God's War, God's Victory Text: Psalm 108:7-13
Introduction: The Geography of Sovereignty
We live in a time that is terrified of sharp distinctions and absolute claims. Our age is allergic to authority, particularly divine authority. Modern man wants a god who is a celestial guidance counselor, a vague spiritual influence, but not a conquering king. He wants a god who suggests, not a God who decrees. He wants a deity who will bless his autonomous projects, but who will not dare to claim absolute ownership of all things. But the God of Scripture is not this tame, neutered deity. He is the Lord of Heaven and Earth, and He speaks with absolute, world-defining authority. He does not negotiate; He declares.
This latter half of Psalm 108 is one such declaration. It is a divine war cry. It is a geography lesson in the absolute sovereignty of God. David, having fixed his heart on praise in the first part of the psalm, now rehearses the bedrock foundation for that praise: God's own promise, God's own declaration of ownership. This is not David's wishful thinking. This is not a political manifesto cooked up in the war room. This is David quoting God. "God has spoken in His holiness." Everything that follows is a direct consequence of this unshakeable reality.
We must understand that for the ancient world, a god's territory was the limit of his power. Chemosh was the god of Moab, Dagon the god of the Philistines. Their authority stopped at the border. But Yahweh, the God of Israel, is not a local deity. He is the Creator of all things, and therefore the owner of all things. This psalm is a thunderous polemic against every petty tyrant and every false god. God is not just claiming Israel; He is claiming the right to dispose of Israel's enemies as He sees fit. He is parceling out the nations like a man arranging furniture in his own house. This is offensive to the modern mind, which believes in the self-determination of all peoples, but the Bible teaches the absolute determination of the one true God over all peoples.
And this is not just ancient history. This is a pattern of how God works. He speaks, He claims, He possesses, and He conquers. He does this first with the land of Canaan, and He does it ultimately with the entire world through the gospel of His Son. This psalm, therefore, is a lesson in how to think about our own battles. We are tempted to look at the strength of the enemy, the fortified cities of unbelief, and to despair. We are tempted to trust in our own armies, our own strategies, our own political solutions. But this psalm calls us back to the only sane starting point: "God has spoken." If God has spoken, then the outcome is not in doubt. The only question is whether we will believe Him and act accordingly.
The Text
God has spoken in His holiness: "I will exult, I will portion out Shechem And measure out the valley of Succoth. Gilead is Mine, Manasseh is Mine; Ephraim also is the helmet of My head; Judah is My scepter. Moab is My washbowl; Over Edom I shall throw My shoe; Over Philistia I will make a loud shout." Who will bring me into the well-defended city? Who will lead me to Edom? Have You, O God, not rejected us? And will You, O God, not go forth with our armies? Oh give us help against the adversary, For salvation by man is worthless. Through God we shall do valiantly, And it is He who will tread down our adversaries.
(Psalm 108:7-13 LSB)
The Divine Proclamation (v. 7-9)
The foundation of everything is God's own speech. David is not boasting; he is quoting.
"God has spoken in His holiness: 'I will exult, I will portion out Shechem And measure out the valley of Succoth.'" (Psalm 108:7)
God speaks "in His holiness." This means His word is set apart, it is utterly reliable, it is pure, and it is backed by the full force of His character. God's holiness is the ultimate guarantee. He has sworn by Himself, because there is no one greater to swear by. And what is the first thing this holy God says? "I will exult." God takes joy in His work. He rejoices in His sovereign plan. This is not a reluctant duty; it is a triumphant celebration. Creation and redemption are the overflow of God's joy.
He then begins to name the territories. Shechem and Succoth are significant. They are on both sides of the Jordan River, representing the whole of the promised land. Jacob stopped at both places when he returned to the land. By naming these specific, historical places, God is saying, "This is not a vague, spiritual promise. I am talking about real dirt, real valleys, real property." He will "portion out" and "measure out" these places. This is the language of a surveyor, a landowner who has absolute authority over his property. He is not seizing it; He is distributing what is already His.
The declaration of ownership continues, this time with the tribes of Israel.
"Gilead is Mine, Manasseh is Mine; Ephraim also is the helmet of My head; Judah is My scepter." (Psalm 108:8)
Gilead and Manasseh were prominent tribes on the east side of the Jordan. Ephraim and Judah were the dominant tribes on the west. Together, they represent the strength and leadership of the entire nation. God says they are "Mine." They belong to Him. But He doesn't just own them; He employs them for His purposes. Ephraim, known for its military strength, is His "helmet." It is His defensive power. Judah, the tribe from which the kings would come, is His "scepter." It is the instrument of His royal rule. The tribes of Israel do not have their identity or purpose in themselves. Their strength and their authority are derivative. They are instruments in the hand of God, for the accomplishment of His kingdom purposes.
Having claimed His own people, God now turns His attention to the surrounding nations, Israel's enemies. And the language shifts from ownership to utter contempt and subjugation.
"Moab is My washbowl; Over Edom I shall throw My shoe; Over Philistia I will make a loud shout." (Psalm 108:9)
This is divine trash talk, and it is glorious. Moab, a proud and idolatrous nation, is reduced to a piece of pottery. A "washbowl" was a common, dirty vessel used by a master to wash his feet. God is saying that Moab is nothing more than a basin for His dirty water. This is the ultimate humiliation. Edom, another ancestral enemy, is treated with similar disdain. To throw one's shoe over a piece of property was an ancient sign of taking possession. But it's more than that. It carries the connotation of a master coming home, kicking off his dusty sandals, and tossing them to a slave for cleaning. Edom is the shoe rack. Philistia, the perennial military threat, will be the object of a triumphant shout of conquest. God will not just defeat them; He will roar over them in victory. These nations, which seemed so formidable to Israel, are nothing to God. They are household items, pieces of furniture to be used and discarded as He pleases.
The Human Dilemma and Divine Dependence (v. 10-12)
After rehearsing God's triumphant proclamation, the psalm takes a sudden, jarring turn. The perspective shifts from God's declaration to David's present reality. The confidence of God's promise clashes with the difficulty of the current situation.
"Who will bring me into the well-defended city? Who will lead me to Edom?" (Psalm 108:10)
David looks at the promise and then looks at the problem. The promise is that Edom is his shoe rack. The problem is that Edom is currently a "well-defended city," likely Petra or Bozrah, fortresses carved out of rock. The promise is sure, but the fulfillment is hard. This is the tension of the Christian life. We have the promises of God, but we are faced with fortified cities of sin in our own hearts and in the world around us. The question, "Who will bring me in?" is a confession of inability. David knows he cannot do it on his own.
This leads to the raw, honest cry of the next verse.
In verse 11, David voices the fear that lies at the heart of Israel's struggle.
"Have You, O God, not rejected us? And will You, O God, not go forth with our armies?" (Psalm 108:11)
This is a stunning question. It appears that God's actions have not been matching His promises. Israel has experienced defeat. It feels as though God has "rejected" them, that He is no longer going out to battle with them. This is the crisis of faith. What do you do when the reality on the ground seems to contradict the promise in the Book? What do you do when you feel abandoned by God? David does the right thing. He takes his complaint directly to God. He doesn't grumble behind God's back. He asks the hard question to God's face. This is not unbelief; it is the wrestling of faith. It is the necessary prelude to true dependence.
This honest struggle leads to the foundational conclusion of verse 12.
"Oh give us help against the adversary, For salvation by man is worthless." (Psalm 108:12)
Here is the turning point. The experience of defeat, the feeling of rejection, has burned away all self-reliance. David has been driven to the only correct conclusion: human solutions are vanity. "Salvation by man is worthless." Our military strategies, our political alliances, our economic power, our clever arguments, all of it is empty, futile, and useless when we are facing the fortified cities of the enemy. The word is "vain." It is a puff of smoke. This is a truth we must learn, and God in His mercy will often orchestrate our circumstances, allowing us to fail, precisely so that we will learn it. He will let us see the worthlessness of our own efforts so that we will finally turn to Him for help.
The Covenantal Conclusion (v. 13)
The psalm ends not in despair, but with a declaration of resolved, dependent faith. Having acknowledged his own weakness and the vanity of human strength, David now states the principle of all spiritual warfare.
"Through God we shall do valiantly, And it is He who will tread down our adversaries." (Psalm 108:13)
Notice the glorious paradox here. It is a perfect statement of the relationship between divine sovereignty and human responsibility. "Through God we shall do valiantly." God does not do it for us while we sit on the couch and watch. Nor do we do it for Him in our own strength. We act, but we act "through God." We are the instruments, but He is the power. We fight, but the victory is His. We are called to be "valiant," to act with courage and strength and excellence. But the source of that valor is not in our blood or our training, but in Him.
And the ultimate outcome is left in no doubt. "It is He who will tread down our adversaries." David ends where he began, with the sovereign action of God. God promised to possess Edom, and God will be the one to crush Edom. Our part is to believe the promise and to act valiantly in the strength He provides. His part is to accomplish the victory. This is the pattern for every Christian endeavor. We preach the gospel, but He saves the sinner. We raise our children in the fear of the Lord, but He regenerates their hearts. We fight against sin, but it is He who sanctifies us. We engage the culture, but it is He who will bring all His enemies under His feet.
This is the great comfort and the great commission of the Christian life. Because salvation by man is worthless, we are freed from the crushing burden of having to save ourselves or the world. But because through God we can do valiantly, we are freed for the glorious task of acting as His agents, His soldiers, His scepter, and His helmet in this world. He has spoken in His holiness. Therefore, we can go forth in His strength, to take possession of the territory He has already declared is His.