Psalms 70
The Text
Someone is running out of time. That is the first thing you hear, before any theology, before any name for God: the gasp of a man who cannot wait, who begins mid-sprint with a verb of urgency, "Hurry, God, to deliver me." Behind him are people who want him dead, and worse than their knives is their laughter, that mocking "Aha! Aha!" he can already hear in his head. So he prays three things in five verses: let the hunters stumble over their own shame, let everyone who actually seeks God break out in gladness, and let God come to me, now, because I am poor and needy and I have nothing left to bargain with. The psalm does not end in rescue. It ends in asking: "Yahweh, don't delay."
The Core
What makes this prayer theologically serious is that it never explains itself. There is no confession of innocence, no catalogue of merits, no argument that the sufferer deserves intervention. The only credential offered is lack: "But I am poor and needy." In the Psalms that pairing is almost a technical term, the standing description of the person with no leverage in a world run by leverage, no patron, no militia, no money, nothing but a claim on God's character. And the psalm assumes that this is enough, that emptiness itself is an argument God honours. That is grace in its oldest form, long before Paul gave it a vocabulary: God binds himself to those who bring nothing. Notice too what the prayer wants for others, not vengeance exactly but exposure, the mockers turned back by the weight of their own shame, and the God-seekers given something to sing about. The psalmist's rescue and God's public reputation are the same event.
The Common Thread
The line that lingers is the taunt: "Aha! Aha!" It is the sound of a crowd that has decided a man is finished and finds it funny. Centuries later another poor and needy man hangs on a Roman beam while the passers by wag their heads and improvise jokes about his God. The Gospels do not quote Psalm 70, but they hardly need to; the scene is the psalm walking on two legs. And there the prayer goes unanswered in the only way the psalmist meant it. God delays. The mockers are not turned back that afternoon. What the resurrection does is not cancel the delay but outlast it, so that the person praying this psalm today prays it as someone whose representative has already been through the silence and come out the far side. "Hurry" is not a word Christians have outgrown. It is a word Jesus has prayed first.
The Mirror
You know the laughter. Maybe it is the colleague who repeats your failed proposal in meetings with a particular inflection, or the family member who brings up your worst year at every gathering, or simply the voice in your own skull doing the mockers' work for them at three in the morning. What this psalm refuses to let you do is dress yourself up before you pray. No explanation of why you deserve help, no spiritual résumé, no waiting until the panic has been tidied into something more presentable. "But I am poor and needy" is not humility as a posture; it is a statement of fact from a man with nothing left. The psalm also refuses self-pity, because it keeps looking sideways at the people who seek God and asks that they be glad. Today: say verse one out loud, alone, in your own voice, as a sentence about the thing you are actually afraid of. Out loud, not in your head.
The Detail
"Let God be exalted." It sits oddly in a prayer this frantic, like a hymn breaking out in an emergency room. Notice who says it: not the psalmist. He asks that the God-seekers "continually say" it, while he himself is still gasping "don't delay." He is not able to sing yet, so he arranges for others to do it on his behalf. There is something enormously practical in that. When your own prayer has shrunk to one word, you can still want the choir to keep going, still want somebody somewhere to be glad in God this morning even if it cannot be you. The psalm quietly teaches that faith can be held in common, that the congregation's praise covers the gap where yours has gone silent.
Context
Psalm 70 is almost word for word the closing section of Psalm 40, lifted out and set on its own with a liturgical heading that marks it as a memorial offering. Someone took the desperate ending of a longer thanksgiving psalm and made it a standalone cry for the sanctuary. That tells you something about how Israel used its prayer book: not as a museum of David's moods but as a set of borrowed words, cut and refitted for whoever needed them next. The world behind it is one of patronage and public honour, where a man destroyed in reputation was destroyed in fact, where "Aha! Aha!" from the right people in the city gate could end a family. To be "poor and needy" there meant standing outside every network of protection. The only patron left was Yahweh.
The Question
So does hurrying work? The psalm has no final verse where God arrives. It ends on "don't delay," and the silence after it is part of the text. Anyone who has prayed this way about a diagnosis or a marriage or a child knows that God's timetable is not negotiated by the intensity of our asking. The honest thing to say is that Scripture never promises speed; it promises presence and eventual vindication, which is a harder gift to hold. What the psalm does give is permission to keep saying the word anyway. The prayer that God come quickly is not a failure of faith to be outgrown. It is faith with its hands open, refusing to pretend that waiting is easy and refusing to stop asking.
Reflection
Whose laughter, specifically, do you hear when you read "Aha! Aha!" and what have you done with it so far?
When your own praise has gone quiet, whose gladness in God are you willing to let stand in for yours?
Go deeper in Psalms
Hand picked books that unpack this Bible book further.
A daily Advent devotional for December 1 to 25, guided by the book of Luke. Twenty-five readings trace one promise from David's tent to the manger,...
On the night before He died Jesus told frightened friends He was going first and there would be room. Fourteen short chapters on John 14-17 for any...
A year of daily devotions through every psalm, ideal alongside your reading.
Psalms 1-72 (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries)
Kidner's crisp notes have helped generations pray the psalms.
Faith.network earns a small commission on Kobo purchases made through these links, at no extra cost to you. It helps keep the studies free.
Frequently asked questions about Psalms 70
Quick answers to the most common questions about this Bible passage.
What does Psalms 70 mean?
What is Psalms 70 about?
What is the historical context of Psalms 70?
What does Psalms 70 teach us about God's character?
How is Psalms 70 still relevant today?
What the community shares on Psalms 70
Insights, prayers and thanksgivings from readers and the editorial team on this passage.
David is in a hurry in this psalm. "Make haste to help me, Yahweh," he begs, enemies at his heels. And right there, mid panic, he prays this: "Let all those who seek you rejoice and be glad in you."
He wants others glad before he himself is safe. Can you pray for someone else's joy while still waiting on your own rescue?
But I am poor and needy." David doesn't dress it up. He says it out loud, then in the same breath, "You are my help and my deliverer." Notice he never stops being needy; he just stops being alone in it. And that last line, "Yahweh, don't delay," tells you something beautiful: God can handle your impatience. You don't have to pray calmly to pray honestly.
Explore this passage at a different level
Beginner, theologian, or a different reading length? Adjust the settings and generate your own version.
Open in the study tool







