Psalm 11: The Face That Rebuilds Foundations
“When the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?” (English Standard Version). This is not David’s despair; it is the anxious counsel of friends who urge, “Flee like a bird to your mountain.” Psalm 11 is a contest between two architectures: fear builds private refuges; faith stands under the public throne of God.
When advisors tell you to run In Israel, justice sat at the city gate on stone benches archaeologists still uncover (Dan, Beersheba). These were society’s “foundations”—law, truth, covenant fidelity. When those collapse under hidden violence—“they shoot in the dark at the upright in heart” (English Standard Version)—the survivalist instinct says, “Retreat.” David answers, “In the LORD I take refuge” (English Standard Version). The Hebrew is settled and stubborn: “In YHWH I have taken refuge” (a completed stance). He will not build a private mountain when Zion’s King is enthroned.
The court above the chaos “The LORD is in his holy temple; the LORD’s throne is in heaven” (English Standard Version). Before Solomon’s stone Temple, Israel already confessed a cosmic Temple. In the Ancient Near East, idols had painted eyes to “watch.” Israel’s God has living eyes. “His eyes see; his eyelids test the children of man” (English Standard Version). The phrase “his eyelids test” is startlingly intimate. In Hebrew (aph’apav yivchanun), God is pictured as squinting like a jeweler—bringing the metal close, discerning the flaw. The verb bachan is an assayer’s word (cf. Psalm 17:3). Trials are not God losing control; they are God refining a people who will stand when every other foundation fails (1 Peter 1:6–7).
The severe kindness of testing “The LORD tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence” (English Standard Version). Augustine heard here the steady music of the City of God: empires shake, but the throne does not. Calvin called the “foundations” the moral order by which a commonwealth breathes. Testing is not divine suspicion but covenantal love refusing to leave us brittle. The same gaze that exposes the violent steadies the upright.
Two cups, two winds “Let him rain coals on the wicked; fire and sulfur and a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup” (English Standard Version). The Masoretic Text opens with pachim—“snares”—and many retain that reading: God rains traps on the trap-makers. Either way, the imagery reaches back to Sodom (Genesis 19:24) and forward to Isaiah’s “cup of wrath” (Isaiah 51:17). Note the word “portion” (menath): in Psalm 16 the Lord is the believer’s cup; here the violent drink the desert wind (ruach zil’aphoth), a sirocco that strips life. And yet the gospel whispers through: Christ took the cup we earned, so we might receive the face we could not earn (Mark 14:36; Revelation 22:4).
The end of the psalm is the end of all things “For the LORD is righteous; he loves righteous deeds; the upright shall behold his face” (English Standard Version). This is priestly language, the fulfillment of the Aaronic blessing (Numbers 6:24–26) and the promise of Jesus: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God” (Matthew 5:8). David’s answer to crumbling foundations is not a plan but a vision. The most subversive act in an age of panic is to keep your eyes on the face of God—and then to keep doing righteous deeds in public.
Suggestions for meditation and song - Read alongside: Habakkuk 2:20; Psalm 16:5; Isaiah 33:5–6; 1 Corinthians 3:11; Hebrews 12:26–29; 1 Peter 1:6–7; Revelation 22:4. - Sing: “Before the Throne of God Above” (Charitie Lees Bancroft).
Prayer Holy King, fix our gaze where the world’s tremors cannot reach—on Your throne and Your face. Assay our hearts; burn away fear and secret violence. Give us courage to stay, to speak truth at the gates, to do the next righteous deed. As Christ has drunk our cup, grant us the portion of Your presence, until the upright behold Your face. Amen.