm 55:22b LSB)
This is an absolute. "He will never allow." The Hebrew is emphatic. For all time, He will not permit it. This does not mean the righteous will never feel the earth tremble. David certainly did. His heart was in anguish, and he was full of fear. This is not a promise of a life free from turmoil, anxiety, or the feeling of being shaken. It is a promise that you will not be ultimately shaken. You will not be moved from your foundation. You will not be overthrown. Your feet are on the Rock, and while the winds and waves may batter you, the Rock will not move.
Who are the righteous? In the first place, this refers to the one who is in a right covenant relationship with God. In the Old Testament, this was the faithful Israelite. In the New Testament, this is the one who has been declared righteous through faith in Jesus Christ. Our righteousness is not a flimsy, homespun garment of our own good deeds. It is the imputed, alien righteousness of Christ Himself. We are righteous because He is righteous, and we are in Him. Therefore, this promise is as secure as Christ is secure.
To be shaken is to be dislodged, to be overthrown, to have your standing with God revoked. And God says this will never happen. The plots of men, the treachery of friends, the malice of the devil, the weakness of your own heart, none of it can move you from your place in Christ. You are held fast. This is the great doctrine of the perseverance of the saints, rooted right here in the Psalms. God will not let you go. Your stability is not based on the strength of your grip on Him, but on the strength of His grip on you.
The Great Reversal (v. 23a)
Now the psalmist turns his attention from the security of the righteous to the destiny of the wicked. The contrast is stark and severe.
"But You, O God, will bring them down to the pit of corruption..." (Psalm 55:23a LSB)
While God is sustaining the righteous, holding them up, He is simultaneously casting the wicked down. This is the great reversal that Scripture speaks of constantly. The proud will be abased, and the humble will be exalted. The men David is concerned with are "men of bloodshed and deceit." They live by violence and lies. Their words are smoother than butter, but war is in their hearts. They think they are ascending, building their little kingdoms on treachery and slander.
But God sees it differently. Their whole lives are a slow, inexorable descent. God Himself will "bring them down." Their fall is not an accident. It is a divine judgment. And their destination is "the pit of corruption." This is Sheol, the grave, the place of destruction. It is the logical and just end for a life built on lies. A life of deceit is a life that is fundamentally at odds with reality, because God is reality. To fight against God is to fight against the very structure of the universe, and the universe always wins.
This is not vindictive gloating on David’s part. It is a statement of theological fact. It is an appeal to God’s justice. If God is just, then there must be a reckoning. There must be a distinction made between the one who casts his burden on the Lord and the one who makes himself a burden to others. If there is no ultimate justice, then our faith is a silly game. But there is, and God will not be mocked. What a man sows, that will he also reap.
The Brevity of the Wicked (v. 23b)
The judgment is not only certain, it is also swift in the grand scheme of things.
"Men of bloodshed and deceit will not live out half their days." (Psalm 55:23b LSB)
This is a general principle of divine providence. A life of violence and treachery is a life that is inherently self-destructive. The wicked are so clever, so sure of their schemes, but they are always cutting the branch they are sitting on. Their sin eats them alive. They spin their webs of deceit, and end up catching themselves in their own nets.
Now, we can all think of some wicked old scoundrel who lived to be ninety. This is a proverb, not a mathematical formula. It describes the way the world generally works under God’s government. A life of sin is a high-risk life. But more than that, it speaks to the quality of their life. Even if their life is long, it is a truncated, hollowed-out existence. They do not live out "their days" in the sense of fulfilling the purpose for which they were made. Their life is a wasted, abbreviated thing, cut short of all meaning and goodness, regardless of its chronological length.
From God’s perspective, their time is short. They have their little moment on the stage, full of sound and fury, but their end is coming. This is a great comfort to the righteous. We are not to fret when the wicked prosper. Their prosperity is a greasy slide into the pit. Their time is running out.
The psalm concludes with the simplest and most profound declaration of faith.
"But I will trust in You." (Psalm 55:23c LSB)
This is where it all lands. After the pain, the prayer, the imprecation, and the promises, it comes down to this. "But I." This is the personal application. This is David planting his flag. In contrast to the bloody and deceitful men, in contrast to their short and cursed lives, "I will trust in You."
This is the final answer. The world is full of Ahithophels. Friends will betray you. Circumstances will overwhelm you. Your own heart will fail you. What is the anchor in this storm? It is a settled, resolute, unwavering trust in the character and promises of the covenant-keeping God. Trust is the backbone of the Christian life. It is the engine and the fuel. It is the beginning, the middle, and the end. And it is a choice. David does not say, "I feel trusting." He says, "I will trust." It is a verb. It is a commitment.
Conclusion: The Ultimate Betrayal and the Unshakeable Trust
This psalm is David’s, but it points beyond him. The ultimate righteous man, betrayed by his trusted friend, was the Lord Jesus Christ. Judas, who dipped his hand in the dish with Him, sold him for thirty pieces of silver. The words of this psalm find their deepest fulfillment in the garden of Gethsemane and on the cross of Calvary.
And what did Jesus do? He cast His burden upon Yahweh. "Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit." He entrusted Himself to the one who judges justly. He went down into the pit of corruption for us, bearing the full weight of our sin and rebellion. And because He did, God highly exalted Him. He did not allow His Holy One to see corruption.
Because of what Christ has done, we are invited into this same pattern of life. We will face betrayals. We will be wounded. We will be tempted to despair. And in those moments, we have a choice. We can carry the burden ourselves, which will crush us. Or we can do what David did, and what David’s greater Son did. We can cast our entire lot, our whole life, our deepest wounds, upon our faithful Father. He will sustain us. He will not let us be shaken. And He will, in His time, bring all our enemies to nothing.
Therefore, look at the contrast. The wicked are brought down to the pit. But the righteous are sustained. The wicked will not live out half their days. But the righteous will never be shaken, for all eternity. It all comes down to that final, glorious, defiant declaration. Let this be our response to every trial, every betrayal, and every fear: "But I will trust in You."