“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you” (James 1:5).
It’s a verse we all know and love. It seems to promise unbounded wisdom and that if we just ask for it, God will generously give it to us. But is that what this verse means?
Certainly, it is in God’s power to grant unbounded and universal wisdom to anyone he wishes, but does God really work that way? Put the question in human terms. If you walk into your local bank branch and tell the manager “I want a big loan, just give me money” – is the banker likely to help or will he or she ask “How much do you need and for what purpose?”
What we often miss in James’ words on asking for wisdom is their context. If we look carefully at the immediately preceding verses, we see James is writing about a very specific situation. He says: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4).
James’ context is one of persecution. He tells believers that trials can bring about spiritual maturity in which we do not lack anything needed to deal with such problems (vs. 4). But if we do lack wisdom – implying wisdom in dealing with matters of persecution and patience – we can ask God and he will help us.
Take another example – that of the archetypal story of God granting wisdom to King Solomon. When God appeared to Solomon and offered him anything he wanted, Solomon did not simply ask for wisdom. Notice his request to God: “give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of yours?” (1 Kings 7:9). Because Solomon asked for wisdom in a specific context – to do the work of ruling Israel – God was well pleased and granted him great wisdom (1 Kings 7:12, 29-34) as well as other blessings.
But we should remember that Solomon asked for the wisdom he needed in a specific situation. It is perhaps not surprising, then, that in the compositions believed to be written by Solomon, he often ties wisdom to particular contexts. Notice the wording of just one example: “Whoever obeys his command will come to no harm, and the wise heart will know the proper time and procedure” (Ecclesiastes 8:5). Here, we see wisdom relating to “proper times” and “procedures,” and in many of the proverbs of Solomon, wisdom is tied to other specific needs and circumstances.
So when we consider the wider biblical context, the words of James regarding wisdom become clear. God rarely, if ever, gives unneeded gifts. If we desire wisdom, his word indicates we should not ask to be funnel fed wisdom without specific purpose. But we can humbly take our needs to God and ask for wisdom in the areas of life where we need it in order to best fulfill his will and our calling – and then, as James affirms, God will gladly give it to us.
“My God … do not remain silent …Appoint someone evil to oppose my enemy; let an accuser stand at his right hand. When he is tried, let him be found guilty, and may his prayers condemn him. May his days be few; may another take his place of leadership. May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow. May his children be wandering beggars; may they be driven from their ruined homes. May a creditor seize all he has; may strangers plunder the fruits of his labor. May no one extend kindness to him or take pity on his fatherless children. May his descendants be cut off, their names blotted out from the next generation” (Psalm 109:1,6-13).
The so-called imprecatory psalms have a way of getting our attention. Their name comes from the verb “imprecate” which means “to invoke a curse upon,” as these compositions invoke judgement, punishment or curses on – and may even express hatred for – the individuals or groups they are directed against.
The psalms given this label include 5, 10, 17, 28, 31, 35, 40, 58, 59, 69, 70, 79, 83, 109, 129, 137, 139, and 140, though some of these compositions only contain a few verses of an imprecatory nature. But the extreme nature of the curses these psalms call down seems to be at total odds with Christ’s command that we love our enemies (Matthew 5:44). How are we to understand them then, as inspired compositions within the Bible as a whole?
Problematic Explanations
Apologists have tried to explain these psalms in various ways. The most common rationale for the assumed disparity between the curses of the imprecatory psalms and Christian attitudes is that psalms of this type belong to an “Old Covenant” dispensation and that they reflect a sub-Christian ethical standard that was replaced with the teachings of Christ. But this view fails to take into account the fact that Christ himself frequently quoted the imprecatory psalms (for example, Psalm 69 – quoted in Matthew 27:24, John 2:17, John 15:25, etc.) and the apostle Paul states that certain individuals should be “accursed” in a very similar manner (Galatians 1:8-9, etc.).
Another view is that the psalmist was simply stating what would happen to the wicked rather than wishing evil on them, and that these psalms were spoken in the “indicative mood,” explaining the punishment that would occur, and not in the “imperative mood,” commanding or requesting the punishment. But that theory does not fit the wording of a number of the psalms which make clear requests to God to destroy the offending individual or enemy.
Various other approaches suggest that the curses found in these psalms were “cathartic” for emotional or ritual cleansing or for release of frustration (we might say “blowing off steam”), or even just quoting other people’s words, but these and similar explanations are all unconvincing in trying to avoid the simple reality that the imprecatory psalms seem to be in direct contradiction to an attitude of forgiveness.
Ancient Legalities
There are two much more likely possibilities for understanding the imprecatory psalms. The first centers on the fact that in a great many of these compositions, there seems to be a background of some kind of accusation. For example, in Psalm 109 the curses (quoted at the beginning of this article) are preceded with the statement:
“… people who are wicked and deceitful have opened their mouths against me; they have spoken against me with lying tongues. With words of hatred they surround me; they attack me without cause. In return for my friendship they accuse me …” (Psalm 109:2-4 and see vs. 31).
In the same way, after reciting the curses of this psalm, the psalmist exclaims: “May this be the Lord’s payment to my accusers, to those who speak evil of me” (Psalm 109:20).
It is known that in many cultures of the ancient Near East curses were invoked on those who acted as false witnesses. If the imprecatory psalms follow this pattern, we should see their curses as the “legal boilerplate” of the day rather than as personal expressions of hatred or vengeance. This view is an attractive one in that many of the Psalms are known to utilize the specific religious and social vocabulary of their time.
Two Sides of the Same Truth
But although this understanding of the nature of the imprecatory psalms makes very good sense, there is also another and perhaps even better explanation for them – that their curses are exactly what they seem to be and that this need not, in fact, contradict the Christian ethic of forgiveness.
Viewed this way, the curses of the Old Testament reflect the psalmist’s firm belief in both God’s justice and his intolerance for sin. Taking this view, the biblical scholar Walter Kaiser wrote:
“To be sure, the attacks which provoked these prayers were not from personal enemies; rather, they were rightfully seen as attacks against God and especially his representatives in the promised line of the Messiah” (Hard Sayings of the Old Testament, Downers Grove, IL, 1988, p. 172).
This approach certainly fits a great many of the facts we have. In Psalm 109 – the example we have used throughout this article – the psalmist stresses that the attacks on him were not from enemies, but from friends who had falsely turned on him (Psalm 109:3-5). This is a common theme that the attackers who had turned on the anointed king equally displayed wickedness in their rebellion against God:
“Declare them guilty, O God! Let their intrigues be their downfall. Banish them for their many sins, for they have rebelled against you” (Psalm 5:10).
When we attempt, as Christians, to forgivingly love the sinner while hating the sin, this is very different from the situation in which David is, under inspiration, looking at the sin from the perspective of God’s judgment. That there is nothing “unchristian ” about this is seen in the fact that Christ himself essentially did the same thing in declaring “woe” on the scribes and Pharisees (Matthew 23:13-39) or on the inhabitants of Capernaum (Matthew 10:15), and that Paul quoted the imprecatory Psalm 69:22-23 in Romans 11:9-10 and he himself also leveled imprecation against certain individuals.
In his book Reflections on the Psalms (London and New York, 1958, p. 33), C. S. Lewis wrote: “The ferocious parts of the Psalms serve as a reminder that there is in the world such a thing as wickedness and that . . . is hateful to God.” This is perhaps the most realistic way to look at the imprecatory psalms – that they describe hatred for extreme sin and its practitioners at the level in which the two are not separated, which is completely different from the Christian approach of looking at individuals from the perspective of God’s love and willingness to forgive and thus separating the sinner from the sin.
Both approaches look at sin from God’s perspective, but one view – seen in the words of Christ and Paul as well as those of David – is based on God’s judgment, and the other (also seen in the words of Christ and Paul as well as those of David) is based on God’s mercy. As has often been said, we must not ever presume that one aspect of God’s character obliterates any other. The imprecatory psalms represent the justice of God’s ways just as the scriptural call to forgiveness represents his mercy.
* You can download a free copy of our e-book Spotlight on the Psalms – available in three versions for reading on computers or e-book readers here.
It is often said that pride – in the sense of self-elevation rather than what we call being “proud” of other people, such as our children, team, or school, etc. – is the worst of sins because self-oriented pride inevitably leads us to set ourselves up in the place of God. As has been wryly said, we become “self-made men or women who worship their creator.”
Pride of this type can manifest itself in many ways, but it invariably involves comparison – the way in which prideful individuals compare themselves to others. The Gospel of Luke gives a clear example of this problem in the parable of the self-righteous Pharisee and the socially despised tax collector:
To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” (Luke 18:9-14).
There are several not-so-obvious things that we should notice about this parable in relation to pride. While most Jews only fasted on the yearly Day of Atonement, the Pharisees added to the law of God by fasting before and after every annual festival throughout the year – or even more frequently. The Pharisee in the parable, however, claims to fast twice each week. This shows us the level of his pride in that he proclaims that he is even more devout than most of the Pharisees themselves.
But there is another aspect of the Pharisee’s behavior that reflects the nature of comparative pride. The parable tells us the actual words that the Pharisee prayed – indicating that he “said” these words out loud rather than “thought” them (compare, for example, Luke 12:17). Public prayers were made twice each day in the temple – at the times of the morning and afternoon sacrifices. At those times Jewish temple-goers would assemble in the “Court of the Israelites” directly outside the inner temple. First the priest would perform the sacrificial offering of the day and then he would enter the inner temple area to offer incense. It was at that point that the Israelites outside would pray, out loud, while the priest made the offering on their behalf (Luke 1:8-10).
When we realize that the Pharisee’s prayer was not thought, but spoken out loud, we see the deprecating nature of pride at its worst. By saying “God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector…,” the Pharisee publicly shamed the tax collector in order to enhance his own self-exaltation.
The situation described in the parable is a classic example of the way pride, in its worst form, puts down others in order to elevate oneself. C.S. Lewis described the phenomenon perfectly: “A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.” As a result, the Pharisee prayed but did not see or really communicate with God. That is why, Luke tells us, Jesus taught this parable “To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else” (Luke 18:9).
For most of us, pride is not expressed so blatantly or in such an obnoxious manner, but we must always be aware of the human tendency in this direction. Pride can often be found in even seemingly innocent comparison. That is why the apostle Paul wrote: “We do not dare to classify or compare ourselves with some who commend themselves. When they measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves, they are not wise” (2 Corinthians 10:12).
There are a number of tactics we can utilize to avoid this trap, but Paul himself gives us two that we can all put into use. First, as the apostle wrote to the Philippians: “in humility value others above yourselves” (Philippians 2:3), or, as the NKJV translates this verse: “in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself.” This is the most fundamental deterrent to pride of any type, but especially comparative pride.
Paul gives us another basic principle in his letter to the Galatians. “Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else” (Galatians 6:4). In writing this, Paul shows us that it is not wrong to be happy and thankful to have accomplished something or to have made progress toward our goals, as long as that is not done by comparing ourselves to others.
Ultimately, the worst kind of pride is avoided when our self-concept is based not on how we compare to others, but how we compare to what God calls us to. That is always a humbling thought and one that leaves no room for the growth of pride at all.
The Sermon on the Mount is a central part of the teachings of Jesus that we all know – it demonstrates the essential nature of the Christian way of life as much as any part of Scripture. Many of us have memorized parts of the sermon as found in Matthew’s Gospel (chapters 5-7), but how much time have we spent thinking about the setting of the sermon as opposed to the sermon itself? We tend to take for granted that the sermon was given on a mountain because we know that Jesus frequently climbed mountains (Luke 6:12, John 6:15, etc.) – though he usually did this to get away from people, to be alone and to pray. In this case we are told specifically that he went up on a mountain with his disciples following him.
The New International Version tells us “Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them” (Matthew 5:1-2). This gives the impression that Jesus simply went up on the side of a mountain – the lower slopes. But “side” is not in the original Greek (or in most translations), and the Greek anebē eis to oros “he went up into a mountain” conveys the sense that he ascended on to the mountain – certainly well up toward, or to, its summit. Now this wording is interesting, because when we compare it with the Old Testament account of how Moses went up onto Mt. Sinai to receive the law from God, we find “When Moses went up on the mountain …” (Exodus 19:3, 24:12). In fact, the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures which many of the writers of the New Testament used, translates this with exactly the same words as those used of Jesus ascending the mountain: anebē eis to oros.
Many Jewish readers of the 1st century would have recognized the beginning of this story of the Sermon on the Mount as being identical to the beginning of the story of Moses receiving God’s law. This would have struck a deep chord for those readers because every devout Jew knew that God had told Moses: “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their fellow Israelites, and I will put my words in his mouth. He will tell them everything I command him” (Deuteronomy 18:18). Every devout Jew expected this prophet like Moses, and the similarities between Jesus and Moses were clear for those ancient readers who knew the Hebrew Scriptures.
For example, the infant Moses and Jesus both escaped death when a ruler attempted to kill the male Jewish children in the area, both hid in Egypt as a child, both gave up life in a kingly home to lead a humble life of service, both fasted forty days and nights, both communicated directly with God, both performed miracles, both provided the people with bread to eat, both sent out 12 individuals, both chose 70 individuals, both taught with authority – and both ascended a mountain for the giving of key commands and instruction from God.
With that background in mind, we can see the significance of the fact that throughout the first third of the Sermon on the Mount, the law of Moses is mentioned repeatedly, using the formula “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago …. But I tell you ….” For example:
“You have heard that it was said to the people long ago ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment” (Matthew 5:21-22, and see also Matthew 5:27, 31, 38, 43).
Within the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus made it clear to his followers that he was not doing away with or replacing the principles of the law given through Moses (Matthew 5:17-19). Instead, in this pivotal sermon – the longest connected teaching of Jesus in the New Testament – he gave new insight into those principles, raising our understanding of their intent to the higher level to which we are called.
How many times, if ever, have you heard someone say “white and black” for “black and white” or “potatoes and meat” instead of “meat and potatoes”? There are unwritten laws of how we speak, and even though we don’t consciously think about them – and no one ever really taught them to us – we say what we have heard others say and what sounds natural to us. We say “Ladies and gentlemen” and never “gentlemen and ladies,” even though we say “men and women,” not “women and men.” In the same way, it’s always “bread and butter,” “thunder and lightning,” or “highs and lows” – never the other way around.
In some expressions we can see a certain kind of logic in the way we place one word before another – as with time order (“cause and effect,” “crime and punishment,” etc.); most important first (“bread and butter,” “fish and chips,” etc.); better first (“good and bad,” “pros and cons,” etc.). But often there is no seeming reason for putting one word before another, yet it’s always “salt and pepper,” “cloak and dagger” – and countless other expressions where we naturally place one before the other.
The clearest example of this kind of unwritten law of what we say is probably found in pairs of words containing the letter “I” where we always put the “I” first. That’s why we always say “hip hop” and not “hop hip,” or “tittle-tattle” and not “tattle-tittle,” “flip-flop” and not “flop-flip,” “drip-drop” and not “drop-drip,” etc. It’s hard to think of an exception to this tendency – we put “I” before other letters in dozens of pairs of words probably for no other reason than it seems natural, easy, and comfortable to us.
The actions in our lives can be a lot like that, too. Although we may not consciously think about it and were never taught to do so, we tend to place “I” before other people in our interactions and relationships. We may not mean to do so, but we often just naturally stress our own needs before those of others whether it is in the grocery store, or driving on the roads, in office meetings, or in talking with friends. In countless ways we all tend to put “I” first. It’s just the natural thing to do.
But the Bible turns life around in this regard and shows us that it is actually a whole lot better to resist what comes naturally in our attitudes and actions towards others. For example, the apostle Paul reminds us that we should “count others more significant than yourselves” (Philippians 2:3), and that is definitely an attitude of putting others before ourselves.
It’s one of the most basic principles of Christianity, but especially in difficult times of social upheaval and difficulties – when we may be particularly tempted to put our own needs ahead of those of others – we have to make a conscious effort not to place the naturally preferred “I” first.
When supplies are short in stores, when people are tempted to hoard more provisions than they actually need at this time, Paul’s continuing advice applies more than ever: “Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4).
It may be natural to put ourselves first, but Christianity calls us to a much better way in which we do not do things because they are the “natural” thing to do – but the way that ultimately is the best for us and for everyone else.
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