Prayers for the King (Thoughts on Psalm 72)
Photo by Alyssa Marie
In times of political transition or turmoil, when Christians are searching for an appropriate and faithful response, it is common for a couple of lines from New Testament epistles to be dropped on the table with rather resounding thuds. The first is from Paul: “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment” (Rom. 13:1–2, NRSV). Next comes Peter’s voice: “For the Lord’s sake accept the authority of every human institution, whether of the emperor as supreme or of governors, as sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to praise those who do right. For it is God’s will that by doing right you should silence the ignorance of the foolish. As servants of God, live as free people, yet do not use your freedom as a pretext for evil. Honor everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God. Honor the emperor” (1 Pet. 2:13–17).
Like a mic drop, these texts are sometimes thrown down as conversation stoppers, as if these fragments of apostolic exhortation were the sum total of the biblical witness about Christian responsibility to the polis. Aside from the fact that the mic drop approach often does not pay attention to the context—both literary and historical-cultural—of these exhortations, it also does not situate them within the larger canonical voice of Scripture’s Story, which is much more nuanced. Consider just a few examples—the clear anticipation of royal abuse in Deuteronomy 17; the ambivalent treatment of Israel’s request for a king so that they could “be like other nations” (1 Samuel 8); the deeply critical portrayal of monarchs in 1 and 2 Kings, where they figure as the primary target of prophetic invective; and the overturning of popular notions of royal power in the person and work of Jesus, the One who enters Jerusalem on a donkey (the Gospels) and who reigns now as the Crucified Lamb (Revelation). Likewise, the “political theology” of the Church across the centuries is varied and nuanced; as a starting point for further exploration, I recommend Augustine’s City of God and James K.A. Smith’s 21st-century reflections on Augustine and his interpreters in Awaiting the King: Reforming Public Theology (Baker Academic, 2017).
This essay, however, is not about political theology. I want to explore a very practical pastoral implication that is raised by the “mic drop” passages, no matter what may be the larger package of assumptions about “Christians and politics” that accompany the use and reception of those texts. In other words, no matter who is wielding the words of Paul and Peter or for what purpose, and no matter what political convictions are held by those who read or hear them, an important question of praxis is raised by these apostolic exhortations. This is the matter of prayer: How should followers of Jesus pray for those who have the positions and power of governance over them? The same Paul who urged submission to governing authorities in Romans also insisted to Timothy that “supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity” (1 Tim. 2:1–2). No matter how we understand what it means to live out Paul’s command to submission and Peter’s exhortation to honor the emperor, this instruction to pray for rulers is quite clear and unequivocal. Nevertheless, the question that plagues many believers, especially when the ruler du jour is someone they find hard to respect or admire, is how? What does it look like to pray for a person who has a position of authority over us? Psalm 72 gives us some help in answering that question.
This psalm is associated with King Solomon, and its opening lines may very well be a prayer that David lifted up for his son and successor: “Give the king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to a king’s son” (v. 1). The starting point for this prayer is not Solomon but God—“let the king have your justice, your righteousness.” The ensuing prayer of blessing follows an interesting pattern, one that may help us as we pray for our own leaders. First, the focus is on the king’s character, the ways that God’s own qualities of justice and righteousness are recognizable in the king’s person and actions. Only then, after praying for the king’s character, are petitions lifted up for the king’s success in military or political spheres. This is suggestive for us as we pray for our leaders (whether admirable or difficult to respect): The first and primary focus of our intercession for them is that they may be godly people.
For leaders who self-identify as followers of Jesus, then, our prayers for them are the prayers we lift up for any brother or sister in Christ: for the sanctifying grace of God to be actively at work in them and for their full collaboration with the Spirit in their sanctification. We pray that they will be empowered and strengthened by the Holy Spirit, that Christ will dwell in their hearts through faith, that their roots will go down deeply into God’s love, that they will experience the love of Christ in all its fullness, depth, and breadth, and that they will know the fullness of a life powered by God (Eph. 3:16–19). We ask God to fill them with spiritual wisdom and insight, so that they may know him better (Eph. 1:17). We intercede for the fruit of the Spirit in them, that they may increase daily in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22–23). We ask God to grow their capacity to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with him (Mic. 6:8). And we pray that they will meditate daily on God’s Word, delighting in it and being formed, reformed, and transformed by it (Psalm 1).
What about leaders who make no pretense of being followers of Jesus or are perhaps even inimical towards Christianity? Same goal, different starting point! We pray for the prevenient grace of God to be actively wooing them toward himself. We ask that they would turn in repentance, so that the image of God in them, tarnished and distorted by sin, would be restored by the justifying grace of God. And we pray for both kinds of leaders—those who claim the Name of Jesus and those who don’t—with audacious optimism (to borrow a phrase from Kevin Watson), confident that God is able to sanctify the one and save the other in ways that gloriously exceed all that we can ask or imagine (Eph. 3:20).
Returning to Psalm 72, how does this psalm of intercession for the king understand a royal character that truly reflects the justice and righteousness of the King of kings? Verse 2 generalizes it as judging “your people in righteousness, your afflicted ones with justice” (NIV). This is then particularized in verse 4: a king whose character reflects God’s character will “defend the cause of the poor, give deliverance to the needy, and crush the oppressor.” The same set of qualities and actions are highlighted again in verses 12–14, where the king is portrayed as the helper of the needy, the poor, the weak, and the oppressed. The Hebrew word translated “help” most often describes God himself—thus, the king is to act toward the vulnerable under his care in the same ways that God acts toward Israel.
The psalm ends by returning the focus to where it began: God himself (vv. 18–19). This move ensures that there will be no misplaced confidence in human leaders, even as we honor them and pray blessing over them. The extravagant terms of this prayer were never fulfilled in a human king (certainly not in King Solomon, just take a look through 1 Kings 4–11). But the good news is that they are fully on display in King Jesus, in whom dwells all the righteousness and justice of God (Col. 1:15–20). Amen and amen (Ps. 72:19)!
Rachel Coleman is affiliate professor of Biblical Studies at Asbury Theological Seminary, profesora adjunta de Nuevo Testamento for United Theological Seminary, and the regional theological education coordinator (Latin America) for One Mission Society. She serves on Firebrand’s Editorial Board.