The claim that opens Psalm 144, that God personally teaches the psalmist's hands to make war and his fingers to fight, is a striking piece of martial imagery precisely because it deflects credit for battlefield skill away from the warrior and onto the deity invoked before the fighting begins. This is not a boast about personal prowess dressed up in religious language; the entire structure of the verse subordinates the warrior's own hands and fingers, the literal instruments of combat, to a divine teacher who has trained them, which reframes any coming victory as evidence of God's action rather than of the psalmist's own martial virtue.
The cluster of titles that follows, rock, lovingkindness, fortress, high tower, deliverer, shield, refuge, is unusually dense even by the standards of the Psalter's protective vocabulary, piling up seven distinct images of defence and reliance within a single verse before the psalm has said anything else at all, an accumulation that functions rhetorically much the way the ten forms of a hymn like the Bahram Yasht do in a very different tradition, building intensity through repetition and variation before the prayer turns to its specific request, in this case deliverance from the hand of foreigners whose mouths speak falsehood and whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood, likely a reference to a false oath sworn in battle or in treaty.