A Brush With Betrayal: Arnold, Asaph, and Me
“If I had said, ‘I will speak thus…’ I would have betrayed the generation of your children.”
Psalm 73:15
I don’t know more than the average American about our national traitor. But I do know that Benedict Arnold felt hurt. I know Arnold was physically and emotionally wounded when he sold out to the British and sent that smoking-gun letter in John André’s boot. Betrayal was born of festering wounds.
Betrayal Born of Wounds
Back in May 1775, Benedict Arnold and Ethan Allen had directed a successful attack on British-held Fort Ticonderoga, but Allen would get all the credit. To add insult to injury, Arnold learned that his wife Margaret had died earlier the same month.
In the fall of 1775, Arnold marched 700 men through the Maine wilderness to a fierce battle in Quebec, where he suffered a severe leg injury. He recovered, but was passed over for promotion.
He didn’t quit, but fought valiantly in 1777 at the Battle of Saratoga. That is until a musket ball killed his horse and another tore into his leg—the same leg was hit by a ricocheted bullet in Quebec. Arnold suffered for months, “bedpans, bed sores, and pain which would not even allow him to write a letter.” He endured all this while hearing that Congress was hailing Horatio Gates, not him, as ‘The Hero of Saratoga.”
Arnold assumed command of West Point in August 1780 and betrayed the nation in September. I think Benedict Arnold turned traiter because he allowed his emotional wounds to fester. His sense of mistreatment led him to betray.
I understand injury to the same leg, again. And I get how repeated wounding might lead to treachery.
More Than a Brush With Betrayal
The Hebrew word translated “betrayed” in Psalm 73:15 is bawgad. It’s used 49 times in the Old Testament and is most oftern translated “treacherous.” It’s also translated “broken faith” (Ex 21:8), “betrayed” (Ps 73:15), “faithless” (Ps 119:158), and “traitor” (Pr 21:18).
No matter the nuance, bawgad is bad. It connotes failure at least, evil at most. Traitors are loathed. The words Judas Iscariot, Benedict Arnold, and “You too, Brutus?” live in infamy.
With treachery the treacherous betray. Betray means to treat in a faithless or false manner.
But there is a more subtle treachery, a betrayal that slides by in the guise of wounded authenticity, “calling it as I see it,” or just “keeping it real.“
Which brings us to Asaph and his brush with betrayal.
Where Asaph (Nearly) Went Wrong
I’ve been chewing on Psalm 73 for weeks. King David’s chief musician Asaph wrote it. Somewhere along the way, Asaph had grown envious of the prosperous wicked. Verses 3-12 catalog his complaints, then verses 13-14 his response to it.
Then comes the verse I’d overlooked, just before Asaph “enters the sanctuary of God” and understands the fate of the wicked—that deserves our attention:
“If I had said, ‘I will speak thus,’
I would have betrayed the generation of your children.”
I think Asaph’s “speak thus” refers to his devastating and untrue conclusion expressed in verse 13,
All in vain have I kept my heart clean
and washed my hands in innocence.
To decry the wrong that seems strong is not wrong. But we may go wrong, where Asaph nearly went wrong: when we allow our eyes to the trump the truth of God’s word and our hurts to guide our hearts, we are on the verge of committing treason.
This is a brush with betrayal.
When we allow our eyes to the trump the truth of God’s word and our hurts to guide our hearts, we are on the verge of committing treason.
The root of Asaph’s complaint is expressed in verse 14,
For all the day long I have been stricken
and rebuked every morning.
We brush with betrayal when we focus on our hurt—all the day long I have been stricken, and the injustice we see—the wicked are not stricken like the rest of mankind (v. 5).
That is a brush with betrayal.
But when we declare to God’s children that it’s vain to serve God, that is betrayal.
What Asaph Knew
Asaph would have been wrong to declare, “all in vain have I kept my heart clean.” For God himself declares in Jeremiah 17:10,
“I the LORD search the heart
and test the mind,
to give every man according to his ways,
according to the fruit of his deeds.”
Asaph didn’t have Jeremiah’s words, or Christ’s, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God” (Matthew 5:8), or Paul’s reminder, that “God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows” (Galatians 6:7). Asaph didn’t have those words. But he knew better.
Asaph knew it is never in vain to serve God.
I know he knew because Asaph began Psalm 73 affirming this very truth:
“Surely God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart.”
In his heart of hearts, Asaph knew that the judge of the earth would do right (Gen 18:25).
Ashaph knew.
Think Twice, Speak Once
Asaph knew that to promote the easy life of the wicked over a hard, but faithful life would be to mislead God’s children.
In his commentary on Psalm 73, Matthew Henry notes,
“It is bad to think ill, but it is worse to speak it, for that is giving the evil thought a sanction; it is allowing it, giving consent to it and publishing it for the infection of others… We must think twice before we speak once…because the second thoughts may correct the mistakes of the first.”
Why didn’t Asaph speak his ill thoughts?
He did not want to want to discourage, or betray, God’s children.
Henry, again,
“We must be very careful not to say or do anything which may…sadden their hearts, or weaken their hands, or shake their interest.”
Psalm 73:15 then, is Asaph’s about-face from self-pity to his responsibility toward God. That responsibility, Asaph knew, impacts how we speak in the presence of God’s people.
In other words, there are some things, for God’s sake, we just don’t say.
Two Achilles ruptures, two repair surgeries, one unhealed wound (I invite your prayers), and some wholly unrelated relational “it’s not fair’s” into this year, this is what I’m learning.
I must think twice before I speak once, so I do not betray God’s children.
When I “Spoke Thus”
But I crossed the line last week. I let my feelings trump and “spoke thus” to God’s children, words of hurt, self-pity and doubt.
I didn’t say, “in vain have I kept my heart pure.” But I did intimate that God is not treating me so well.
Even as I aired my hurt, the words tasted bitter.
Thankfully, that generation of God’s children was strong in faith, and mature. I don’t think my momentary betrayal left permanent damage. Even still, I wish I’d left those words between God and me.
Because I was more Arnold than Asaph in those moments. I confessed and turned again like Peter.
But betrayal leaves a bad aftertaste. That’s why I write this.
I want to spare you, and “the generation of God’s children.” I want you to know what Asaph knew.
Asaph knew that certain feelings were best left unspoken. He knew that he was responsible to God not to betray God’s children, whatever his doubts.
The Choice We All Face
Crutches and a boot bring opportunities. I’m often asked how I am.
Every time, I face this choice: Will I recount my doubts or declare God’s goodness?
Asaph knew that he ought not to say anything that would give God’s children grounds to distrust him, or disturb their peace.
Asaph was kind to God’s children when he refrained from recounting his doubts.
I’d be remiss not to remind that Scripture calls us to “pour out our hearts before God” (Psalm 62:8). This is to lament, not to betray. In lament, we are talking to God, not about God. Talking to God implies that even if we doubt, we still trust God.
Face Out, Speak Up
If Asaph lamented, he also knew that God is good. The final verse of Psalm 73:28 ends with Asaph’s resolve to tell of God’s goodness and works.
But for me it is good to be near God;
I have made the Lord GOD my refuge,
that I may tell of all your works.
God uses us, injured, fragile and fumbling, to draw others to his once-wounded Son. And he does not make us do it speechlessly.
He always gives us goodness to declare.
“He who is ready to believe the goodness of God shall always see fresh goodness to believe in, and he who is willing to declare the works of God shall never be silent for lack of wonders to declare.”
C. H. Spurgeon, on Psalm 73:28
