And David spoke to Jehovah the words of this song in the day that Jehovah had delivered him out of the hand of all his enemies, and out of the hand of Saul.
David's long story of flight, war and grief reaches its close, and instead of a summary of his victories we get a song. The verse names the day the song was sung and the one enemy the singer still has in mind. Why Saul, and why him alone?
David did not write this in calm. He sang it when the pressure lifted, but he learned it while the pressure was still on him.
In 2 Samuel 22 David comes forth from his sufferings and his affliction with a song of triumph and of praise. He had learnt what God was in his sufferings. He celebrates all that God had been for him, and all that he had found Him to be in his needs and dangers. He celebrates what God's power did for him, and the glorious and blessed result of that power.
The events behind the song belong to David's earlier years, yet the chapter sits near the end of the book. The placing is deliberate.
All his enemies, Saul among them (v. 1), have disappeared. In the order of events this song belongs at the beginning of 2 Samuel 7. It stands here because the last enemy of David and of his people has just been defeated (2 Sam. 21:21). From now on this hostile power will never again raise its head. These words appear again in Psalm 18, and they could not have been spoken on this occasion. They speak of a time when David was not under discipline, but had by grace been kept from falling while his cruel enemy pursued him.
The verse names one enemy only. Absalom, David's own son, had hunted him too — and Absalom's rebellion followed David's sin. Yet the song leaves all that out.
The song calls Saul to mind, not Absalom. It remembers only the wrongs done by an evil enemy whom David had never wronged, and forgets the whole tale of sin and shame that followed. David sings like a soul that has never been stained. The Spirit brings up nothing that could have held back the song, or the joy flowing from his heart; for when the Lord forgives, He forgets too.
David speaks his words "to the LORD," and that direction shapes the whole piece. The song holds together around God Himself, not around the list of escapes.
Like the song of Moses, the song of David begins and ends with God. Every true song must… Everything here ebbs and flows. God alone is what His name Jehovah declares: the One who abides… The lasting confidence and security of faith is that God is a rock. Each rescue in a person's life only underlines this again: the refuge stays with us while the storm still rages.
Read on past the first verse and the language outgrows the man. The style of the song itself is the clue.
2 Samuel 22 shows us that David spoke this Psalm at a fitting time… The rescue of David from the hand of Saul is told here in such a style that it tells us clearly: another and far greater deliverance was in view through it.
The sharpest test comes where the song gives the reason God stepped in. David's own history will not carry the claim.
Here the clear, strong declaration of righteousness fits, in fact, only One. He alone could say of God, "I always do the things that are pleasing to Him." This, above all else, is what is needed in the King whom God approves and the world needs. Despite what might be the general character of David's reign, we know well that he could not pretend to this. Here, again, David was but the shadow, and not the perfect image of the true.
Rescue brings its own danger. There is a warning here for anyone praying to be lifted out of hardship.
We need to guard against the effects of success. Circumstances that press me down produce nothing but joy and praise, as I experience God's goodness. Circumstances that lift me up produce sorrow. How often has a believer in trial, aware of his own weakness, leaned on the Lord and cried to Him! The Lord held him up as a faithful servant. He had blessing and gained influence, godly influence too. But how often has that same man, content with the blessing and the influence he gained, lost the sense of his weakness and stopped short in his course.
- Suffering teaches. David did not learn what God was after the danger passed; he learned it inside the danger, and the song is the report.
- Deliverance sings. What he learned came out as praise to the Lord. The song begins and ends with God, the rock who stays while the storm rages.
- Grace forgets. The song names Saul alone. It leaves out the failures that came later, because the Lord who forgives also forgets.
- Christ fills it. The claim of righteousness that explains the rescue fits only One. David is the shadow, not the finished picture.
- Success tests. Trouble drew praise out of David. Success brings sorrow, so treat being lifted up as the more dangerous season.
And he said, Jehovah is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer;
David sings this at the end of years of being hunted, and he begins by naming God: rock, fortress, deliverer, each one claimed as his own. How does a man come to speak of God that way, and does the song stop with him?
The song comes after the trouble, not during it.
In 2 Samuel 22 David comes out of his sufferings and his affliction with a song of triumph and praise. He had learnt what God was in his sufferings. He celebrates all that God had been for him, and all that he had found Him to be in his times of need and danger. He celebrates the effect of God's power on his behalf, and the glorious and blessed result of that power.
The Hebrew word for "rock" points to a height, not a stone on the ground. A second word often stands beside it.
One Hebrew word is translated "rock" in English versions of the Old Testament. It refers to a high place, an elevated place, perhaps a cliff. The emphasis of the word is on its elevation, its height. Several times this word describes the Lord, especially in the Psalms. In many of these places another word stands with it, a word that helps give us the emphasis — and that is the word fortress.
Standing on such a height changes who holds the advantage in a fight.
What do we see? An elevated place, a high place. A soldier there can look out over the countryside, see for miles, and view any enemy approaching. He is in a superb position to defend himself. It is very hard to attack an enemy at the top of a cliff from the bottom. The position is easily defensible.
Each title answers a different need.
Jehovah is his rock, the symbol of unchanging stability. "My fortress" speaks of the place of impregnable defence. David, in his time of exile, learned how valuable a fortress was. Added to this is "my deliverer." More than once he was in danger. It seemed the enemy was about to capture or kill him. Then God stepped in and delivered him from harm.
Some read the opening phrase with a different shade of meaning, and it points to Christ.
Hebrew scholars tell us that "The LORD is my rock" is better translated "Jehovah, my cleft of the rock." It is Christ the rock, cleft for us. In Him the believer has found his refuge. And He Himself was saved from His enemies, and in Him His people are saved and will be saved from their enemies.
David's song reaches past his own life.
David was a prophet. His prophetic songs arise from his personal experiences, but they would not have been prophetic if they did not have Christ as their object. In his experiences David is a reflection of Christ, and this is an immense privilege. But it is only a feeble light, a small copy of the perfect Model.
The song speaks for a whole nation too.
David speaks as a prophet, and, as he had done in so many other cases, he personifies the Lord Jesus in connection with Israel. This song sets before us the sufferings of Christ, as the representative of Israel, and often speaking of the nation as though it were Himself.
Anyone in distress can do what David did, and gain more than rescue.
The psalm teaches us to call upon the Lord in distress, no matter how or why it comes — to call on the Lord. In this way not only is the deliverance known, but the Lord is known in His sympathy, His kindness, and His interest in us... The heart enlarges in the sense of what He has been for us. And so He is. Our own deliverances may not be exactly the same kind. Yet difficulties and distress often press on us, and there is deliverance in crying to the Lord.
The same ground holds under a different kind of fight.
David was able to defeat the enemy because of the strength of the ground on which he stood. We too have an enemy. We are not fighting against flesh and blood; our warfare is spiritual. We too have the Lord as our rock. I see this as a picture of the Lord as the strong, solid ground from which we are able to defend ourselves against Satan's attacks.
- Rock — learned. David did not define God in a classroom. He found out what God was while he was suffering, and the song is the report.
- Rock — a height. The word points to a cliff, high ground the enemy must climb to reach you. The advantage belongs to whoever is standing on it.
- Fortress — held. Rock means stability. Fortress means a defence no one can break into. Deliverer means God stepping in when capture was moments away.
- Deliverer — Christ. Read as "my cleft of the rock," the phrase points to Christ, opened for us, so that His own rescue becomes His people's.
- "My" — yours. The song is bigger than David; it belongs finally to Christ. Yet the invitation stands: call on the Lord in distress, and you learn not only rescue but the Rescuer.
God is my rock, in him will I trust -- My shield, and the horn of my salvation, My high tower, and my refuge, My saviour thou wilt save me from violence.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
I will call upon Jehovah, who is to be praised; So shall I be saved from mine enemies.
David's song closes a life of flight, war, and rescue. Verse 4 is its hinge: the names for God in verses 2–3 turn into an action — calling on Him — and that call ends in rescue.
The song is introduced as David's response to being delivered from all his enemies and from Saul. One writer notices which wrongs the song remembers, and which it drops:
Nothing comes to mind except the wrongs done by an evil enemy who had never been provoked, and the whole story of sin and shame that followed is forgotten. David sings like a soul that was never stained. The Spirit brings back nothing that could have checked the song, or the joy flowing from his heart; for when the Lord forgives, He also forgets.
This praise is not theory. It comes from a man who found out in his own suffering what God is:
In 2 Samuel 22 David comes out of his suffering and affliction with a song of triumph and praise. He had learned in his suffering what God was. He celebrates all that God had been for him, and all that he had found Him to be in his needs and dangers. He celebrates the effect of God's power on his behalf, and the glorious, blessed result of that power.
The phrase says something about the One being called on: He is Himself the singer's praise. One commentator, who renders the line "the object of my praise," hears in it the soul finding its rock — a short line that the rest of the song opens out:
This verse shows the soul finding the LORD to be its rock: "I call upon the LORD, the object of my praise, and I am saved from my enemies." This is what the speaker has found, and everything that follows in the song opens it out.
The verse builds on the one before it, step by step, and the last step has no hesitation in it. (The writer below quotes an older translation: "I will call upon the LORD… so shall I be saved.")
Verse 3 has told us, "in Him will I trust." Verse 4 adds, "I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised." So, with calm, assured confidence, he can say, "so shall I be saved from my enemies" (2 Samuel 22:4). There is no uncertainty about this.
The names David piles up just before this verse are the reason his call is safe. The last one reaches past any battlefield:
Finally David calls God "my savior." It is a lovely word, and it takes on a fuller meaning in the New Testament when we look at the great work of the Lord Jesus, who suffered at Calvary to provide eternal salvation for the lost. God had saved David from violence again and again, when he was in immediate danger of death. But the Lord Jesus saves from the greater violence of eternal judgment, and He does it by His sacrifice.
Both writers see the song reaching further than David himself, but they point in different directions. One hears in it Christ's triumph over death:
It is the Spirit of Christ speaking in David, tied to His triumph over death by the mighty energy of the power of God (Eph. 1:19)… With thanks he retells the glorious acts of God on his behalf. Yet his language leads us at once away from David and all his battles, to that terrible battle which raged around the grave of Jesus.
The other looks ahead, reading the rescue as one still to come for God's people:
It deals with the rescue of the remnant of Israel at the end times, when God will step in for them openly, where all can see (vv. 8-15). They will be brought to death's door, and then God will act for them and scatter their enemies in an instant.
- Delivered — A rescued man sings this song. His praise reports what he found God to be while he was in danger. It is not a wish.
- Named — Rock, savior: the names David gives God are the reason the call in verse 4 is safe. The last of them reaches past rescue from enemies to salvation from judgment.
- Called — Calling is the action of the verse. Trust in verse 3 becomes a cry in verse 4.
- Praised — David calls on God as "the object of my praise." That title describes the God he calls, and the whole song then opens it out.
- Assured — "So shall I be saved" is said with calm confidence, and there is no uncertainty in it. Writers here trace that certainty back to Christ's own triumph over death.
For the waves of death encompassed me, Torrents of Belial made me afraid.
David sings this song of deliverance near the end of his life, after every enemy has fallen. Verse 5 opens his account of the trouble he was in, and its picture of drowning raises the question that runs through the whole chapter: is David describing his own escapes, or is someone greater speaking through him?
The song does not sit in the order of events, and one writer explains why:
In time this song belongs at the beginning of 2 Samuel 7. It stands here because the last enemy of David and of his people has just been defeated (2 Sam. 21:21), and from now on this hostile power will never raise its head again… David was a prophet. His prophetic songs grow out of his own experiences. But they would not be prophetic if Christ were not their object. In his experiences David reflects Christ, and that is an immense privilege. Yet it is only a feeble light, a small copy of the perfect Model.
Read verse 5 against David's own escapes and the words are far too big for them:
Beginning with verse 5 the language goes beyond what was true of David. He may have felt the sorrows he speaks of very deeply. Even so, only the Lord Jesus can say these words as wholly true of His own sufferings and sorrows… For the Lord Jesus, "the waves of death" were infinitely worse than anything David or we have ever known, because they went far beyond the suffering that wicked men put Him through… Men's contempt was nothing to Him next to the agony of being forsaken by God because of our sins.
The ESV reads "the torrents of destruction." Older translations keep the Hebrew word here: "the torrents of Belial." It is not a mild word for people who just ignore God:
It seems better to keep the Hebrew word Belial in English than to translate it. It clearly means "worthlessness." The older English version reads "ungodly men" here, which the revised version changes to "ungodliness." But the Hebrew word carries far more than the English one. Its moral sense is strongly positive, not merely negative. In moral and spiritual things nothing is merely negative: plain indifference here is a crime… In the Old Testament the "sons of Belial" are always those lawless men who, whenever they get the chance, show themselves as law-breakers, hostile to God and man.
Older translations end the verse with "made me afraid." Fear is a startling word for the sinless One, and the same commentary asks what could cause it:
"The torrents of Belial" must then have "put Him in fear" by the horror of what sin was to Him, as He saw it in the light in which He lived with God… For this He was to die, taking the sinner's place. And men like these — His own creatures, with His stamp ruined in them — drove the nails that fastened Him to the cross and plunged the spear into His side!
Commentators differ over how far atonement is in view in these lines. One reads them as Christ's suffering at the hands of men, and ties the deliverance of God's people to His cry:
Deliverance for others depends on a perfect One taking up their cause and calling on God. His deliverance, and the deliverance of those identified with Him, is in answer to His call… The Psalm does not present the atoning sufferings of Christ, but His sufferings at the hands of men, even to death. These are sufferings that the people of God have to meet. Christ enters into them perfectly, perfectly voices the cry of God's people, and is heard.
The verses that follow show the cry going up to God, and one writer notes that for Christ the prayer came before the waters:
Verse 7, in the case of the Lord Jesus, preceded verse 5. He called upon God in His deep distress in the garden of Gethsemane, before His suffering… He was not saved from dying, but was saved "out of death" because God had heard Him even before He suffered and died.
Verse 5 sounds like a man going under. One writer reads the scene the other way round:
Here was apparent weakness, but real power. The one who seemed defeated became the victor… He did not resist. He let Himself be trampled on, and so crushed the power of the enemy. Satan used men to nail Him to the cross, lay Him in the grave, and set a seal on Him so that He would not rise. But He came up out of the horrible pit, out of the miry clay.
- Occasion — The song comes after the last enemy has fallen, so David sings from the far side of the trouble he describes.
- Overflow — From verse 5 the words outrun David's own life. He is a real but faint reflection of a greater Sufferer.
- Belial — The flood is not vague misfortune. It is active lawlessness: men hostile to God and man.
- Fear — What shook Him was the horror of sin seen in God's own light, and the death He would die taking the sinner's place.
- Deliverance — God heard the cry. He did not spare Him from dying, but brought Him up out of death, and the apparent defeat became the victory.
The bands of Sheol surrounded me; The cords of death encountered me;
David's song of thanksgiving looks back on years of being hunted. Near its start he piles up images of drowning, traps, and the grave closing in. Commentators ask whose voice this really is. The words fit David's escapes, but they reach far past anything he lived through.
David sings this after the danger, not during it. One writer reads it as the fruit of what David learned while the trouble lasted:
In 2 Samuel 22 David comes out of his sufferings and his affliction with a song of triumph and praise. He had learnt what God was in his sufferings... All this is given in a song, whose words will only be fully fulfilled in Christ Himself.
From verse 5 onward the language outgrows the man singing it:
Beginning with verse 5 the language goes beyond what was true of David. David may have felt these sorrows deeply. Yet only the Lord Jesus can speak these words as fully true of His own sufferings and sorrows... For Him "the waves of death" were infinitely worse than anything David or we have known. His suffering went far beyond the abuse He took from wicked men.
This is why the song counts as prophecy and not just memoir:
David was a prophet. His prophetic songs arise from his own experiences. But they would not be prophetic if Christ were not their object. In his experiences David reflects Christ. That is an immense privilege, but it is only a feeble light, a small copy of the perfect Model.
Older translations read this line as "the sorrows of Sheol surrounded me". One writer builds on that wording to separate Sheol from qeber, the Hebrew word for a burial place:
Sheol for the wicked is connected with pain and sorrow... "The sorrows of hell [sheol] surrounded me" (2 Sam. 22:6). Qeber is never connected in this way with judgment and sorrow. The body in the grave is unconscious and cannot feel pain or experience sorrow. A conscious entity, the soul, in the condition of sheol can experience such things.
Yet the sorrow named here had a limit fixed to it:
Sheol is the unseen state of the soul and spirit as separated from the body. But while it meant deep sorrow, it was not permanent: "For You will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let Your holy one see corruption" (Ps. 16:10).
The song moves from the snares to a cry for help. One commentator says the real order was the reverse. He quotes Hebrews 5:7 as "out of death", where the ESV has "from death":
For the Lord Jesus, verse 7 came before verse 5. He called upon God in His deep distress in the garden of Gethsemane, before His suffering. He knew well all that He would have to bear. He "offered up both prayers and pleas, with strong crying and tears, to Him who was able to save Him out of death, and He was heard because of His reverence" (Heb. 5:7). He was not saved from dying. God saved Him "out of death" because He had heard Him even before He suffered and died.
The One caught in death's snares was the One who broke them:
Here was apparent weakness, but real power. The apparently defeated one became the victor. "Jesus was crucified in weakness, but He lives by the power of God." He did not resist, but let Himself be trampled on, and so crushed the power of the enemy. Satan used men to nail Him to the cross, lay Him in the grave, and set a seal on Him so that He might not rise. But He came up out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay, "having disarmed the rulers and authorities." He went down into the very heart of the enemy's land, only to put him to open shame.
One writer reads these verses as a promise to people who will one day be pressed just as hard:
It deals with the deliverance of the faithful remnant of Israel at the time of the end, when God will step in openly for them (vv. 8-15). God will bring them to death's door, and then act for them and scatter their enemies in an instant. Before this deliverance the remnant will learn that their Messiah, David's Son, went through this anguish alone and bore it. In this way He joined Himself to the future distress of His people, to deliver them.
- The snare — the verse pictures Sheol's cords and death's traps closing in on the singer.
- Too big for David — from verse 5 on, the words outrun anything David suffered. Only Christ speaks them in full.
- Sheol, not the grave — the word means the unseen state of the soul, linked with sorrow and pain. A body in a tomb feels neither.
- The cry came first — Christ prayed in Gethsemane before the snares closed. He was not saved from dying, but out of death.
- The snare broke — the One who looked defeated came up out of the pit as victor, and He bore that anguish alone to deliver His people.
In my distress I called upon Jehovah, And I cried to my God; And he heard my voice out of his temple, And my cry [came] into his ears.
This verse is the turning point of David's song. In verses 5 and 6 the waves of death close in. Then one cry changes everything. Two questions follow. What drove David to call? And how does God answer a hunted man "from His temple"?
The cry did not come from a comfortable man. Saul hunted David out of every refuge. One writer reads those years as training in dependence on God.
So it is with the saints. This is just what they need now. They become aware of fighting a power they cannot set aside. They feel their own utter weakness. So they must turn straight to God in every circumstance and depend on Him for every step. At last Saul drives him away completely: he shows full hostility, and David becomes an outcast. All this is necessary to exercise his faith. It trains him to wait on the Lord: "In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I called."
Trouble alone does not make a man call on God. One writer sets David beside his descendant Ahaz, who met his own crisis by turning further away.
He trusted in man, leaned on human strength, and his heart turned away from the Lord... "In the time of his distress he became yet more faithless to the LORD." How different was his great ancestor David! "In my distress," he says, "I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help" (Ps. 18:6). Even his wicked grandson Manasseh sought the Lord his God "when he was in distress."
The song's language goes beyond anything David lived through. Commentators hear in it the voice of Christ and His triumph over death.
The twenty-second chapter of 2 Samuel contains David's magnificent song, and it matches Psalm 18. These are the words of the Spirit of Christ in David. They are connected with His triumph over death, through the mighty energy of the power of God (Eph. 1:19)... With thanks he retells the glorious things God did for him. But his language leads us straight from David and all his conflicts to that terrible conflict which raged around the grave of Jesus.
Read that way, the order of the verses shifts. The calling of verse 7 comes before the waves of death of verse 5. The writer quotes Hebrews 5:7 in an older wording — "out of death," where the ESV has "from death."
Verse 7, in the case of the Lord Jesus, preceded verse 5. He called upon God in His deep distress in the garden of Gethsemane, before His suffering. He knew fully what He would have to bear. He "offered up prayers and pleas, with loud cries and tears, to Him who was able to save Him out of death, and He was heard because of His reverence" (Heb. 5:7). He was not saved from dying. God saved Him "out of death," because He had heard Him even before He suffered and died.
One writer sets this hearing beside another psalm, where the sufferer cries and gets no answer.
"I cry... and You do not answer," are the words of the psalm of atonement; but then again, "when He cried to Him, He heard" (Ps. 22:2, 24). Both things are, of course, true; each suited in its place. The psalm here celebrates the hearing, and a hearing out of the sanctuary. It is the answer of God in His holiness to the Holy One.
The temple is God's throne as well as His dwelling, and He does not stay seated there.
It is His place and throne of Majesty, where He allows nothing contrary to it... but where He dwells among His people, in the place of glory, because He has set His throne there. He may dwell in a tent, yet He is unchanged there, in the same Majesty. But at the cry of His people, He rides out. He comes in the same Majesty, intolerant of evil, in the sovereign power of judgment; but that is deliverance... so He hears out of His holy temple, the place of His terrible, royal Majesty, even when the matter is Israel's deliverance.
Why should one man's cry bring an answer this large? Because of the way the Spirit speaks all through Scripture.
This is the way of the Spirit all through Scripture. He sees in one small thing something far larger, and He speaks that way. In the lesser thing you can see the counsel, plan, and mind of God bringing in the greater. So the lesser becomes the pledge, and the forerunner, of the greater.
- Pressure — Saul's hostility drove David out of every human refuge. That trained his faith and taught him to wait on God for every step.
- Choice — distress does not always produce a cry. Ahaz sinned more in his trouble; David, and even Manasseh, turned to God in theirs.
- Cry — the deepest voice in the song is Christ's. In Gethsemane He called before the waves came, and God heard Him — not saving Him from dying, but out of death.
- Answer — the hearing comes "out of the sanctuary": God's holiness answers the Holy One. At that cry He rides out in majesty, and His judgment is deliverance.
- Reach — one man's cry becomes the pledge and forerunner of something far larger. So the song ends in a triumph far beyond David's own.
Then the earth shook, and quaked; The foundations of the heavens trembled And shook because he was wroth.
Here an earthquake answers a cry for help: the earth shakes, the sky's foundations tremble, and the cause is God's anger. The song is David's, but its words run far past his own story, so commentators ask who is really speaking, and whose anger this is.
The verses just before are a cry for help. One writer reads what follows as God taking the side of the one who called on Him:
This is Messiah's praise for deliverance or resurrection... He tells of what He longed for in the day of His distress. He tells of the wonderful redemption the hand of Jehovah worked for Him and His Israel, when He was in the place of death, or among the allied forces of His enemies in the last days. His deliverance is God's answer to His cry. The earth then shakes... For the judge of all the earth will avenge His own chosen ones who cry to Him.
David could not have lived every line of this song himself. One writer explains why his words reach further:
David was a prophet. His prophetic songs grow out of his own experiences. But they would not be prophetic if Christ were not their object. In what he lived through, David reflects Christ, and that is an immense privilege. Yet it is only a faint light, a small copy of the perfect Model.
The verse speaks in pictures. Bold pictures do not make the book less than real history:
Is the second book of Samuel to be rejected as real history, because the Holy Spirit has begun it with a dirge (2 Sam. 1) and closed it with a song (2 Sam. 22), both full of the boldest and most beautiful, but true, figures?
Commentators read the same picture at more than one level. One writer sees it come true three times:
It first describes the incoming of Jehovah, in answer to His cry, to destroy the power of evil (vv. 4-19). This came true at the Red Sea, which the psalm clearly refers to. It came true again when God delivered David from his enemies, the event that gave rise to it. Above all it came true in the resurrection of Christ, the basis and perfect example of all deliverance.
The verse gives a cause — God was angry — but not the offence. One writer fills that in from later events:
When the Lord died there was an earthquake (Matt. 27:51), and again when He rose from the grave (Matt. 28:2). Yet the greatest of all earthquakes is foretold in Revelation 16:18. In each case God shakes the earth because of His anger against men for having rejected and crucified His Son.
Yet God did not follow that anger with immediate judgment:
His anger burned fiercely against those who had killed His Son. He showed it at the time, yet He did not bring on them the judgment they deserved. Instead He has waited in patience for people to be brought to repentance.
One writer looks forward as well as back. He sees these verses pointing to a rescue still to come for the remnant — the part of Israel that stays true to God:
It speaks of a time still future and prophetic. It deals with the remnant's deliverance at the time of the end, when God will step in for them in the open, where all can see (vv. 8-15). They will be led to death's door. Then God will act for them and scatter their enemies in an instant.
One writer places this storm at a single spot — the grave of Christ:
The grave of Christ was the centre round which the battle raged in all its fierceness, for there lay the Prince of life. Satan did his utmost; he brought all the power of hell to bear... but he could not hold his captive, because all the claims of justice had been met... But hear that He won the victory as man's representative, as the sinner's substitute, as the Church's guarantor. Believe that, and it gives the soul peace beyond words.
- Cry — the earthquake is God's reply to a voice in distress. Writers hear in it the cry of Christ answered.
- Figure — the words paint pictures, and the pictures carry real facts. A funeral song opens 2 Samuel and a song closes it, both full of bold pictures that are true.
- Anger — the cause is God's anger. Commentators tie it to the earthquakes at the cross and the empty tomb — His verdict on the killing of His Son.
- Patience — God showed that anger but held back the judgment, leaving people room to repent.
- Reach — the same shaking points back to the Red Sea and David's rescue, and forward to God's open rescue of Israel. It offers peace now to anyone who trusts the Victor who left the grave.
There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, And fire out of his mouth devoured Coals burned forth from it.
David's closing song looks back on a lifetime of rescue. Here the language leaves the battlefield for the sky: smoke, fire and burning coals. Commentators read the picture as God Himself moving to save. They differ over how much of it belongs to David's own story, and how much still lies ahead.
The smoke shows God's glory. One writer says which side of that glory is on display:
The glory of God now displayed itself — not in bright blessing, but in the power and influence of His judgment.
The same writer ties the picture to Mount Sinai, and names what it stands against:
So Sinai was all smoke. "Smoke went up from His nostrils." Scripture uses this again and again as a picture of consuming fire — the opposite of grace clearing away transgressions.
The burning begins because someone called out. The order matters:
His deliverance is God's answer to His cry. The earth then shakes. It shakes just as the meeting place shook at the voice of the church in Jerusalem (Acts 4). For the Judge of all the earth will avenge His own chosen ones who cry to Him.
The same majesty that terrifies is what saves. One writer draws a conclusion from that about the cost of redemption:
When His people cry out, He rides out. He comes in that same Majesty, which allows no evil, and in the sovereign power of judgment. But that is deliverance... What a wonderful thing that He should ride forth in majesty! No wonder redemption is such a great thing. No wonder Christ had to go so low, taking the blow and the dealing of this Majesty, through grace. For where else could blood be found to put on the doorposts?
The fire in the verse comes out of God's mouth. One writer says what that fire is, and where it was heard after the resurrection:
This is the fire of God's holiness, expressed by His word — the word His disciples went on to proclaim after His resurrection.
Several writers say the words outgrow the man who sang them. They hear the voice of Christ in the song, and see the storm as the conflict at His grave:
These are the words of the Spirit of Christ in David, tied to His triumph over death through the mighty energy of the power of God (Eph. 1:19)... The language leads us at once from David and all his battles to that terrible conflict that raged around the grave of Jesus, when all the powers of darkness lined up in fierce array against God.
Another writer points to two moments when this power was felt, and to a greater shaking that has not come yet:
A pledge and sample of what this passage describes came when the angel of the Lord came down. The earth quaked, and the guards at the grave — which until then had held the body of the now risen Christ — shook and became like dead men with fear (Matt. 28). An earlier sign of the same mighty power was felt when the rocks split and the graves opened, after Jesus gave up His spirit with a last loud cry (Matt. 27)... But the shaking of both earth and heaven that this passage speaks of has not happened yet (Heb. 12:26-27).
Commentators also read the verse forward. Placed beside other songs of God coming down, it becomes a promise:
Deuteronomy 33:2 says that the Lord came from Sinai, out of Seir and from Paran to deliver His people... We find the same in Psalm 18:8-20, but there it deals more with the enemies of the last days... all these portions sing of God's past intervention to save His people as a pledge of the deliverance in the last days.
- Cry. The fire is kindled by a prayer. God answers a cry from distress, and the Judge of all the earth avenges those who call on Him.
- Fire. Smoke from the nostrils is a fixed picture of consuming fire, the opposite of grace clearing away wrongdoing. It recalls Mount Sinai, which was all smoke.
- Holiness. What burns is God's holiness, and His word carries and expresses it.
- Cost. The majesty that rides out to deliver is the majesty Christ went under. That is why redemption cost what it did.
- Reach. The song stretches from David's rescue, to the shaking at Christ's grave, to a deliverance still ahead. Each earlier rescue is a pledge of the last one.
And he bowed the heavens, and came down; And darkness was under his feet.
Near the end of his life, David sings about being rescued from Saul and every other enemy. He pictures that rescue as God Himself leaving heaven to reach him, and it raises two questions. What does it mean for God to bend the sky and step down? And why is the God who comes to save wrapped in darkness?
One writer reads the whole song as Messiah's praise. He cried out and God answered. The same writer finds Christ on both sides of that rescue.
This is Messiah's praise for deliverance or resurrection... He recites His desires in the day of His distress, and the marvellous redemption which the hand of Jehovah had worked for Him and His Israel, when in the place of death, or surrounded by His enemies in the last days. His deliverance is God's answer to His cry. The earth then shakes... This Psalm strikingly shows Christ in two places and in two very different characters. He is here both the delivered one and the deliverer. He is the one who makes the request, and the one who answers it.
The shaking earth, the fire, and the bowed heavens make one picture. The world cannot stay still when its Maker moves.
The first three show us God as the Almighty, the earth and the heavens bearing witness to His power alike. The earth trembles before Him, right down to the foundations of the hills. His wrath is a consuming fire. He bows the heavens under Him as He comes down... Creation is not only a mirror of God's perfections. His power fills it, and it is sensitive to His slightest movement.
To bow the heavens is to stoop. One writer finds both of Christ's comings in that stoop.
"He bowed the heavens and came down." Bowing the heavens speaks of the great, willing humbling of the Lord of glory. It points to His first coming to earth in lowly grace. It also points to His coming in solemn judgment at the end of the tribulation. "Thick darkness was under His feet" tells us the character of that judgment: the ungodly do not see it.
The darkness is not distance. God is present and working while the eye sees nothing of Him.
"He bowed the heavens and came down" in great compassion and power. Yet His presence was veiled in some real measure, so that unbelievers did not see it. Verse 10 is figurative. He makes darkness His secret place, and that underlines how far His dealings are beyond our working out.
Note that the cherubim of the next line carry the same theme in a different key: they are tied throughout Scripture to God's rule over the earth.
The cherub, from the first view in Eden to its representatives in the last book of the New Testament, is always connected with divine government — the throne of God as ruling over the earth... The riding upon the cherub here, therefore, indicates judicial action.
Commentators differ over which event the imagery describes. One writer sets the whole storm scene around the tomb of Christ.
What language is here! Where shall we find anything to equal it? Here is the wrath of the Almighty, the thunder of His power, the shaking of the whole framework of creation, the artillery of heaven. All these ideas, set out here so vividly, go beyond anything we can imagine. The grave of Christ was the centre of the battle. There it raged in all its fierceness, for there lay the Prince of life. Satan did his utmost. He brought all the power of hell to bear, all "the power of darkness," but he could not hold his captive, because all the claims of justice had been met.
Commentators handle this song and Psalm 18 together. The verse is not only description. It is meant to change how a believer reads pressure that will not lift.
When circumstances are too strong for us, they should have only one effect. They should make us realise that God is present. Psalm 18 shows us how God answers the distress of His people. He rises, and everything crumbles in His presence. The full fulfilment of this Psalm will make that plain.
- Cry. The bowed heavens are an answer, not an accident. Rescue follows the cry of the one in distress, and Christ is both the one who asks and the one who answers.
- Stoop. Bowing the heavens is God lowering Himself. He came once in lowly grace, and He will come again in judgment.
- Veil. Thick darkness under His feet means He acts unseen. Unbelievers notice nothing, and His dealings are beyond our working out.
- Victory. The grave of Christ was the centre of the battle, and Satan could not hold his captive, because the claims of justice had been met.
- Confidence. He rises and everything crumbles before Him. So pressure too strong for you is an invitation to count on His presence.
And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly; And he was seen upon the wings of the wind.
David's song looks back on his rescue from Saul and every other enemy. Then it paints God Himself coming down from heaven to do it. What is a cherub, and why does rescue arrive as an armed descent?
The song belongs to one moment in David's life, and its language soon outgrows it:
The cherub appears next in 2 Samuel 22:11, and here in the singular. This is really part of Psalm 18, a song of delight David wrote "on the day when the LORD delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul." It is a remarkable outpouring. The Spirit carried David far beyond the circumstances of his own case. Israel's deliverance from Egypt is also in the Psalm. Much more important, the Psalm speaks of the deliverance of Christ from the power of death and from every other enemy. He becomes "head of the nations." The Psalm brings in the cherub to express the righteous government of God acting for those He favours.
The cherub is not decoration. It carries a settled meaning across the whole Bible, and that meaning tells you what kind of act is being described here:
The cherub is always connected with divine government — the throne of God ruling over the earth. That holds from its first appearance in Eden to its representatives in the last book of the New Testament. For Israel, the ark and mercy-seat are still this throne. The cherubim there are of one piece with the mercy-seat, and their faces look to the place where the atoning blood is sprinkled before God. God was said to dwell between the cherubim, and they express the executive righteousness of the throne. Their fourfold character — lion, ox, the face of a man, and flying eagle — stands for power, patient service, intelligence, and a way past our understanding. So riding on the cherub here shows judicial action, and the "wings of the wind" bring together the speed and power of the storm blast.
Another writer links this flight to the mercy-seat, where the cherubim spread their wings over the ark:
It is as though the eternal King left His place in His sanctuary for a time, and came out to judge His enemies. The words "He rode on a cherub and flew" seem to explain a phrase used of the mercy-seat: "the chariot of the cherubim, that spread out their wings, and covered the ark of the covenant of the Lord" (1 Chr. 28:18). Here the throne suggests the chariot the Lord rides. The cherubim carry Him, as it were, in unstoppable power throughout His creation.
Read with the line before it, the verse describes both a stooping down and a rush forward:
"He bowed the heavens and came down." Bowing the heavens speaks of the great, willing humbling of the Lord of glory when He first came to earth in lowly grace. It speaks too of His coming in solemn judgment at the end of the tribulation. "Darkness was under His feet" shows the character of His judgment: the eyes of the ungodly do not see it. Verse 11 shows the swiftness of His judgment, and the cherub stands for the principle of pure justice in His government. "The wings of the wind" speak of the swift, unstoppable power of the Spirit of God.
The same coming that terrifies enemies is the rescue of God's people:
When His people cry, He rides out. He comes in the same majesty, allowing no evil, in the sovereign power of judgment. But that is deliverance. Notice: He puts blood on the doorposts, He draws them out of many waters. What a wonderful thing that He should ride forth in majesty! No wonder redemption is such a thing! No wonder Christ had to go so low, taking the blow and dealing of this majesty, through grace — for where else could blood be found to put on the doorposts?
One writer reads this storm scene as pointing past David to the grave of Jesus:
The grave of Christ was the centre round which the battle raged in all its fierceness, for there lay the Prince of life. Satan did his utmost. He brought all the power of hell to bear, all "the power of darkness." But he could not hold his captive, because every claim of justice had been met. The Lord Jesus triumphed over Satan, death, and hell, in strict conformity with the claims of righteousness. This is the sinner's joy, the sinner's peace.
- Cry — when His people cry, God rides out; what looks like judgment is their deliverance.
- Throne — the cherub stands for God's government; riding on one means the throne itself is moving in judicial action.
- Speed — the wings of the wind bring the storm's pace and force; darkness hides that judgment from the eyes of the ungodly.
- Reach — the words outgrow David: writers tie them to Israel's rescue from Egypt, to Christ's deliverance from death, and to His judgment at the end.
- Peace — hell could not hold Christ, because every claim of justice had been met; His victory is the sinner's joy and peace.
And he made darkness round about him a tent, Gatherings of waters, thick clouds of the skies.
God comes down to rescue David wrapped in cloud. The storm moves in, and no one can see the One who drives it. Two questions follow: why does God veil Himself at the very moment He acts, and does He still do it?
The image says two things at once. God is at work and out of sight, and the cloud that hides Him also testifies to Him.
"He made darkness around him his canopy" (v. 12). Though God is clearly working behind the scenes, He Himself is not seen, so that people who have no faith are blinded by the darkness. But the "thick clouds, a gathering of water" are still witnesses to the fact that it is the God of creation who is speaking. In fact there is brightness as well as darkness. In a violent storm there may be flashes of bright shining between the clouds, or brilliant lightning may flash suddenly, often kindling "coals of fire."
The same writer sets the storm against three moments when God steps in.
These verses remind us how God stepped in for Israel when they came out of Egypt, and how He will one day step in to judge the world. But they bear directly on what He did after the death of the Lord Jesus, when He raised Him from among the dead... Making darkness His secret place, with His canopy of dark waters and thick clouds, underlines that no one can trace out how He works.
Why cloud and not brightness? One writer ties it to judgment: the darkness is unlike God, and He still makes it His tent.
Yet in judgment God is hidden rather than displayed: it is His "strange work." So He makes the darkness His hiding place. It is His opposite, since He is love and light; and yet He uses it as His tent. He is not the darkness, but He is in it. Where judgment comes, its most awful feature is in fact separation from Him — from the Light. Yet it is not only that. Out of these thick clouds the light flashes — hailstones and coals of fire. God shows Himself even in the judgment that separates from Him.
These words belong to an age before God stepped out into the open.
From many Scriptures we gather a sense of mystery no one could see through, which in people's minds surrounded the being of God. Those who came within reach of His activities felt it most... And Isaiah addresses Him with the words, "Truly, you are a God who hides himself, O God of Israel, the Savior."
One writer points back to Sinai.
God had said to Israel, "I will dwell in the thick darkness"; and at Sinai He told them to keep away... There was a great deal of good there, but He was in His tent of darkness, not seen. God acted towards Israel, but did not show Himself.
What David sang of a hidden God is not the last word.
God is love. God is light. God is in the light. He is revealed. No longer does He "make darkness His covering" (Ps. 18:11). God has been revealed. The Father has been made known. Guilty man has been brought into blessing, far beyond his bare need, and brought into acceptance in the Beloved, "blessed... in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places" (Eph. 1:3).
Yet one kind of darkness has not lifted. One writer separates two darknesses: the one God hid Himself in from sinners, and the one that still lies over our circumstances.
But there is another darkness in which God still dwells. I mean the one that broods or settles over the whole scene of circumstances or providence around us. In that place, God works unseen; at least, usually so. There He says, if I may put it this way, "What I am doing you do not understand now," and we must still walk by faith, where God still dwells in darkness. We shall know later... Faith in His provisions of grace in Christ now draws Him out of the distant darkness where He had righteously hidden Himself from sinners. In the same way, the Glory will by and by bring Him out of the darkness in which He now orders providence for His saints.
- Canopy — God works behind the darkness and stays unseen. The dark blinds unbelief, yet the clouds still witness that the God of creation is speaking.
- Cover — judgment is His "strange work." Darkness is the opposite of what He is, yet He makes it His tent, and the lightning out of it shows Him even in judgment.
- Concealment — the words fit an age when God acted for Israel without showing Himself. Even Isaiah called Him a God who hides Himself.
- Christ — the hiding ends when God makes the Father known. He is in the light, and He brings guilty people into acceptance in the Beloved.
- Clouds — one darkness remains, the darkness over God's providence. Faith walks in it now, and the Glory will bring Him out of it at last.
From the brightness before him Burned forth coals of fire.
David's song in 2 Samuel 22 pictures God answering a cry for help by coming down in a storm. This verse stands at the centre of that storm. What do the light and the burning coals stand for? And why does David tell one man's rescue in the language of storm and fire?
The chapter is a song of victory. Commentators read it as looking far beyond David's own battles.
The twenty-second chapter of 2 Samuel holds David's magnificent song, and it runs parallel with Psalm 18. It is the voice of the Spirit of Christ in David, tied to His triumph over death by the mighty energy of the power of God (Eph. 1:19). In it, as the inspired heading tells us, David gives God praise for rescuing him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul in particular. He gratefully retells the glorious things God did for him. Yet his language leads us at once away from David and all his battles, to that terrible battle which raged around the grave of Jesus.
The verses just before this wrap God in darkness and thick cloud. Yet the darkness is not the whole picture. One writer explains it from an ordinary storm.
God is clearly at work behind the scenes, yet no one sees Him. So the darkness blinds people who have no faith. But the "dark waters and thick clouds" are still witnesses that the God of creation is speaking. There is brightness as well as darkness. In a violent storm there may be bright flashes between the clouds, or lightning may blaze out suddenly and often kindle "coals of fire."
The same writer, commenting on the parallel psalm, asks what that brightness shows and how people answer it.
Though He made the darkness His secret place, there was "brightness before Him." Anyone could see by clear evidence that God was working in the thick clouds, with hailstones and coals of fire (v. 12). When hailstones do dreadful damage and volcanoes erupt and spread terror, people at least call such things "acts of God." Yet they fail to respond to God in faith, and answer Him instead with bitter resentment.
The two accounts differ a little. Psalm 18:12 names hail with the coals of fire. This verse names only the fire.
Some say the breath of the Lord's mouth stands for the gospel going out. One writer denies it, and turns to Psalm 18 for the sense of the words.
I know they say the breath of His mouth is the gospel, but that is only a way to hold a system together. Slaying the wicked is not converting them, and the breath of the Lord is not the gospel… Look at Psalm 18, where this expression is set before us… The same holds for verses 13-15 of that Psalm.
Has God already shown this power? One commentator points to the tomb of Jesus.
This is a lofty celebration of the glory and almighty majesty of the God of the Lord Jesus Christ, shown in His resurrection from the dead in answer to His cry… A first instalment and sample of what is described here came when the angel of Jehovah came down: the earth quaked, and the guards of the grave, which had held the body of the now awakened Christ until then, shook and became like dead men with fear (Matt. 28). An earlier sign of the same mighty power came in the splitting of the rocks and the opening of the graves, when Jesus gave up His spirit after His last loud cry (Matt. 27).
One writer traces the same storm through more than one event. He reads the passage as a single pattern of God stepping in.
It first describes Jehovah coming in, in answer to His cry, to destroy the power of evil (vv. 4-19). This came true at the Red Sea, which the psalm clearly points to. It came true in David's rescue from his enemies, which gave rise to the song. Above all it came true in the resurrection of Christ, the basis and perfect example of all deliverance.
- Cry: the storm answers a cry. Jehovah comes in because His servant called.
- Cloud: God works hidden. Those without faith see only dark waters and thick clouds. Yet those clouds bear witness that He is speaking.
- Brightness: the light before Him is clear evidence that God is acting. People even call such things "acts of God" — and still answer with resentment instead of faith.
- Fire: the coals are judgment, not the gospel. Slaying the wicked is not converting them.
- Deliverance: God gave a small sample of that power at the cross and the empty tomb. The resurrection of Christ is the pattern of every rescue.
Jehovah thundered from the heavens, And the Most High uttered his voice.
David sings this song after a lifetime of being hunted. By verse 14 he pictures the rescue as a storm: God comes down, and the sky itself speaks. Is this poetry about one king's narrow escape, or a picture of something far larger?
The thunder does not come out of nowhere. Earlier in the song the servant is drowning in trouble and calls out. Everything from verse 8 onward is God's reply. One writer, commenting on this same song where it appears again as Psalm 18, sums up its whole movement:
We see in Psalm 18 how God answers to the distress of His people. He rises, and all crumbles in His presence: the full accomplishment of this Psalm will manifest it.
The verse gives God a voice but no visible form.
Such a voice is certainly heard, though He Himself is not seen. Hailstones and lightning often come with the thunder, clear evidence also of the greatness and majesty of God. People may raise their voices in protest against His sovereign actions, but "who can thunder with a voice like His?" In the end, His voice will completely subdue the combined voices of all mankind.
The verse names God twice: first the LORD, then the Most High. "Most High" — Elyon in Hebrew — is a title of its own, and one writer traces where else it appears:
Look at the various places where this name appears, and you will see that it is God's "millennial name above all idolatrous gods, and demons, and all power." In this character God is called "possessor of heaven and earth." So Nebuchadnezzar had to lie under God's judgment until he would "know that the Most High rules in the kingdom of men, and gives it to whomever He will."
So the thunder is not a private favour to David. It is the voice of the One who owns everything, and no rival power outranks Him. Nebuchadnezzar, a king of Babylon, had to be humbled before he would admit it.
The verses just before this one wrap God in thick darkness. Then the thunder breaks out of it. That order is deliberate, and one writer draws out the paradox in it:
Yet in judgment God is hidden rather than displayed: it is His "strange work." So He makes the darkness His hiding place… Out of these thick clouds the light flashes — hailstones and coals of fire; for God is displayed even in the judgment that separates people from Him.
Commentators read this storm on more than one level. One finds its full weight not in David's battles but at the grave of Christ:
What language is here! Where shall we find anything to equal it? The wrath of the Almighty, the thunder of His power, the shaking of creation's entire framework, the artillery of Heaven — all these ideas are set out here in vivid words. They go far beyond anything the human mind could imagine. The grave of Christ was the centre of the fiercest battle, for there lay the Prince of life.
Another writer follows the storm as it builds. At verse 14 the names are unmistakable, and the bolt lands:
It is now plainly Jehovah who thunders in the heavens, and the Most High who gives His voice. And we see where the bolt strikes: His arrows are lightnings, and they scatter and defeat Messiah's enemies. The earth is laid bare to its foundations, and the channels of the waters appear. These words remind us of Israel's passage through the Sea, and they may also find a future fulfilment in the drying up of the Euphrates.
Commentators read this one picture three ways at once: back to Israel's escape through the sea, down into the grave of Christ, and forward to a rescue still to come. They do not choose between these readings; they stack them.
- Cry. The thunder is an answer. God rises at the distress of His people, and everything crumbles in His presence.
- Voice. We hear Him without seeing Him, and in the end His voice overrules every voice raised against Him.
- Title. "Most High" names Him as owner of heaven and earth. No rival power stands above it, and even a proud king like Nebuchadnezzar had to admit it.
- Paradox. Darkness is His covering in judgment, yet the flash out of the cloud shows Him even while judgment separates men from Him.
- Reach. The storm is too large for David alone. It echoes the sea Israel crossed, centres on the grave where Christ lay, and points to a deliverance still ahead.
And he sent arrows, and scattered [mine enemies]; Lightning, and discomfited them.
David's song looks back on rescue after rescue. Here the rescue comes as a storm: God shoots, and the enemy breaks apart. But who is speaking, and which battle are these arrows fired in?
The verse names arrows and lightning, but no sword. One writer, commenting on the same line in Psalm 18, explains why:
He did not need His sword for this. His arrows speak of long-range warfare, and they could strike their mark without error. In the same way an arrow shot at random killed King Ahab, but the hand of God directed it (1 Kings 22:34).
God comes down here because a cry reached Him. One writer also marks this verse as the point where the scene changes:
It first describes Jehovah coming in, in response to His cry, to destroy the power of evil (vv. 4-19). This came true at the Red Sea, which the psalm clearly refers to. It came true in the deliverance of David from his enemies, which gave the occasion for the psalm. Above all it came true in the resurrection of Christ, the basis and perfect example of all deliverance. … Up to verse 15 the principle of God stepping in is the same as it was in Egypt: He acts on the cry of His servant. At verse 15 the direct address to Jehovah marks the change of scene. Then deliverance begins, for that is a step beyond the destruction of the evil.
Several writers hear an older rescue under these words. Right after the arrows, the song says the channels of the sea were uncovered. That points back to Israel's escape from Egypt, where God destroyed Pharaoh's army in the sea:
These verses take us back to the deliverance that God worked at the Red Sea. There we learn the first great result of Christ entering into the sufferings of God's people. It describes the judgment on Pharaoh and his army with magnificent images drawn from nature in upheaval — earthquakes, fire, wind, thick clouds, hail and lightning.
The same picture also reaches forward. Another writer traces the song's build-up from clouds and thunder to the bolt landing, and identifies the arrows:
The third triplet gives the full display. It is now plainly Jehovah who thunders in the heavens, and the Most High who gives His voice. And we see where the bolt strikes: His arrows are lightnings, and they scatter and defeat Messiah's enemies. The earth is laid bare to its foundations, and the channels of waters are seen. These words remind us of Israel's crossing of the Sea. They may also find a further fulfilment in the drying up of the Euphrates in the future (Rev. 16:12).
One writer stops at the sheer scale of the language, and names the battle it pictures:
What language is here! Where shall we find anything to equal it? The wrath of the Almighty, the thunder of His power, the shaking of creation's whole framework, the artillery of Heaven — all these ideas are set out so vividly here that they go beyond all human imagination. The grave of Christ was the centre around which the battle raged in all its fierceness, for there lay the Prince of life. Satan did his utmost. He brought all the power of hell to bear, but he could not hold his captive, because all the claims of justice had been met.
One writer places the scattering still in the future, in a day when God rescues a remnant of His people:
This picture does not match David's deliverance exactly, nor Israel's deliverance out of Egypt. It treats of a time still future and prophetic. It deals with the remnant's deliverance at the time of the end, when God will intervene openly and visibly on their behalf (vv. 8-15). They will be led to death's door, and then God will step in for them and scatter their enemies in an instant. Before this deliverance the remnant will learn something: their Messiah, David's Son, passed through this anguish alone and bore it. He joined Himself to the future distress of His people, so that He might deliver them.
- Cry. The storm in this part of the song is God's answer to a cry — He comes down to destroy the power of evil.
- Arrows. They strike from a distance and never miss; God does not need to come within sword-reach to end the fight.
- Back. The picture reaches back to the Red Sea. The same language of fire, wind, cloud and lightning describes God's judgment on Pharaoh's army.
- Beyond. The scale outruns David's own history. Writers point to the grave of Christ as the centre of the battle, and to Messiah's enemies as the target of the arrows.
- Forward. The same scattering comes again: God lets His people reach death's door, then scatters their enemies in an instant.
And the beds of the sea were seen, The foundations of the world were uncovered At the rebuke of Jehovah, At the blast of the breath of his nostrils.
The storm in David's song reaches its peak here. The sea is laid open to its bed, and the world's foundations lie bare. Nothing heavier than God's breath has done it. Commentators read the picture in several ways. Some look back to the Red Sea, some into the grave of Christ, some forward to a judgment still to come.
David is describing God stepping in for His servant. One writer reads these words inside one long scene, verses 8–20: the earth shakes, God comes down, He thunders from heaven and scatters His enemies with arrows and lightning. Our verse comes at the end of that list. The language is far larger than David's own battles:
What language is here! Where shall we find anything to equal it? Here is the wrath of the Almighty, the thunder of His power, the shaking of creation's whole framework, the artillery of heaven. All these ideas, set out so vividly, go beyond anything human imagination can reach. The grave of Christ was the centre of the battle. There it raged in all its fierceness, for there lay the Prince of life. Satan did his utmost. He brought all the power of hell to bear, all "the power of darkness." But he could not hold his captive, because all the claims of justice had been met.
The wording echoes Israel walking through the divided sea. Yet one writer says the fit is not exact. Neither David's escape nor Israel's rescue from Egypt fully accounts for it:
This deliverance recalls that of Israel, saved from Pharaoh's pursuit, crossing the Red Sea. However, this picture does not correspond exactly to David's deliverance or to Israel's deliverance out of Egypt. It speaks of a time still future and prophetic. It is about the remnant's deliverance at the end of days. Then God will step in for them, openly and in plain sight.
Commentators differ on what the picture points to. Another writer links the same words to both the past and the future:
The earth is laid bare to its foundations, and the channels of waters are seen. These words remind us of Israel's passage through the Sea. They may also find a future fulfilment in the drying up of the Euphrates. (Rev. 16:12.)
Notice what does the work. Not an army and not a weapon, but a rebuke and a breath. One commentator weighs the size of the means against the result:
The sea stands for the nations. In the day of God's judgment their workings will be fully exposed. So will the foundations of the world, shaken so that they give no foundation at all. God will rebuke them with nothing more than the blast of the breath of His nostrils. No man could use his breath as a weapon. But God can use the most unlikely means to bring the greatest judgment on the wicked.
The same writer reads the open seabed as a glimpse into suffering that usually stays hidden:
"Your way is through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen" (Psalm 77:19). The great waters speak of the depths and mystery of suffering, and especially of the sufferings of the Lord Jesus. Now the channels of the sea are seen. This shows the wonderful divine design to bring blessing through the deepest suffering. So we are given the privilege of seeing something of God's great wisdom in the anguish of the cross. Yet we see only "the channels": the depths are still beyond what we can take in.
The open sea shows God's design. The uncovered foundations show something about the world:
The death and resurrection of Christ have laid bare all the world's basic hostility against the Father and the Son, in its ugliest light. No wonder ungodly men, trying to defend the world, have fought so hard against the truth of the resurrection. That truth exposes the very foundations of the world — its basic character of proud defiance against God. For the resurrection of Christ is a rebuke from God to a world that has crucified His Son. Only the breath of His nostrils is a blast that strikes terror into men's hearts.
For another writer, this exposing is what judgment is for:
The judgment of God also reveals the earth as it always is. In the end it will declare the moral character of all its history... Scripture calls that day the day when everything is made plain. This showing will not be of the individual to himself only. It will be of all in the presence of all, making all see light in God's light.
- Breath. A rebuke and a breath are all it takes. God brings the greatest judgment by the most unlikely means.
- Seabed. The open channels show God's design to bring blessing through the deepest suffering. We see the channels; the depths stay beyond us.
- Foundations. The same rebuke lays bare the world's basic character: proud defiance against God, shown up in the death and resurrection of Christ.
- Grave. The storm language points to the battle around Christ's tomb. Satan brought all his power there and could not hold his captive.
- Day. The last judgment will declare the moral character of all history, making all see light in God's light.
He reached forth from above, he took me, He drew me out of great waters;
David's song looks back over a lifetime of danger, and here God reaches down from above to lift one man out of deep water. Two questions follow: whose voice is singing, and what are these "many waters"?
The force of the verse lies in the direction of the movement. Every verb belongs to God. The rescued man only receives. One writer looks closely at the word behind "drew me out."
"He sent from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters." The last phrase uses a word found in only one other place in Scripture. It comes in the explanation of the name given to Moses, and his name came from it. But the link is only a comparison, for someone greater than Moses is here... So the deliverance shows Jehovah Himself, and His glory.
The picture of deep waters recalls Israel's escape at the Red Sea. But one writer says the fit is not exact, and points instead to a day still ahead for God's people.
The first part celebrates deliverance from Saul's hand. This deliverance recalls Israel's rescue, saved from Pharaoh's pursuit as they crossed the Red Sea... But this picture does not fully match David's deliverance, or Israel's deliverance out of Egypt. It concerns a time still future and prophetic. It deals with the deliverance of the remnant at the time of the end. God will act for them in the open, where all can see. They will come to death's door, and then God will step in for them and scatter their enemies in an instant.
Commentators read this at more than one level. Several hear a greater sufferer than David saying "He took me."
Into these sorrows Christ had gone. So the Spirit of God moves from Israel's deliverance at the Red Sea to Christ. He passed through death, surrounded by the floods of ungodly men. God sent from above. So Christ can say, "He took me"; "He drew me out of many waters"; "He delivered me from my strong enemy"; and "the LORD was my support."
If Christ is the speaker, one question remains: what were the waters?
The many waters do not speak of the Lord's suffering from men. They speak of the dark depths of anguish He suffered from God because of our sin. The great work of atonement was now complete, and God stepped in to raise His Son from among the dead. Never again will He suffer the deep waters of judgment... God delivered His Son, not from dying, but from death.
One writer looks at the grave, where the battle was decided.
The grave of Christ was the centre around which the battle raged at its fiercest, for there lay the Prince of life. Satan did his utmost... but he could not hold his captive, because all the claims of justice had been met... It would mean nothing to hear that God, blessed forever, had defeated Satan, a creature of His own making. But we hear that He won the victory as man's representative, as the sinner's substitute. Believing that gives the soul peace beyond words.
Writers also apply the verse to how God saves anyone. He does not only open the door; He brings people in.
Grace provides everything. "All things are ready," the doors are open — that is one side. The other is, "Compel them to come in." It is God's doing; God makes everything ready, and He compels. "He sent from above, He took me, He drew me out of many waters." Who sent the earthquake to the prison guard? ... Who sent the famine to the son who wasted everything? Who comes with bright light into the soul of Saul of Tarsus?
- Above — every verb is God's: He sends, He takes, He draws. The rescued man supplies nothing but the depth he is drowning in.
- Out — "drew" is the word that gave Moses his name. Here the rescue is greater, and it shows Jehovah's own glory.
- Back — the picture is Israel's escape at the Red Sea. Yet writers say it outruns both David's rescue and Israel's.
- Forward — so the song points to a rescue still to come, when God's people reach death's door and He steps in.
- Deeper — the deepest waters were Christ's, suffered from God over our sin. God delivered Him not from dying but out of death. That victory, won as the sinner's substitute, is where peace comes from.
He delivered me from my strong enemy, From them that hated me; For they were mightier than I.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
They encountered me in the day of my calamity; But Jehovah was my stay.
Near the end of 2 Samuel, David sings about a lifetime of being hunted. This verse marks the worst of it: his enemies struck on the day he was already down, and only one thing held him up.
The song thanks God for rescue from Saul and from every other enemy. Its words do not stop with David.
The twenty-second chapter of 2 Samuel holds David's magnificent song, and it matches Psalm 18. It is the voice of the Spirit of Christ in David, tied to His triumph over death by the mighty working of God's power (Eph. 1:19). In it, as the God-given heading tells us, David gives his praise to God for deliverance from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul in particular. He gratefully retells the glorious acts of God on his behalf, but in words that lead us straight from David and all his battles to that terrible battle fought around the grave of Jesus.
The attack came "in the day of my calamity" — the enemy picked his moment. Commentators read the line as pointing past David to Christ, whose enemies struck at His lowest hour.
"They confronted me in the day of my calamity" (v. 18). At the very time He was offering Himself to God in sacrifice, His enemies took advantage of the occasion to heap abuse on Him. "But the LORD was my support." His own disciples abandoned Him, and God alone was His resource.
(The verse number is from Psalm 18, where the same song appears.)
The previous line admits the enemies were "too strong for me." The rescue that follows never denies it.
Satan did all he could against the Lord Jesus, but his apparent victory turned into his defeat. God delivered His Son, not from dying, but from death. So He rescued Him from Satan, and from all who joined Satan in abusing the blessed Christ of God. "For they were too strong for me." The Lord in lowly grace was "crucified in weakness." On the outside His enemies were too strong for Him, but how completely the tables were turned! They confronted Him in the day of His calamity, but Jehovah was His support.
The rescued one brought no strength of his own. So the rescue shows what God is like. Older translations read "my stay" where the ESV has "my support."
"He delivered me from my strong enemy, and from those who hated me, for they were too strong for me." So the deliverance shows and glorifies Jehovah Himself. "They confronted me in the day of my calamity: but Jehovah was my stay."
The same writer carries this on to how we know God today:
This brings out Jehovah's character. It is the glory of the gospel in every part that it reveals Him. We "believe in Him who raised up Jesus our Lord from the dead." So we know Him to be for us, in His righteousness as well as in His love.
One writer traces this rescue back further still, and names who acts in every line of it.
Christ had gone into these sorrows. So the Spirit of God moves from Israel's deliverance at the Red Sea to Christ passing through death, surrounded by the floods of ungodly men. God sent from above, and Christ can say, "He took me"; "He drew me out of many waters"; "He delivered me from my strong enemy"; and "the LORD was my stay."
Not every sorrow in this song is one that only Christ could bear. That is why it still speaks to God's people under pressure.
The Psalm does not present the atoning sufferings of Christ, but His sufferings from the hands of men even to death. God's people still have to meet these sufferings. Christ enters them perfectly. He voices the cry of God's people perfectly, and God hears Him.
- Calamity — the enemy picks his moment. They closed in while He was offering Himself, and His disciples had already gone.
- Confronted — the weakness was real. On the outside, the attackers were the stronger side.
- Carried — nothing was left on His side. The LORD alone held Him up, so the rescue displays God.
- Christ — the rescue was not from dying but from death. Satan's apparent victory turned into his defeat.
- Continued — God's people still meet these sufferings. Christ has entered them, voiced them, and God has heard Him.
And he brought me forth into a large place; He delivered me, because he delighted in me.
David's closing song looks back on a lifetime of rescue. Here the rescue ends in open ground. The reason given is not David's need but God's pleasure. Commentators find the line too large for the man who sang it. They trace it to Christ, to His resurrection, and then to everyone God saves on His account.
Enemies press in and shut a man down. God's answer is room. One writer sees the "broad place" as the position Christ holds now that His work is done, and reads the whole verse as resurrection.
"He brought me out into a broad place." He was confined until He had finished His great work. But in resurrection He has the place of the Head of a new creation, a place of immense blessing that all His own share. "He rescued me, because He delighted in me." Everything about Him — His character, His words, His work — drew the fullest approval of the Father. God raised Christ from the dead, and that is the clear proof.
The large place means liberty, not just safety. What that liberty holds depends on who is in view.
The enemy seeks to bring him into bondage, but God gives him wonderful liberty. For Israel the large place will be blessing in the millennium. But for the Church of God the large place is that of heavenly places in Christ Jesus.
Verse 20 opens a run of statements about clean hands and kept ways. Measured against David's own life, they do not fit — and the writers say so bluntly.
The reason for David's deliverance is that God takes pleasure in His anointed, in all the perfection of His character. But David's own character did not match these verses — not before his fall, and far less after it. David is celebrating the perfection of Someone other than himself. Christ alone could give His Father a reason for loving Him and for saving Him. And His salvation has become His people's salvation.
If deliverance follows delight, what drew the delight? One writer traces it to obedience carried all the way to death. The same standing then passes to the believer.
Here are the grounds of the Messiah's deliverance and exaltation. It was the righteous reward of an obedience that carried through to its final act in death... In His obedience, Jesus was the object of God's full delight: "For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life" (John 10:17)... Perfect obedience receives a reward of perfect honour. And this is the standing the poor believing sinner now has in Christ: blameless, beyond reproach and holy in the sight of God.
The verse can sound as if God rescues those He finds attractive. One writer places the delight elsewhere.
In resurrection the Lord Jesus is no longer confined. He stands in the place of greatest liberty. God delivered Him out of pure delight in His Son. God delivers believers too. Not because He delights in them for themselves, but because He delights in His Son, who represents them in His pure grace. We cannot say what He says next — that the LORD rewarded Him according to His righteousness.
The delight does not stop with Christ alone. One writer makes it a principle that also marks the remnant — the faithful few left in Israel.
But this introduces another principle — the righteousness in which God delighted. It is found fully and perfectly only in Christ as a living man. Yet it also marks the remnant of Israel, the people who have delight in God's law written on their hearts... The whole value of His perfection stands before God for them. His entire life, lived as one with the remnant, pleased God. Yet we must still take the place and condition of the remnant, as David himself did.
- Delight first. God's pleasure, not the sufferer's merit, is the reason for the rescue.
- Delight in whom. The claims that follow never matched David's life. He is singing the perfection of Another — the only One who could give His Father a reason to save Him.
- Delight earned. Obedience carried right through to death drew that pleasure. Resurrection and honour were the reward.
- Delight extended. God delivers believers, not because He finds them delightful in themselves, but because He delights in the Son who represents them.
- Delight enlarges. The rescue ends in a broad place. Confinement is over and liberty begins: for Israel, coming blessing; for the church, heavenly places in Christ.