Psalm 51: The Depth of Divine Mercy

It would be hard to overemphasize the importance of Psalm 51 in the history of Christian spirituality. In Dante’s Divine Comedy it is referred to by simply citing its first word, miserere (“have mercy on me”).[1] Or consider its place in the Liturgy of Hours. This is the cycle of prayers that is obligatory for priests and religious but is also said by many lay persons. Its basic structure is built around a four-week rotation of Psalms. None of them are repeated except for Psalm 51, which is read every Friday morning.

Why on Friday, you might ask? Because Friday is the day that Christ died on the cross to secure our salvation. And that salvation is not bestowed without our consent and participation in the larger arc of divine love that it represents. This Psalm perfectly suits its Friday morning setting because it invites us to ponder the unfathomable depth of divine mercy and to seek forgiveness for those moments in our own lives where we have fallen short of what living the good life requires.

I would like to examine the text of this Psalm to uncover what it has to say about the forgiveness of sins. To accomplish this, I will divide my exposition into two parts. In the first part, I will take a look at the significance of the title that is attached to the Psalm. In the second, I will examine a few key verses in the body of the Psalm that pick out important moments in David’s own cycle of confession and penance.

The Title of the Psalm

Let us begin by considering the title itself: “To the choirmaster. A Psalm of David. When Nathan the prophet came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.” The first thing that needs to be said is that titles such as this one were attached to the Psalms near the end of the process of the composition of the book. In other words, the Psalms originated as anonymous compositions. They were written in a generic fashion so that they could be prayed by a wide variety of persons. The original form of our Psalm would have begun with the line: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy steadfast love.” And not coincidently, that is the way the psalm begins in the Liturgy of Hours as well. In other words, it eliminates the title as well so that the prayer can become ours as well as David’s.

A good place to turn to see how prayers like this work would be to examine the prayer that Hannah says near the beginning of the book of 1 Samuel. When we first meet Hannah, she is a woman beset by tragedy. Though happily married to a kind and dear man named Elkanah, she is not able to become pregnant. It so happened that her husband’s second wife, Peninah, used this as the occasion to taunt her and make her life miserable. In grief, she turned to the Lord in prayer and subsequently found favor in his eyes and was granted a child. In gratitude for this act of divine mercy, Hannah uttered her famous prayer of thanksgiving:

My heart exults in the LORD;
my strength is exalted in the LORD.
My mouth derides my enemies,
because I rejoice in thy salvation.

² “There is none holy like the LORD,
there is none besides thee;
there is no rock like our God.

³ Talk no more so very proudly,
let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the LORD is a God of knowledge,
and by him actions are weighed.

⁴ The bows of the mighty are broken,
but the feeble gird on strength.

⁵ Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger.
The barren has borne seven,
but she who has many children is forlorn.

⁶ The LORD kills and brings to life;
he brings down to Sheol and raises up.

⁷ The LORD makes poor and makes rich;
he brings low, he also exalts.

⁸ He raises up the poor from the dust;
he lifts the needy from the ash heap,
to make them sit with princes
and inherit a seat of honor.
For the pillars of the earth are the LORD’s,
and on them he has set the world.

⁹ “He will guard the feet of his faithful ones;
but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness;
for not by might shall a man prevail.

¹⁰ The adversaries of the LORD shall be broken to pieces;
against them he will thunder in heaven.
The LORD will judge the ends of the earth;
he will give strength to his king,
and exalt the power of his anointed.”

(1 Sam 2:1-10).[2]

As many scholars have noted, the words of this prayer do not quite fit the context. For example, in verses one and four (rendered in bold above), she expresses praise to God for a military victory over an enemy. What’s more, she mentions God giving strength to a king in v. 10 (again, in bold), but in Hannah’s time the monarchy had not yet been established.

Why then, one might ask, has Hannah prayed this prayer? Because the major theme of the psalm is a dramatic reversal of fortune. And this reversal is described in verse 5 (in bold) in terms of a barren woman who became pregnant: “The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn.” In other words—and here is my main point—not every image in the psalm fits Hannah’s condition, but the general tone is close enough to make it altogether apt and fitting.

What we can learn from this is that prayer in the Bible was often formalized, not simply extemporaneous. When individuals sought the Lord in prayer, they did so by drawing from a set of existing compositions. To be sure, these prayers were chosen on the grounds of a perceived fit with one’s particular predicament. But because they were written by others, the fit would not be exact. As a result, readers of these prayers should not attempt to make each word fit the context of the one who prays. It is often the general “atmosphere” that fits rather than every detail.

The same thing holds true for the Psalm titles. When we read the title attached to Psalm 51, (“When Nathan the prophet came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba”) we should not conclude that David was the author of the words that follow. Either these words were adopted by David in the moment of his deep contrition, or a later editor of the Psalter thought these were words that would have been fitting for David to say. On the former view, David actually prayed this Psalm; on the latter, the Psalm was thought to match what David might have said.

I am partial to the second explanation for a couple of reasons. First, we are rather certain that the titles were added to the Psalter rather late in the day and do not go back to the life of David himself. But more important than this historical observation is a second, more theological, point. Someone thought that David’s moment of contrition was not simply a matter of embarrassment for Israel’s first “true” king but provided a profound teaching opportunity.

It is worth noting that not all biblical authors sought to emphasize the ill-fated decisions of this illustrious king. For instance, the book of Chronicles—a later retelling of the events in Samuel and Kings—famously omits this episode in its account of David’s reign.[3] One might assume that the editors responsible for the final form of the Psalter could have done the same; after all, most Davidic psalm titles portray him as a righteous “suffering servant.”[4] Why, then, did the biblical editors choose to give such prominence to these compromising actions?

To answer that question, I think we need to look at the editorial development of the figure of Manasseh, which occurred at roughly the same time. Manasseh, as you may recall from the book of Kings, was the most heinous sinner in the line of kings who descended from David’s loins. Yet in the book of Chronicles, he became a consummate penitent.[5] What was the purpose of such a transformation? I think we can find the answer in a non-Biblical text called “The Prayer of Manasseh.” I might add as an aside that Thomas Aquinas cited this document with authority in his Summa Theologica[6] and the Orthodox, to this day, read this text during the season of Lent. So, though it is not strictly part of the Bible, it has played an important role in Christian prayer and theology.

According to the author of this composition, while King Manasseh was undergoing the first wave of punishments for his sins, he turned to God in prayer. And this is what he said:

Therefore thou, O Lord, God of the righteous, hast not appointed repentance for the righteous, for Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, who did not sin against thee, but thou hast appointed repentance for me, who am a sinner. For the sins I have committed are more in number than the sand of the sea; my transgressions are multiplied, O Lord, they are multiplied! I am unworthy to look up and see the height of heaven because of the multitude of my iniquities. . . . I earnestly beseech thee, forgive me, O Lord, forgive me! Do not destroy me with my transgressions! . . . For thou, O Lord, art the God of those who repent and in me thou wilt manifest thy goodness; for, unworthy as I am, thou wilt save me in thy great mercy, and I will praise thee continually all the days of my life. For all the host of heaven sings thy praise, and thine is the glory forever.

The audacious move in this prayer is Manasseh’s claim that God Almighty has something to gain from forgiving him (“and in me thou wilt manifest thy goodness”). For what praise can God accrue if he only forgives the righteous; they will not put his measureless mercy on display. But should God forgive a sinner like Manasseh, then all will turn to him in praise to acknowledge the unfathomable depth of his mercy! A former villain of untold proportions has become an exemplar of a pious penitent. Why? In order to illustrate that God’s mercy has no bounds.

I would suggest that the same holds true for the decision to put the Psalter’s most conspicuous penitential prayer in the mouth of King David. If the actions of this king—including his shameless act of adultery followed by an act of premeditated murder—can be forgiven, then anything we do, however evil it may appear, can fall under the umbrella of God’s merciful care.

I like to link this Psalm title to a question that Peter poses to Jesus: “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven (Matt 18:21-22). If this saying represents the breadth of divine mercy—i.e. forgiveness extending to nearly an infinite repetition of one’s mistakes—then Psalm 51 gives testimony to its depth—forgiveness is possible even for our most heinous actions.

I think this explains why Psalm 51 possesses the prominence it does in the liturgical life of the Church. We pray it every Friday morning in order to recall the astounding character of the salvation wrought for us on the Cross. If David could be forgiven for the sins of adultery and murder, then certainly our lesser faults can be forgiven as well.

The Words of David’s Prayer

Let us turn now to the second part: an examination of a couple portions of our Psalm that can profitably be compared to the story of David and Bathsheba. Already in verses 3 and 4 we find verses that seem to relate very closely to David’s predicament.

³ For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.

⁴ Against thee, thee only, have I sinned,
and done that which is evil in thy sight,
so that thou art justified in thy sentence
and blameless in thy judgment.

In these lines some significant claims are made. They begin with a general confession: David knows his transgression. He is not trying to evade or hide it. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church points out, this is the first step in the process of reconciliation. We need considerable courage to acknowledge our wrongdoing. If we turn to the story told in 2 Samuel, we will see that David confesses his wrongdoing immediately after being rebuked by the prophet Nathan. There is no gap between rebuke and the admission of guilt. This should be compared to a comparable moment in Saul’s life when he is confronted by the prophet Samuel. In Saul’s case, the words of confession take much longer to emerge. Indeed, it would be fair to say his contrition only emerges after being forced into a corner by the prophet. Saul’s sense of contrition is not nearly as well-trained as that of David.

But then David’s problem goes even deeper. His sin is not simply a transgression against other human beings, but its gravity is such that it has also offended God. Indeed, the language is stronger than that—God is truly the only aggrieved party. This particular detail also fits the context of Nathan’s rebuke. For as soon as the prophet has identified David as a sinner (2 Sam 12:7), he describes his sin not in terms of adultery or murder but rather as an offense against “the word of God” (v. 9). We can see in this Psalm that David has taken this rebuke to heart and confesses the even deeper gravity of his crime.

But Nathan’s rebuke of David is not limited to pointing out his sin. He also takes care to outline the punishments that will ensue. David, for his part, does not contest the justice of these punishments; rather he willingly accepts them as his due. We find a similar attitude in the words of our Psalm: “thou art justified in thy sentence // and blameless in thy judgment” (v. 4b). St. Augustine nicely summarizes David’s attitude toward the punishment that will be forthcoming:

Sometimes when God means to forgive someone in the world to come, he corrects that person in this world. Remember David’s case. He had been told through the prophet, “Your sin is forgiven” (2 Sam 12:13), yet the calamities with which God had threatened him because of that sin still fell upon him. His son Absalom waged a bloody war against him, and humiliated his father in many ways. David walked in sorrow, humiliated and distressed; and so submissive was he to God that he regarded all his woes as just punishments from God, confessing that no part of what he suffered was undeserved. Already he had an upright heart, with which God was not displeased . . . He recognized his guilt and embraced his punishment, seeking God’s glory and not his own. He praised the Lord for whatever good fortune he had, and he praised the Lord for what he was suffering.[7]

The second portion of the Psalm that I would like to examine is verses 10 to 12.

¹⁰ Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and put a new and right spirit within me.

¹¹ Cast me not away from thy presence,
and take not thy holy Spirit from me.

¹² Restore to me the joy of thy salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

Two things are worth highlighting here. First of all, the plea that God not “take away his holy spirit” (v. 11) suggests that David’s words to this point have been inspired by God’s spirit. This is no small matter. When our hearts our moved to contrition over our sins this is a sign that God’s spirit is already working within us. When we decide to confess our sins this should not be viewed as a “good work” that we can wave around and attribute to our moral virtue alone. No, God’s spirit is already working within us, goading our conscience to action. As St. Augustine wisely says:

Sins are pleasing to an unclean spirit, displeasing to a holy spirit. So, although you are still imploring pardon, from another point of view you are already united with God, because you are disgusted with the evil thing you have done; and so what is displeasing to him is displeasing to you as well. That makes two fighting against your illness—you and the doctor. Confession of sin and the will to punish sin cannot be present in any of us by our own doing; and so when we are angry with ourselves and find ourselves displeasing, it can happen only by the gift of the Holy Spirit.[8]

Secondly, the plea that God “create in me a clean heart” and “put a new and right spirit within me” reflects David’s commitment to amend his ways and become a better person. This, I believe, is one of the most profound elements of what the Bible wants to teach us about the forgiveness of sins. When God punishes a sinner, the point is not the balancing of some set of scales that are external to God’s own person and being, as though there is an independent “karmic” principle at work in the universe to which God is beholden. Punishment, rather, is always ordered to the rectification of what is broken within us. In a word, David can accept the terms of punishment that will come because he is assured that through those trials his soul will be purified and his person made whole. And once that has happened, he can again take part in “the joy of thy salvation” (v. 12), which is the final telos or goal of every human life.

Conclusion

The most important point I have made concerns the title of our Psalm. The most tragic moment in David’s life has been immortalized in this particular Psalm for a very important reason: not even this most egregious sin falls outside the arc of divine mercy. We can turn to God in confession with the confidence that if we are truly contrite, God can begin the work of repairing our soul. But maybe we can say a little more. There is a Jewish tradition that asserts that the penitent sinner finds greater favor with God than the righteous man. This preference likely stems from the precarious boundary between genuine righteousness and self-righteousness. While the latter risks moral complacency, the abject sinner understands that standing before God is possible only through grace. Consequently, their reliance upon and obedience to the Divine becomes absolute. A figure like Manasseh or King David is imagined to have travelled so deeply into their sins that only the power of God can bring them back up.

We have also seen that the body of the Psalm possesses its own depth of insight and a close reading will reward the careful reader. Among the nuggets we have culled is the need to accept the consequences that follow from our sinful actions even as they are forgiven (“thou art justified in thy sentence and blameless in thy judgment”) and the recognition that the punishments that follow upon our sinful actions are not part of some impersonal “karmic” process, a sort of crude “balancing the books” sort of procedure. No, when God steps forward to discipline a sinner the purpose is always purifying and restorative.

EDITORIAL NOTE: This essay is adapted from the first installment of the McGrath Institute’s six-part Lenten Illuminating Scripture series, which you can watch in its entirety below.

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