Length of Days, Forever

There is a quiet line at the center of this Psalm that the church learned long ago to read with one face in mind. "He asked life of you; you gave it to him, length of days forever and ever." On its first reading the verse is a thank-you for a king delivered from his enemies — the LORD has spared him in battle, has kept the crown on his head, has answered his prayer with more years. David's gladness is real gladness. But the words bend further than David's years. "Length of days forever and ever" is too large a phrase for any man with a heartbeat. No earthly king asks life of God and gets eternity back; they all lie down in their tombs eventually. The Psalm is reaching for a King its first writer could only glimpse at the edge of his own hope.

There is one King who asked life of His Father and received more than the morning. He prayed in Gethsemane that the cup might pass; He prayed on the cross that His spirit be received; He prayed in the silent garden under the stone. And the Father heard Him out of His holy heaven, and gave Him not just dawn back, but length of days that will not end. He rose, and there is no second tomb waiting for Him. So when we read this Psalm now we do not read it as people who hope for our King's victory — we read it as people who are hidden inside it. The crown of pure gold is already on His head. The blessings forever are already on His shoulders. And every line spoken to the King is spoken over us in Him, because His resurrection life is the life we have been given to share. Length of days, forever and ever — for our King, and for us in Him.