Commentary - Psalm 69:1-4

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 69 is one of the most frequently quoted psalms in the New Testament, and for good reason. It is a raw, visceral cry from a man drowning in affliction, and in this cry, we hear the voice of the Messiah in His passion more clearly than almost anywhere else in the Psalter. David, as a type of Christ, is overwhelmed by treacherous waters, exhausted in his prayers, and surrounded by enemies who hate him without a cause. This is not simply the lament of a troubled king; it is a prophetic look into the heart of the Lord Jesus as He bore the weight of our sin and the unjust hatred of the world. The psalm begins with a desperate plea for salvation and lays out the nature of the psalmist's trouble, which is both overwhelming in its circumstances and unjust in its source. The central theme here is substitutionary suffering, culminating in the glorious gospel truth found in the last line of our text.


Outline


Context In Psalms

This is a psalm of David, and it falls within a collection of laments that express deep personal anguish while maintaining a firm trust in God. What sets Psalm 69 apart is the intensity of the suffering and the clarity of its messianic fulfillment. The New Testament writers saw this psalm as a direct prophecy of Christ's suffering. For instance, the cry about his zeal (v. 9) is applied to Jesus cleansing the temple (John 2:17), the offer of gall (v. 21) is fulfilled at the crucifixion (Matt. 27:34), and the statement about being hated without cause (v. 4) is quoted by Jesus Himself in the upper room (John 15:25). Therefore, we must read this psalm on two levels: as the genuine historical cry of David under intense persecution, and as the inspired, prophetic cry of the Son of David in the work of our redemption.


Key Issues


The Cry from the Mire

Save me, O God, For the waters have threatened my life. (v. 1)

The prayer begins with no preamble, no gentle introduction. It is a raw cry for help, born of desperation. "Save me, O God." This is the fundamental prayer of every sinner, and it is the prayer of the righteous man in distress. It acknowledges two foundational truths at once: first, that he is in a position from which he cannot save himself, and second, that God is the only one who can. The reason for this cry is that the waters have come up to his neck, threatening his very life. This is the biblical image of chaos, of judgment, of being utterly overwhelmed. Think of the great flood. The psalmist feels the forces of death and disorder closing in on him, and his only recourse is to cry out to the God who brings order out of chaos and life out of death.

I have sunk in deep clay, and there is no foothold; I have come into deep waters, and a flood overflows me. (v. 2)

He now elaborates on the metaphor. This is not clean water where one might tread for a time. This is "deep clay," or the mire of the pit. The more you struggle, the deeper you sink. There is no solid ground, "no foothold." All human effort is useless here. All self-reliance is swallowed up in the muck. This is a picture of absolute helplessness. This is where the law leaves a man, sunk in the mire of his own sin with nothing to stand on. And this is where Christ went for us. He descended into the pit, into the deep waters of judgment, and the flood of God's righteous wrath against our sin overflowed Him. He sank, so that we might be lifted out and placed on solid rock.

I am weary with my calling out; my throat is parched; My eyes fail while I wait for my God. (v. 3)

This suffering is not a brief affair. He has been crying out for a long time, to the point of physical exhaustion. His throat is raw and dry from his pleas. We hear an echo of our Lord on the cross, who said, "I thirst" (John 19:28). This is the physical manifestation of a deep spiritual agony. His eyes are failing, worn out from looking for a deliverance that has not yet come. But notice the last phrase: "while I wait for my God." Even in his exhaustion, even with his failing eyes, he has not turned them elsewhere. He is still waiting, and he knows who he is waiting for. It is "my God." This is the tenacity of true faith. It is not the absence of weariness, but the persistence of waiting on the Lord through it.

Those who hate me without cause are more than the hairs of my head; Those who would destroy me are powerful, being wrongfully my enemies; What I did not steal, I then have to restore. (v. 4)

Here the source of the floodwaters is revealed. It is the hatred of men. And this hatred is entirely unjust; it is "without cause." The Lord Jesus quotes this very line to His disciples, applying it to the world's hatred of Him (John 15:25). The world does not hate Christ because of some fault in Him; it hates Him because He is the light and the world is darkness. The enemies are not only malicious, but they are also numerous ("more than the hairs of my head") and strong ("powerful"). And then we come to the heart of the matter, the line that shines with the glory of the gospel: "What I did not steal, I then have to restore." David experienced this kind of rank injustice. But Christ fulfilled it perfectly. He, who was without sin, restored to God the glory that we had stolen through our sin. He paid a debt He did not owe, because we had a debt we could not pay. This is the great exchange. This is substitution. He was treated as the thief, so that we, the actual thieves, could be treated as the righteous Son.


Application

When we find ourselves in the mire, when the floodwaters of trouble, temptation, or persecution rise up to our necks, our first and only move must be to cry out, "Save me, O God!" We must abandon all pretense of having a foothold and recognize our utter dependence on Him. Our suffering as Christians will often feel unjust. We will be hated, like our Master, without a cause. The world will slander us and demand from us what we do not owe. In those moments, we must remember two things.

First, our sufferings are not atoning. Christ has already done that. He sank into the ultimate mire of judgment alone. We are united to Him, and so we share in His afflictions, but not in His atonement. Second, because He restored what He did not steal, our cries are now heard for His sake. He waited, His eyes failing, so that our wait would never be in vain. He was overwhelmed by the flood, so that we could be brought safely to the other side. Therefore, we can face the causeless hatred of the world with courage, knowing that the one who paid our immeasurable debt is the same one who holds us fast.