To the rulers.

¹⁰ The righteous will be glad when they are avenged,
when they bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked.

¹¹ Then men will say,
"Surely the righteous still are rewarded;
surely there is a God who judges the earth."

(Psalm 58:10-11)

Finding myself the sole attendant at our nightly prayer meeting on Monday, I scrolled through my Bible and found myself face-to-face with Psalm 58. Ever since, I've been reflecting, mulling over these verses.

Even a preliminary read-through reveals the stark and gory tone of Verse 10, contrasting even with the angry and intense need seeping throughout David's repeated cries for divine retribution against his persecutors. The image - a man rejoicing in his enemy's maiming and thorough slaughter, dabbling his feet in the carnage - is shocking. Horrific. This isn't your grandmomma's Bible (actually, it probably is - I've discover that grandmommas can be shocking and wonderfully incisive individuals).

Being honest, part of me recoils to read these verses. Even as I worked my way through them again, my mind squirmed - wriggling left and right to find a way to excuse, to write off these words, anything to distance myself from their utter gore, the naked anger and vengeful bloodthirst that roars from the lines.

But there simply isn't a convenient answer. To write them off as uninspired, merely human, ungodly, calls into question what I hold most dearly, most truly Good: that the Bible is, in its entirety, precisely the fantastical sort of artifact or relic of which dreams and stories boast, around which epics are constructed and over which kingdoms were wagered. It is such, precisely because at its core it is the inspiration and mind of God brought into language, in the very same way that Jesus Messiah is the person of God brought into human flesh.

But then what? If the Bible is inspired - for every reader, in every context - then there must be something in these words for me: "The righteous will be glad when they are avenged, when they bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked." Should I, then, look forward to divine vengeance being called down upon my enemies - to the slaughter of all who have wronged and slighted me?

I don't think so.

¹ Do you rulers indeed speak justly?
Do you judge uprightly among men?

² No, in your heart you devise injustice,
and your hands mete out violence on the earth.

(Psalm 58:1-2)

The word translated above (in the NIV) rulers is only found twice in the entire Bible, and once - here - in its content (the other is the title of Psalm 56).

Variously translated gods, congregation, or judges, this word implies a silent host - the root is a word, silenced or made dumb - of distant and careless men passing judgment arbitrarily, with no thought in mind to the well-being of either accuser or accused. By referencing these judges with this term, the question answers itself:
do they speak justly? Do they judge uprightly? No!

They are, in fact, not judges at all: for, as verse 2 continues speaking, these men "devise injustice... mete out violence on the earth." These men are, in fact, anti-judges: rather than prescribing all that is Good and Just, they pronounce hatred, evil, violence - wickedness.

The men being addressed by David are thugs, plain and simple. And evil, whether through physical might or instead the subtleties of political, economic, or social power, is not content in merely wallowing in its own depravity. Hatred is no more than a cheap perversion of love: and, as love desires another beside itself to serve, sacrifice for, and rejoice in, hatred finds its depressive slyness most low and darkly attractive when there is someone whom it can oppress. In addressing these wicked rulers, David implicitly notes the presence of a third party in the equation: the oppressed.

So, from the very first verse of this Psalm, there are two parties: the evil men, silently and wantonly immoral, to whom David addresses himself; and their oppressed.

In which group do we find the righteous?

It's not an enormous leap of logic to see that David is identifying the righteous with the oppressed. Having been oppressed, these righteous men do and will cry out to a Heavenly Judge - and find Him, in the end (Verse 11), not silent on the subject of the farce of justice that has been contrived by the wicked judges. As the True Judge comes forth, the wicked judges will be crushed, dismantled, maimed - and the righteous will rejoice, their sufferings not forgotten, but transformed into victory over their oppressors.

Who am I?

Having this revelation, you would think that my curiosity over these verses would have been satisfied. But rather to the contrary, I instead found myself rather discomforted. The source of the discomfort being, I found, this uncomfortable inquiry: to which of these parties do I belong?

After all, while I would love to identify myself with the righteous (who wouldn't?), I don't know if I can honestly do so. If, as I suspect, David is equating the righteous with the oppressed - and the wicked, conversely, with the oppressors - I don't know if I can in any clear conscience label myself as the former. While I have been slighted - hurt - even, perhaps, abused - I cannot say that I find myself the victim of some grand scheme of social, political, or religious neglect. I have no impotent rage, no tears of frustration and soul-shaking indignation at the wrongness of the world around me. My parents are not slave labor, living in a heap of waste; my sister has not been kidnapped to be raped; I am not being forced to kill, to labor, to die. Unlike the majority of the world's population, I - at least, at the moment - am not being conned, manipulated, coerced, or exploited to a gross degree.

But if I am not being oppressed.... then is it possible (is it?) that I am the oppressor?

Am I the one whose money is being funnelled - whether through taxes, discretionary spending, or the corporations providing my daily needs - into entities and companies whose actions are destroying the lives, bodies, and dignity of the oppressed? Am I - in my Nike shoes and Levi's belt, using my Toshiba computer and eating my McDonald's burgers - telling men and women that I'm OK, they can go ahead and use that underage labor, destroy small businesses, and corrupt entire countries' water tables, clean air, and forests?

I don't know if I am. I pray that I am not - but I fear that I am. And thinking this, reading through Psalm 58 again, I shudder. Because the True Judge is coming, and His coming is certain; and when He comes, He will judge the earth - He will bring Justice to the oppressed and oppressor alike.

Do I find myself on the side of the oppressed, the hurt, the poor - the victorious, the saved, the redeemed?

Or am I, too, yet another one of those who abuse, exploit, commodify - the wicked, the oppressors, the ones at whose downfall their enemies will rejoice and heaven will say, now all is made well

I shudder, and I pray.