Psalm 62:1-4

The Only True Vertical: A Study in Soul Stability Text: Psalm 62:1-4

Introduction: The Noise of the Horizontal

We live in a world of constant noise. I am not speaking simply of the auditory racket, the traffic and the notifications and the endless chatter, though that is certainly part of it. I am speaking of a deeper, more insidious noise, the noise of the horizontal. This is the clamor of human opinions, the buzzing of threats, the whisper of flatteries, the shouting of political saviors, and the constant, frantic scramble for position and approval. Our souls are besieged by a million horizontal inputs, all demanding our attention, our allegiance, and our fear.

The modern man, and tragically, the modern Christian, often tries to find his stability in this horizontal plane. He seeks his salvation from the political commentator, his rock is his 401k, and his stronghold is his reputation among men. But this is to build your house on the surface of a churning sea. The horizontal is a realm of constant flux, of lies, of shifting alliances, and of ultimate vanity. To look for stability there is to guarantee you will be, as David says here, a leaning wall, a fence thrust down.

Into this cacophony, Psalm 62 speaks with a quiet, revolutionary, and vertical confidence. David, a man who knew the noise of the horizontal better than any of us, a man beset by assassins, traitors, and flatterers, shows us the secret to unshakable stability. He turns the gaze of his soul ninety degrees. He looks up. This psalm is a master class in cultivating a soul that is anchored in God alone. It is about finding the one true vertical in a world gone horizontal. It is a declaration that our stability, our salvation, and our identity are not subject to a vote. They are not determined by our enemies or our friends. They are fixed in the unchanging character of God.

This is not a psalm for a quiet afternoon in a monastery. This is a battle psalm. It is a wartime psalm. It is for the man whose enemies are actively counseling to thrust him down, who is surrounded by the duplicity of those who bless with their mouths and curse in their hearts. In other words, it is a psalm for us. It is a psalm for Christians living in a world that is increasingly hostile to our King and therefore hostile to us. And the central lesson is this: the only way to stand firm against the horizontal assault is to be completely and utterly dependent on the vertical reality of God.


The Text

Surely my soul waits in silence for God;
From Him is my salvation.
Surely He is my rock and my salvation,
My stronghold; I shall not be greatly shaken.
How long will you assail a man,
That you may murder him, all of you,
Like a leaning wall, like a fence thrust down?
Surely they have counseled to thrust him down from his high position;
They find pleasure in falsehood;
They bless with their mouth,
But inwardly they curse. Selah.
(Psalm 62:1-4 LSB)

The Upward Gaze of the Soul (v. 1)

David begins with a declaration of radical, focused dependence. This is the foundational posture of the believer.

"Surely my soul waits in silence for God; From Him is my salvation." (Psalm 62:1)

The word "surely" or "truly" that bookends these first two verses is a stake in the ground. It is an affirmation of settled conviction. This is not a hopeful wish; it is a statement of fact. David is not trying to convince himself; he is reminding himself of what he already knows to be unshakably true. My soul's waiting is for God, and for God alone.

And how does it wait? "In silence." This is not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of attention. It is the quieting of all the other voices, all the horizontal noise, in order to hear the one voice that matters. It is a deliberate refusal to be distracted by the threats of enemies or panicked by the instability of circumstances. The soul that is chattering away, constantly reacting to the latest outrage or the newest fear, cannot wait on God. It is too busy waiting on CNN or Twitter. To wait on God in silence is an act of spiritual warfare. It is to say to the world, "You are not my source. You are not my savior. You do not have the final word."

And why this silent waiting? Because "From Him is my salvation." Salvation here is not just a ticket to heaven. It is deliverance, rescue, victory, and wholeness in the here and now. David's enemies are trying to murder him (v. 3), but his deliverance does not come from a better strategy, a stronger army, or a cleverer political maneuver. It comes from God. This is the fundamental confession of faith. If your salvation, in any ultimate sense, comes from your political party, your financial security, or your personal cleverness, then your soul will wait on them. And it will be a noisy, anxious, and fruitless waiting. But if your salvation is from God, you can afford to be silent. You can afford to be still. The issue has been settled in a higher court.


The Divine Bedrock (v. 2)

Having established the posture of his soul, David now declares the character of the One on whom he waits.

"Surely He is my rock and my salvation, My stronghold; I shall not be greatly shaken." (Psalm 62:2 LSB)

David piles up metaphors of stability. God is his rock. A rock is immovable, solid, a foundation upon which to build. In the ancient world, it was a place of refuge from armies and storms. God is not like a rock; He is the rock. He is the objective, external reality that does not change, regardless of how we feel or what our enemies plot.

He is his salvation. This echoes the previous verse, but it is now personalized. Not just "salvation is from Him," but "He is my salvation." Our deliverance is not an abstract concept or a force that God sends; it is bound up in His very person. To have God is to have salvation.

He is his stronghold, or high tower. This is a defensive image. A stronghold is a place of safety from attack, a place where you are lifted above the fray. When the enemy comes, the man of God does not simply stand his ground on the rock; he is lifted up into the fortress of God's own being. He is untouchable.

Because of this threefold reality, rock, salvation, stronghold, the conclusion is logical and certain: "I shall not be greatly shaken." Notice the realism here. He does not say, "I shall not be shaken at all." We are still creatures of dust. The horizontal pressures are real. We may be jostled. We may feel the tremors. But we will not be "greatly shaken." We will not be toppled. Our foundation is secure. The man whose hope is in God is like a buoy in the ocean. It may be tossed by the waves, it may be battered by the storm, but it is anchored to the seabed. It cannot be moved from its position.


The Horizontal Assault (v. 3)

After establishing his vertical security, David now turns his attention to the horizontal threat. He describes it with a mixture of exasperation and confidence.

"How long will you assail a man, That you may murder him, all of you, Like a leaning wall, like a fence thrust down?" (Genesis 62:3 LSB)

He addresses his enemies directly. "How long?" There is a weariness in this question, but also a taunt. How long will you persist in this futile effort? You are all ganging up on one man, seeking to murder him. The picture he paints is of a pack of bullies trying to push over something they perceive as weak and unstable, "a leaning wall, a fence thrust down."

This is how the world sees the man of God. They see his quiet confidence, his refusal to join in their frantic power games, as weakness. They think he is already leaning, already compromised, and that one good push will bring him down. This is the constant miscalculation of the ungodly. They assess strength and stability on purely horizontal terms, by the standards of this world. They cannot see the vertical anchor. They cannot see the rock. They think they are pushing against a leaning wall, but in reality, they are pushing against a mountain.

David's question is rhetorical. He knows they will continue their assault as long as God permits. But by describing their efforts in this way, he is exposing their folly. They are wasting their energy on an impossible task. They are trying to knock over a man who is held up by the God of the universe.


The Anatomy of Godless Opposition (v. 4)

In verse 4, David dissects the character and tactics of his enemies. This is a crucial diagnostic for the church in every age.

"Surely they have counseled to thrust him down from his high position; They find pleasure in falsehood; They bless with their mouth, But inwardly they curse. Selah." (Genesis 62:4 LSB)

First, their goal is demotion. "They have counseled to thrust him down from his high position." The man of God has an excellency, a dignity, bestowed upon him by God. This infuriates the ungodly. Their primary goal is to strip him of this honor, to bring him down to their level, to see him covered in the same mud they are. This is driven by pure envy. Cain hated Abel because his own deeds were evil and his brother's righteous.

Second, their method is deceit. "They find pleasure in falsehood." They love lies. They traffic in slander, misinformation, and propaganda. They do not just use falsehood as a reluctant tool; they take pleasure in it. This is a mark of deep-seated depravity. When a man loves lies, he has aligned himself with the father of lies. Truth is an offense to him, because truth points to God. Therefore, the man who stands for truth becomes his natural enemy.

Third, their manner is duplicity. "They bless with their mouth, But inwardly they curse." This is the rotten core of so much of what passes for civility in our world. It is the politician who smiles for the camera while plotting his opponent's destruction. It is the academic who speaks of tolerance while working to de-platform anyone who disagrees. It is the false brother who offers words of encouragement while secretly hoping for your failure. This is the way of the world. Their blessings are hollow, and their curses are sincere. The Christian must be aware of this. We are called to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. We must not be naive about the treachery that lurks behind a smiling face.

And then, "Selah." This is a pause. A moment to reflect. A musical notation, perhaps, for the instruments to swell. Stop and think about this. Consider the stability of God. Now consider the pathetic, deceitful, and ultimately futile machinations of the ungodly. Let the contrast sink in. Let it steady your soul. Selah.