Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the wicked, and standeth not in the way of sinners, and sitteth not in the seat of scorners;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But his delight is in Jehovah's law, and in his law doth he meditate day and night.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he [is] as a tree planted by brooks of water, which giveth its fruit in its season, and whose leaf fadeth not; and all that he doeth prospereth.
This verse follows straight on from the man who delights in God's law. It pictures him as a tree. Two questions follow: what feeds such a life, and in what sense everything he does prospers.
The tree did not seed itself. Someone chose the spot.
"Planted" — not a wild tree, growing from seed scattered at random by the wind and landing anywhere — but planted. A skilful eye picked out the right spot. A careful hand cleared away everything that would hinder the growth of the tree planted there in rich soil, with every advantage of watchful care that could be given to it.
A fruit tree there is no accident of the landscape.
The fruit-tree is not a natural growth of the soil: a Hand has planted it, and that among the divided streams of an irrigated land.
The word behind "streams of water" tells us how the water reaches the roots.
The word for "the rivers of water" in Ps. 1:3 comes from the root meaning "to divide." Refreshment flows in where whatever would block its entrance is cut apart.
The tree's life depends on what happens out of sight, under the ground.
Underneath the ground the great tree sends out its main roots. Each one has countless tiny rootlets searching in every direction for moisture. In time they reach the wet river-bed. Then every hair-like filament becomes a hungry mouth, taking in as much nourishment as it can from the damp soil… Cut off the supply of water, and the tree must wither and die. Give it too little, and the fruit becomes poor and scarce, while the leaves turn from bright green to dull brown.
The water leads back to verse 2 — the word, and the Spirit who works through it.
Notice who this is said of: the man meditating day and night on Jehovah's law. The Spirit of God acts through the word of God, and there is no other way than this. To handle the Word without the Spirit is only rationalism. And the dream of the Spirit ministering apart from the Word is delusion and fanaticism.
"In its season" rules out haste. Growth takes time, and the fruit is not for the tree itself.
Nothing about it comes too early or half-formed. Truth has to be digested and taken in. But the activity and energy of life are there, and progress day by day… The tree does not produce the fruit for itself. What we find in ourselves is not the point; what the Lord finds is.
The seasons also cover the times when nothing appears to be happening.
More than this, the tree is a fruit tree, producing fruit in its proper season, for there are times of rest also as the fruit is developing.
Fruit and leaf are not the same thing, and the order matters.
Fruit is first in importance, then the unwithered leaf, which we may take to illustrate testimony. Fruit is for God; testimony is given to others around us. Actions and words that commend Christ in the eyes of others are the green leaves of testimony. But if there is no water there will be no greenness.
The same writer sets this beside the seed on rocky ground, where quick green growth collapsed under the sun because the plants "lacked moisture" and had "no root in themselves." Green in a dry land is itself the point:
We have a nature given to us that can live, and does live, when everything around is death. We are like plants set to bud and blossom for the pleasure of our God in a scene where there is everything to grieve His Holy Spirit.
Experience often seems to contradict this line, and commentators face that squarely.
Judged by any human or earthly standard, this statement does not seem to hold at present. The psalmist himself cries, "You have renounced the covenant with your servant… You have breached all his walls; you have laid his strongholds in ruins." Christ Himself says, "I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity." So "in all that he does, he prospers" is not an absolute promise, fulfilled in every sense, in every case, at all times… The very presence of the ungodly, and even of scoffers, implies a testing time for the faithful. Instead of the godly man prospering in all he does, it seems as though the wicked were in prosperity and the godly persecuted and forsaken. But this is only for the present. A judgment is coming which will remove the ungodly; and then of each such person it will indeed be true: in all that he does, he prospers.
Only one life answers this description in full.
But where was this character, called blessed and owned by Jehovah, to be found in perfection? Surely the blessed Man of Psalm 1 is Christ. In His lowly path He was the perfect example of the godly remnant, who are found everywhere in the Psalms.
What looked like His defeat is the proof — and our encouragement:
While His sufferings and death seemed to be His defeat, this was a sacrifice He accomplished that has prospered amazingly in the salvation of countless souls. So let us not be discouraged by any troubling setbacks, for whatever God enables us to do for Him will prosper: "in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:58).
- Planted — a hand cleared the ground and chose the spot. Fruitfulness starts with God's care, not the tree's ambition.
- Watered — the channels feed hidden roots, and the water is the word applied by the Spirit. Cut the supply and the tree dies; give it too little and the fruit shrinks.
- Fruiting — fruit comes in season and is never forced. It grows for what the Lord finds, not for what we find in ourselves.
- Green — fruit is for God; the leaf is testimony to others. Without water there is no greenness.
- Prospering — the promise is not unqualified now, and even Christ said He had labored in vain. Judgment will one day remove the ungodly. He is the blessed Man, and His cross proves that what looks like defeat prospers in the end.
The wicked are not so; but are as the chaff which the wind driveth away.
Psalm 1 has just pictured a man rooted like a tree by streams of water. Verse 4 answers with two words of denial and one image: chaff — so why that verdict on a whole class of people, and when does the wind blow?
The verse begins by cancelling everything said before it. One writer sets the two pictures side by side and lets the gap speak:
"The ungodly are not so": they are the exact opposite in character. Whatever prosperity they may have for the present is short-lived. They themselves are like "the chaff which the wind drives away." Think of the difference between the tree planted by the rivers of water and the chaff which the wind drives away!
(Where older translations say "the ungodly," the ESV says "the wicked.")
Chaff is the husk left over when grain is threshed. The picture is not of something evil so much as something with nothing to it:
When grain was threshed on the threshing floor, they opened doors at both ends. The wind blew through and carried the chaff away. The wheat stayed, because it was heavier. The chaff was of no value, and unbelievers have no moral weight.
Another writer picks up the tree's own words — root and fruit — and notes where threshing floors stood:
The judgment of God shows the rootless, fruitless doer of empty things in his own nothingness. He is chased out of the world, just as the wind carried the useless husk of the grain off the hilltops where the threshing floors stood.
The verse does not deny that the wicked often do well. It denies that their success lasts. That raises a problem, and the answer lies ahead:
They may appear to hold the place of authority, sitting at their ease. Still, in the government of God they will be driven away like the chaff before the wind. For the present the wicked may prosper, and the godly suffer, so the government of God may appear to have failed. This shows an important principle. For the full display of God's holy government — whether in blessing the godly or dealing with the wicked — we must wait for God to step in with judgment in the day to come.
Until then, the two are not kept apart:
They are mingled together now, however different in character — living in the same city, perhaps under the same roof, sitting at the same table, or sleeping in the same bed. But judgment will tell them apart exactly.
One writer sees the verse played out in one man, King Nebuchadnezzar:
Nebuchadnezzar on the throne was a tree (see Dan. 4:22), but his leaf faded. For a brief moment prosperity shone on him. Where is he now, and his glory? "But are like the chaff which the wind drives away." Sadly, it is the ungodly in Israel the Psalm speaks of.
One writer reads the image as a prophecy, and follows it into the Gospels:
"Like the chaff which the wind drives away" is a prophecy of the time when God deals with the ungodly in judgment. That is when "He will clear His threshing floor and gather His wheat into the barn, but the chaff He will burn with unquenchable fire" (Matt. 3:12). Then the ungodly will disappear forever and stop troubling the righteous.
Commentators differ over which judgment is in view. One writer names the day:
What day is that? Not the day when the dead stand before the great white throne, but the day when Christ comes to judge the living. It will begin when He appears with His saints, and will continue until the wicked are destroyed and gone from the land.
Verse 4 is not a one-off warning. One writer looks at who is left once the chaff is gone:
There will be the cutting off of the ungodly ones like chaff, and those who remain are the godly. There is a godly remnant in the midst of the ungodly, and the ungodly are to be cut off. That is the basis of all we have in the Book of Psalms.
- Not so. The verse opens by cancelling verse 3: everything true of the rooted tree is untrue here.
- No root. Chaff is the husk of threshed grain: "quickly consumed, or easily swept away by the wind" (Morrish Bible Dictionary). The verse names the wicked by what they lack, not only by what they do.
- No weight. Wheat stays on the floor because it is heavy; chaff leaves because it is not. Unbelievers have no moral weight to hold them.
- No future. Present success does not disprove God's government. It only means the wind has not yet risen.
- No place. The chaff is not just blown off the floor but out of the scene. When God steps in, none of the wicked are left standing in the land.
Therefore the wicked shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
Psalm 1 has just set two pictures side by side: a tree by streams of water and chaff blown off a threshing floor. Verse 5 draws the conclusion: a coming day turns that difference of character into a difference of place. (The older translation these writers quote reads "the ungodly shall not stand" where the ESV has "the wicked will not stand.")
Right now the two groups look alike from the outside. The coming judgment changes that.
They are mixed together now, however different in character. They live in the same city, perhaps under the same roof, sitting at the same table, or sleeping in the same bed. But judgment will tell one from the other with complete accuracy.
Until then, appearances run the other way.
They may seem settled in the place of authority, sitting at their ease. All the same, under the government of God they will be driven away like chaff before the wind. For now the wicked may prosper and the godly suffer. So the government of God may look as though it had failed. This brings out an important principle. God's holy government has two sides: blessing the godly and dealing with the wicked. Neither side is fully displayed until He steps in to judge in the day to come.
"Stand" here is not about posture. One writer draws on the old Aramaic paraphrase of the Psalms, known as the Chaldee, to show what the word carries.
The Chaldee renders in the judgment as the great day. The force of shall not stand, then, is that the wicked will not stand before God so as to be accepted by Him as justified. The Chaldee puts this well too: they shall not be pure, or innocent.
The same writer cites the Hebrew scholar Delitzsch on the verb itself. It means "to continue to stand." So the wicked cannot hold their ground once God examines them.
Commentators differ on the timing. One reads the verse as the judgment of the living when Christ appears, not the final scene before the throne.
What day is that? Not the day when the dead will stand before the great white throne, but the day when Christ comes to judge the living. It begins when He appears with His saints, and goes on until the wicked are wiped out of the land.
Another reads it as the great white throne, and presses the warning home.
There may not be much in the Old Testament about the coming judgment of the ungodly. But there is enough to warn against leaving God out of life. The verse states plainly that "the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment." We know that judgment will have Christ as Judge at the great white throne. Those who have left God out of their thoughts, their plans and their ways cannot expect God to treat them as righteous.
The second half of the verse is not only a shut door. It also points to a company that comes into being after judgment.
Notice that the psalm sets both groups in front of a judgment close at hand. In that judgment the wicked are driven away like chaff, and the righteous form the congregation... Blessing is on the righteous, but these shall be the people when the ungodly are driven away as chaff.
Another writer looks past the judgment to the people who will make up that congregation.
The Psalm goes beyond this judgment and gives a glimpse of the godly remnant who will then be the congregation of the righteous. "All your children shall be taught by the LORD" (Isaiah 54:13). No sinner will last among them.
Being shut out of that company is not an arbitrary penalty. It follows from what verse 1 already showed.
Verse 1 has shown us that the godly are even now separated from the ungodly. Can the ungodly expect to inherit the same blessedness as the righteous in eternity? Impossible! Simply being with the righteous would be unbearable misery for them. And God would not let ungodly enemies of the Lord Jesus distress the righteous by their presence.
- Mixed now. The godly and the ungodly share the same city, table and roof; nothing on the surface separates them yet.
- Sorted then. Judgment tells one from the other with complete accuracy. God's government has long looked like failure; that day makes it plain.
- Cannot stand. The verb means to keep standing. The wicked cannot hold their ground before God, and He will not accept them as justified.
- Cannot belong. God shuts the wicked out of that congregation. Verse 1 showed the two were already separate in character; judgment only makes it visible.
- Two readings. Commentators differ on the timing: Christ judging the living at His appearing, or the great white throne. Both agree the verse warns anyone who leaves God out of life.
For Jehovah knoweth the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked shall perish.
Psalm 1 ends by giving the reason its two roads end so differently: the LORD knows one, and the other runs out. The whole weight of the verse falls on two words — what it means for God to "know" a way, and what it means for a way to "perish."
Verse 6 is not a new thought. It gives the reason behind the two ends the psalm has just described. It also looks ahead to a day when good and bad are no longer mixed together, and faith does not have to wait for that day to see how things stand.
Judgment is coming, and the Book of Psalms as a whole looks toward it. Then the present mixed state will give place to a clear separation. God will carry out His sentence on earth before the final one for eternity. This is no secret to faith, which enters into His mind and will before that day.
God is aware of everyone, so bare awareness cannot be the point here. Commentators read this knowing as approval.
Meanwhile the Lord knows the way of the righteous — He both discerns and approves it. But the way of the ungodly, however successful it looks now, will surely perish in the time of judgment.
Some writers quote older translations that read "ungodly" where the ESV reads "wicked." One writer sets this verse beside a line about the proud, where God's knowing sounds very different:
So it is said, "The Lord knows the way of the righteous" (Ps. 1:6). Of course He also knows the proud. But to mark that off from this approving knowledge, Scripture adds, "The proud He knows from far away" (Ps. 138:6).
The knowing goes further than approval from a distance.
What He approves lasts, and nothing will ever break His seal on it. And so He "knows" the way of the righteous. He knows it well as something that is His own. It is the way He Himself walks, and the way where fellowship with Him is found. "But the way of the ungodly perishes."
Until now the psalm has spoken of a single man. Verse 6 widens the picture.
Here the righteous are not one but many. In the Greek Old Testament the word is plural, and they are distinct from "the Man." The LORD knows their way, but the way of the ungodly shall perish. Setting the knowing and the perishing side by side means destruction for the ungodly and preservation for the righteous. Yes, it is a moral approval of the righteous, though it does not rise to the height of God's delight in the blessed Man.
The same writer applies this to people whose road is hard:
God knew their path of sorrow, pictured in the Psalms that follow. That holds a store of comfort for the tried and suffering. God appoints the way and knows it. Its ending is blessing, and that too is settled.
Before the judgment, the righteous get no public proof that they are right.
In the meantime the godly soul has the comfort of the secret approval of the Lord.
The verse does not say the wicked perish; it says their way does. One writer weighs what each way earns at the end.
The One who takes full account of all mankind knows the way of the righteous. Their history on earth has given time to prove their consistent "way" to be commendable and worthy of a full reward. But the way of the ungodly (being consistently corrupt) shall perish. They have nothing of value to reward. All they have done, whatever pride they took in it, God will banish into eternal oblivion. Their personal end will be worse than this.
- Two ways. The psalm ends with two roads: God knows one, and the other runs out. Everything here hangs on which one you are walking.
- Known. God's knowing here means He discerns and approves — not like the proud, whom He knows from far away.
- Shared. God knows this way as His own, because He walks it; what He approves lasts, and nothing breaks His seal on it.
- Many. The word for the righteous is plural. The blessed Man does not walk alone. God appoints their sorrowful path, knows it, and ends it in blessing.
- Perished. The other way keeps nothing. God banishes whatever was built along it into oblivion, and the end of those who walk it is worse still.
Why are the nations in tumultuous agitation, and [why] do the peoples meditate a vain thing?
Psalm 2 opens with a question rather than a statement: why are the nations in uproar, and what do they expect to gain? The psalm answers its own question, and the answer ends with God's King set on Zion.
Older translations read "heathen" where the ESV has "nations." One commentator explains the word and gives a more literal rendering of the line.
The word translated "heathen" often appears in the Old Testament for the various nations of the earth apart from Israel. A more literal translation renders the opening words like this: "Why are the nations in tumultuous agitation, and why do the peoples meditate a vain thing?" With this simple explanation the words become clear. They say just what any one of us might want to ask about the agitated nations of today.
One word ties this verse to the psalm before it. Where the ESV has "plot," older translations read "imagine."
"Imagine" in Psalm 2 is the same word as "meditate" in Psalm 1:2.
Nations fight for many reasons, and those reasons change with each generation. The psalm looks under all of that to something that never changes.
There are countless causes of strife among the nations. They lie on the surface of things, and they vary from age to age, even from year to year. The inspired psalmist probes beneath the surface. He sees that the real root of it all is the built-in lawlessness of fallen man. It is the desire to be rid of any restraint that the Lord and His Anointed might place on them. This lawlessness is the very essence of sin.
The verse calls the plotting empty before it says how it ends. The rest of the psalm shows why.
The nations rage, the peoples plot in vain; the kings of the earth and the rulers would break free from the bonds of Jehovah and His Anointed. But this rising only brings wrath and displeasure, and all resistance to it will fail. He who sits in the heavens will laugh; Adonai scorns them. Despite it all, Jehovah has set His King on His holy hill of Zion. Such is the sure counsel of God made good by His power. Man's pride in resisting only brings his own ruin.
History has already seen this coalition once. One writer points to the crucifixion, and to a further alliance still to come.
The first stanza (Psalm 2:1-3) predicts that Israel and the nations will join in open resistance to the claims of Jehovah and His Anointed. The earthly powers agree together to break their bonds and throw off their cords. This prediction came true when Jews and Gentiles joined to crucify the Messiah, Jehovah's Anointed, and the apostles quoted it that way in their prayer to the Lord (Acts 4:24-28). The evil alliance against Jehovah and His Christ foretold in this psalm will have a further fulfilment in the future agreement between the Jews who have turned from God and the head of the revived fourth Gentile empire (Revelation 13).
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Commentators differ on how far the events of Acts 4 match the psalm's own scope.
Their quotation from Psalm 2 does not apply directly. The psalm speaks of the bitter hostility of Gentiles, Israel, kings and rulers at the time of the coming tribulation. Yet the rulers of Israel were already showing that hostility... But in beautiful triumph the disciples add, "to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place." The emptiness of man's hostility and pride is tragic: it is God in control, not they.
The psalm does not leave its opening question hanging.
This psalm does not merely ask the question. It answers it in full. What is more, the answer comes with prophetic insight that goes to the root of things. It also gives foresight that carries us to the end of things, when the agitation and rage of the nations will cease. If we profit by this prophetic insight — above all if we see the contrast between this psalm and Psalm 1 — we shall gain much moral instruction. And if we profit by the foresight it gives, we will not be too troubled, even while we live in the middle of the unrest.
- Question. The verse asks why the nations rage, and what their plotting can ever achieve. Any reader could ask the same about the news today.
- Root. The surface causes of strife change from year to year. Under them lies the built-in lawlessness of fallen man: the wish to be free of any restraint from the Lord and His Anointed.
- Empty. The plotting is empty because it fails. All resistance runs into wrath, and man's presumption only brings his own ruin.
- Fulfilled. Jews and Gentiles united to crucify God's Anointed, and the first believers prayed this psalm in Acts 4. Commentators differ on whether the psalm reached its full scope then, or waits for a last alliance still to come.
- Settled. God has set His King on His holy hill. Take in the psalm's foresight, and you need not be shaken while the noise goes on.
The kings of the earth set themselves, and the princes plot together, against Jehovah and against his anointed
Psalm 2 opens with the world in revolt against God, and verse 2 names who is behind it: not mobs, but kings and rulers, sitting down to plan. Who is this "Anointed" they plot against, and what do they hope to gain?
The verse names "kings of the earth" and "rulers." One writer reads these as Gentiles and Jews, and points to the day two old enemies became friends:
The Gentiles are "the nations" of verse 1 and "the kings of the earth" of verse 2. The Jews are "the peoples" of verse 1 and "the rulers" of verse 2. They agree together, but only in carrying out the oppressive persecution of the Lord's Anointed. If we turn to Luke 23:12 we find that "Herod and Pilate became friends with each other that very day." What were they made friends about? They wished to put out the light of grace and truth which shone in the Person of the Lord's Anointed. That brought them together and made them friends, who had been enemies before.
One writer explains the word and what the anointing means:
I change the word "Anointed" to "Messiah," as the more usual and correct word for the Psalms. Messiah and Christ both mean "the Anointed." The former is Hebrew, the latter Greek. The anointing is consecration. In His case, first as Prophet, for He carries the word of the Most High. Second as Priest, the one who leads divine worship. Third as King, the one who governs. "God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power" (Acts 10:38).
The next verse states their aim: to break bands and cords. One writer explains what those cords are:
What do they plot together to do? To break in pieces the bonds and cords of God's restraining power (v. 3). Men do not see God at work restraining evil, but they feel it in their consciences, and many resent it deeply. They try hard to silence conscience. They refuse any reference to God's word, which they say is an intrusion into their private rights. They see this as an effort to tie them up when they want to be free to do as they please. In this the nations — people, kings and rulers — unite together, intending to do away with the authority of God.
The first believers prayed these words back to God and saw them fulfilled in their own day:
The first stanza (Ps. 2:1-3) predicts the coalition of Israel and the nations in defiant resistance to the claims of Jehovah and His Anointed. The united counsel of the earthly powers is to break Their bands and cast away Their cords. This prediction came true when Jews and Gentiles joined together to crucify the Messiah, Jehovah's Anointed. The apostles quoted it that way in their prayer to the Lord (Acts 4:24-28). This Psalm also foretells a further evil alliance against Jehovah and His Christ. It is a future agreement between the Jews who have turned away from God and the head of the restored fourth Gentile empire (Rev. 13).
Verse 4 shows God's reaction to all this plotting:
The Scriptures do not often present God as laughing. Three times in the Psalms they do, and once in Proverbs. In each case the same thing is in view. If men refuse His mercy, if they mistreat His people, if they lawlessly deny Him and His Anointed and mock His authority and His Word, He will judge them in due season. And not only judge them, but cast them down in a way that makes them supremely ridiculous, objects of derision to all created intelligences. The "laugh" will be on God's side in that day.
Their planning runs into a decision already made. The same writer points to one word in verse 6:
The ragings, the imaginations, the counsel taken by kings and rulers, all comes to nothing, and God's counsel stands. His purposes are not delayed one hour, and His King is set exactly as intended upon His holy hill of Zion. The word "set" is literally "anointed," as the margin of a reference Bible shows. The rulers and the kings will depart in judgment, the shouting and the tumult will die, and Jehovah's King will be anointed according to the decree.
Writers see the psalm reaching beyond Calvary to a final, open version of the same alliance:
Even today the nations are throwing aside the truth of the word of God as of no serious consequence. So after the Lord takes believers home to heaven at the Rapture, the kings of the earth will be fully ready to "set themselves" in determined hostility against God (v. 2). God's anointed King also, who was once cast out and crucified, will be the object of their hatred, for they know they have not really got rid of Him. Though they rejected Him from the earth, He has been received in heaven, though they don't like to admit it.
- Counsel — The rebellion is deliberate, not accidental: kings and rulers sit down and plan against the LORD and His Anointed.
- Cords — What they want broken is God's restraint, felt in conscience and resented as an intrusion on their freedom.
- Christ — "Anointed" is Messiah in Hebrew, Christ in Greek: God's consecrated Prophet, Priest and King.
- Cross — Pilate and Herod became friends over one thing, and the apostles prayed this psalm as fulfilled in the death of Jesus.
- Crown — Their counsel comes to nothing; God's counsel stands, and the King they refused is anointed on Zion exactly as decreed.
Let us break their bonds asunder, and cast away their cords from us!
Psalm 2 opens with the nations in uproar. Verse 3 gives the words of the revolt — spoken not by one tyrant but by the whole human race. So what are these "bonds" and "cords"? Who put them there? And what happens to those who throw them off?
These are not chains put on by an enemy. The "their" of the verse points back to the Lord and His Anointed — this is God's own hold on people.
In Psalm 2 the kings and the rulers of the earth take counsel together against the Lord and against His Anointed. They say, "Let us burst their bonds apart and cast away their cords from us" — that is, the bonds and cords in which God held and restrained them.
Men do not feel this restraint as an outward force. They feel it inside, in the conscience — and they resent it.
Men do not see God at work restraining evil, yet they feel it in their consciences. Many resent this. They try hard to silence conscience and to shut out every reference to God's word, which they call an intrusion into their private rights! They consider this an effort to bind them by cords when they want to be free to do as they please.
Nations quarrel over a thousand shifting issues. Verse 3 goes underneath all of them to name one cause.
The inspired Psalmist probes beneath the surface. He sees that the real root of it all is the inborn lawlessness of fallen man — the desire to be rid of the restraint which the Lord and His Anointed might impose on them. This lawlessness is the very essence of sin.
The motive is not intellectual. It is practical — men want room for what they already know will not stand inspection.
The psalm shows the nations in an uproar against God and against Christ, trying in vain to throw off divine authority and restraint. They say, "Let us burst their bonds apart and cast away their cords from us." Men want to banish every public recognition of God so they can pursue desires that, as conscience tells them, will not bear the light of God. In Acts 4:26-27 the Spirit of God applies this Scripture to the rejection of Christ by "the Gentiles, and the people of Israel." Men formed this alliance against God and Christ at the cross, and it is still the principle that governs the world.
Few people today say these words out loud. But the same attitude shows up in how people handle the Bible.
God holds and exercises the consciences of men by His Word. But suppose men refuse to accept the Word as the Word, and claim the right to keep or reject whatever parts suit their moods and whims. What hold has God upon them then? They have in this cast away His cords from them and burst His bonds apart, and they imagine that they are free.
The Psalm looks forward as well as back. Commentators expect the loose drift of today to harden into one deliberate act.
There is to be one last great rising against Jehovah and against His Christ. Its aim is to rid mankind once for all of those bonds and cords. Men feel them to be leftovers from a less enlightened, less scientific age, and so an unbearable check on human progress and glory. A day is coming when almost the whole world will treat the Christian religion as a leftover from a darker age, no longer to be tolerated.
The verse treats God's limits as an insult. Read the other way round, those limits are the reason the world still stands.
God Himself places restrictions upon men, and when God acts in this way men begin to say, "Let us burst Their bonds apart, and cast away Their cords from us." Yet how thankful we should be for the restraining hand of God! In creation and in the moral realm we owe much to the limits God sets in His power and His wisdom.
Heaven shows no alarm. The next verse answers the revolt.
This is how He will fight all man's enmity against Himself and against His Anointed. What divine irony! "Let us burst their bonds apart and cast away their cords from us!" God answers: "He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision!"
- Cords — the bonds are God's own restraint on men, felt in the conscience, not chains from an enemy.
- Root — that wish to be rid of restraint is the deepest cause of human unrest, and it is the essence of sin.
- Motive — men push God out of public life to chase desires that cannot bear His light.
- Reach — that alliance took shape at the cross, still rules how men handle the Bible, and will end in one final rising.
- Result — the restraint men resent is the mercy that holds the world together, and God answers their revolt with laughter.
He that dwelleth in the heavens shall laugh, the Lord shall have them in derision.
In Psalm 2 God answers the world's revolt with a sound, not an army. It is laughter from a throne that nothing on earth can shake. The verse raises sharp questions. How can God laugh at rebellion? Who is the One sitting there? And why does the laughter not turn at once into judgment?
The psalm has just shown the nations in uproar and the kings taking counsel. Verse 4 turns from the noise below to the quiet above.
From a world in revolt we pass to the calm of heaven to learn God's thoughts of man's vain efforts. The great men of the earth — its political leaders, its scientists, its philosophers — may join together to throw off all recognition of God. But their efforts do not move Him. The Christ of God "sits in the heavens," and holds man's revolt in derision. Men rage on earth; God laughs in heaven. Human ideas here show us heaven's contempt for man's folly.
Laughter is a response to something absurd. The absurdity is the gap between what the rebels announce and what they can do.
Well might the God of heaven and earth laugh at their stupidity! For they are like little children who gather against their national government and tell the authorities, "We are cancelling every law you have ever passed. We will refuse to obey anything you say." Of course, this would only be laughable. They have no power to carry out their schemes. But it is amazing how long God bears with this evil before judging it outright.
The word behind "the Lord" in this verse is Adonai — a title of lordship, and one commentators connect with Christ exalted as man. Some therefore read the derision of this verse as His.
"He that sits in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall have them in derision." That is, Christ Himself shall have them in derision.
That seat explains why the psalm's threat has not yet fallen. The One whom men rejected on earth is waiting, not absent.
Heaven is silent till the appointed time comes. Here we have the exalted position of the rejected Christ, as in Psalm 110. He sits in the heavens. His place is at the right hand of God. He shares the Father's throne. In infinite patience He is waiting, silent about all that wicked men do in dishonouring His Name. But when the final rebellion takes place on earth, then He will laugh at them and hold them in derision.
Commentators differ on when the laughter comes. Some read it as heaven's present answer to man's folly. Others place it at the final rebellion.
God laughing is rare in Scripture, and it is never light-hearted. It points forward to a reversal that will be public.
The Bible rarely pictures God laughing. Three times in the Psalms they do so, and once in Proverbs, and in each case the same thing is in view. If men refuse His mercy, mistreat His people, and defy Him and His Anointed, mocking His authority and His Word, God will judge them in due season. He will not only judge them. He will bring them down in a way that makes them look utterly ridiculous — an object of scorn to every created being. The "laugh" will be on God's side in that day.
Between the laughter and the wrath, God is doing something the rebels never expected.
Futile and wicked effort! The murderous violence of man only fastens tighter the bands and cords he would tear apart. … But this is far from all in the second Psalm. Then He will speak to them in His wrath and terrify them in His fury. This, however, is not yet. God is not now sending judgments to punish their evil and crush their pride. Instead His grace is sending out the gospel — repentance and forgiveness of sins preached in the name of Jesus to all the nations, beginning at Jerusalem.
If God is unshaken, the believer watching a hostile world can be unshaken too.
Eternal confusion will mark all the opposition of men and devils. This gives sweet rest to the heart, in a scene where everything seems so contrary to God and so contrary to faith. We look at the circumstances and influences around us in the world. Our spirits would often sink, if we did not have the settled assurance that "the wrath of man shall praise" the Lord.
- Seated — the nations rage below, but God does not stand up to defend Himself. He sits, and heaven stays calm. That calm shows how little the revolt threatens Him.
- Seated and laughing — the laughter is not cruelty. Rebels cancel God's authority with their words, but they have no power to do it.
- Seated as Christ — commentators name the One on the throne: the rejected Christ, now at God's right hand. He waits in patience for the appointed time.
- Seated while grace runs — the wrath has not come yet. In the meantime God is sending the gospel of forgiveness to all nations.
- Seated until He speaks — the silence will break. He will speak in wrath, and the mockers will become the mocked.
Then will he speak to them in his anger, and in his fierce displeasure will he terrify them
Psalm 2 has just shown heaven laughing at a world in revolt; now the laughter stops and God opens His mouth. That turn from patience to terror raises two questions: when does it happen, and why is God silent now?
The striking thing here is not that God acts, but that He speaks. Until then He stays quiet while men speak against Him.
God not only holds these efforts of men in derision, but the time is coming when God will "speak to them in His wrath." For long ages God has been speaking in grace. He has kept silent while man rebels against His authority. God, however, has not been indifferent to "all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have spoken against Him." God will break His silence. When God speaks it will be in wrath, showing "His fury," and men will be silent in terror.
Note the reversal. Now men speak and God is silent; then God speaks and men have nothing to say.
The verse does not say where God speaks from, or what He does next. One writer supplies both.
These worldly powers band together to throw off all allegiance to Jehovah and His Christ. Adonai (Jehovah's title as "Lord of all the earth") treats their plot with contempt (Ps. 2:4-6). He will speak to them in His wrath from heaven (see Heb. 12:25-26). They organise their hostility against Jehovah and His Anointed, and He answers by setting His King on Zion, His mountain of holiness. So the "counsel" of man's might and wisdom comes to nothing.
God's answer to the plot is not only wrath. It is a King set on His holy hill, and man's best plan comes to nothing.
The little word that opens the verse is a date-stamp. One writer marks what that word rules out: this wrath has not fallen yet.
Futile and wicked effort! The murderous violence of man only fastens tighter the bands and cords he wanted to burst. He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision. But this is far from all in the second Psalm. Then He will speak to them in His wrath and terrify them in His fury. But this is not yet. Instead of judgments to punish their evil and overwhelm their pride, His grace is meanwhile sending out the gospel — repentance and forgiveness of sins preached in the name of Jesus to all the nations, beginning at Jerusalem.
So the gap between verse 4 and verse 5 is the age we are living in. The delay is not weakness; it is the gospel going out.
That leaves the question of what kind of scene this is. One writer answers it by naming what this psalm is not.
Psalm 2 is the time when the judgment is ending, and the Son puts government right by the power of His wrath. "Now therefore, O kings, be wise," for if the Son's wrath kindles, all will be over with you. This has nothing to do with the gospel of God's grace. The kings of the earth are not in relationship with the Father and the Son, but in rebellion against Jehovah and His Christ. It is a direct question of judgment — the closing scene.
The verse is prophecy, not history yet. So the psalm's closing lines still offer men a way out.
Psalm 2 is a prophecy. What does it say? It says that the kings of the earth and the rulers are going to plot together against Jehovah and His Anointed. It says Jehovah will "speak to them in His wrath, and terrify them in His fury." If men do not "kiss the Son," they will perish "when His wrath is quickly kindled."
Older translations end that line "when His wrath is kindled but a little."
- Silence — God has been quiet through long ages of rebellion. That silence is grace, not indifference. He has kept account of every hard word spoken against Him.
- Speech — God speaks at last. He speaks from heaven as Lord of all the earth, and terror leaves men silent.
- Timing — "then" is not now. Between heaven's laughter and heaven's wrath, His grace sends the gospel to all nations.
- Judgment — the Son enforces government by His wrath. This scene is not the gospel of grace; it is the closing scene.
- Refuge — the "then" is still future, so the psalm's own answer stands open: kiss the Son before His wrath kindles.
And *I* have anointed my king upon Zion, the hill of my holiness.
God answers a world in revolt with one sentence. It is not an argument but an announcement: the throne is already given. Three questions follow. Who is this King? Why Zion? And how can God call a thing done that no one can yet see?
Verses 1–3 describe nations and rulers plotting to throw off God's authority. This verse is the reply, and its force is that the plotting changes nothing.
The rage, the plotting, and the plans that kings and rulers make all come to nothing, and God's counsel stands. His purposes are not delayed one hour, and He sets His King exactly as intended on Zion, His holy hill... The rulers and the kings will depart in judgment. The shouting and the uproar will die away. And Jehovah will anoint His King, just as the decree said.
The word "set" really means "anointed," and man's opposition to God cannot defeat His purpose. How puny man is — all his efforts to dethrone God will come to nothing. The rightful king of Israel will reign in Zion.
The word "my" is deliberate. It sets God's choice against the king the people chose for themselves.
Jehovah loves to say "My King." He is the true David, the man after God's own heart, whom He chose to feed His people. Saul was the opposite. Saul was the people's own choice, made when they had rejected Jehovah as their king. God has a king in store, and He will show Him at the right time. He will take everything out of the usurper's hand and give it to the One whose right it is.
Zion was not a neutral address. God chose this hill at the lowest point in Israel's history.
No mountain in the Old Testament stood in such formal contrast with Sinai as Zion. Sinai was the unforgettable scene where the nation was put under responsibility to the law. Zion was where Jehovah stepped in with grace for His king, at a time when everything lay in ruins. People and priests alike were wicked. The Philistines had taken the ark. Ichabod was confessed. Israel's king and his sons were killed. And the Jebusite was not only in the centre and stronghold of Jerusalem but defiant and insulting. Then it was that Jehovah, as He chose David, so also chose the mount Zion which He loved. And there He will set His king, on Zion, His holy hill.
So what does that hill hold? Another writer lists it plainly.
"You have come to Mount Zion." What do you get there? What is said of Mount Zion is that it is the hill of grace. It is where God finds His rest. It says, God will dwell there forevermore. He loves it. Blessing is there; there God commands blessing, life forevermore. It is the hill on which He places His king. And why do you think He has set His king there? It is for blessing. If God raises up a king, it is for blessing, not for the destruction of man... No doubt the rebellious must suffer judgment, but God's thought in a kingdom is salvation.
Zion is one hill, but the psalm does not stop there. It goes on to give this King the nations, and it describes a rule unlike the gospel that goes out now.
Two things are set forth here. First, God anoints the Son as King on Zion, His holy hill. Then He gives Him the nations as His inheritance. Zion is His throne; the nations, His inheritance. Second, His way of dealing with the nations is the opposite of the gospel — "You shall break them with a rod of iron." In the gospel, the rod of Christ is a rod of goodness and love. It is everything that is sweetest and strongest in His love. It is not a rod of iron.
Commentators read the past tense as certainty, not as something already visible. The world rejected this King, and His throne is still ahead.
In Psalm 2 you find Christ spoken of as come to this world, and rejected... In that character as King in Zion, and Son of God, as born into this world, He was utterly rejected; yet God will set Him on His holy hill in Zion.
Why then can God speak of it as finished?
God's counsels will prevail so surely that He can speak of them as already done — "I have set my King on Zion, my holy hill." Divine power carries out divine counsels.
- As for me. God speaks for Himself: kings plot, and His counsel is not delayed one hour.
- Set. The word means "anointed" — the King men reject is the King God commissions.
- My. God's own choice, the true David, over against the king people choose for themselves.
- Zion. The hill of grace, chosen when everything else had collapsed, where God sets a king for blessing.
- Done. Spoken in the past tense because divine power always accomplishes divine counsels.
I will declare the decree Jehovah hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; *I* this day have begotten thee.
The kings of the earth plot against the LORD and against His Anointed, and God answers by setting His King on Zion. Now the King speaks for Himself, and the words He repeats raise the psalm's deepest question: who is this King, and when was He begotten?
One writer asks why this King can stand against all opposition, and ties the answer to the courage of the first believers who prayed this psalm back to God:
Why is it that the King in Zion can stand against all the hatred and opposition of the enemy? Think of the day of His rejection. His followers were only a few weak Jews. Yet soon after Pentecost they could take up this second psalm and quote it back to God. They used it as an argument for why He should give them all boldness to speak the Word without fear. It was because that King in Zion was His Son. "I will declare the decree," says the Son; and then He declares it. "You are My Son," God had said to Him; "today I have begotten You." He is in His kingly place as Son of God, and who dares stand against the Son of God and succeed?
One writer reads the Son title as belonging to Christ come into the world as Israel's promised King:
The New Testament quotes Psalm 2:7 for Christ as Son of God in this world. It is not His eternal Sonship, as some early Christian writers thought. It is not His resurrection either, which others taught by misreading Acts 13:33. His birth in time as Messiah is the point: "You are My Son: today I have begotten You."
The same writer notes that this changes nothing about what He always was:
Becoming man in no way lowered His Sonship. He is Son of God eternally. He was still, and no less, Son of God when born of the virgin, just as He is Son of God in resurrection and forever in glory.
The verse has two clauses, and writers read them as covering two different spans:
In the next sentence we pass from eternity to time. "Day" is a measure of time, not of eternity: "today I have begotten You." Now we undoubtedly have the incarnation of the Son. It is the Old Testament description that matches the New Testament ones. "The Word became flesh." The "Son born of a woman." "That holy child who will be born of you will be called the Son of God."
Another writer calls the first of the two expressions timeless:
There are two important expressions in this verse. One is a timeless expression, "You are my Son" — what the Messiah is to God who is His Father. We can carry this expression back into eternity. It expresses the divine intimacy and pleasure resting in the Father's heart towards this blessed Man.
Commentators differ over whether "today" points to the birth of Christ or to His resurrection. One writer traces where the New Testament takes up the psalm's Son title, and where it does not:
Here Messiah speaks, and we learn more about Him. He is not only King but Son. This is one of the Scriptures quoted in Hebrews 1 to establish the deity of Christ. Some have thought this verse refers to resurrection because of the way Acts 13:33 uses the passage, but this is a mistake. Look at Acts 13 carefully and you will see that it deals with resurrection in verse 34, not 33. The word "again" should be left out.
The decree does not stop at a name. It hands the King the nations, and calls the kings of the earth to submit:
The decree of God is that His Son shall be anointed — that is, declared King over all the earth — and He invites the kings of the earth to submit to Him. He says to them, "I am about to speak in my wrath. I give the inheritance of the nations to Christ. He will bruise you with a rod of iron; He will break you in pieces. Now then, submit yourselves to Him, to my Son, King in Zion." These kings follow their own ways. Yet God has decreed His reign surely and beyond recall, and He will bring it to pass despite the kings of the earth.
- Decree — the King does not argue with the world's plotting. He publishes a decree. His right rests on God's word, not on man's consent.
- Son — the decree names Him: the King in Zion is God's Son, and that is why no opposition can stand against Him.
- Today — "today" is a time word. Most writers here read it of His birth in time as Messiah. Others tie it to resurrection through Acts 13:33.
- Unchanged — becoming man never lessened His Sonship. He is Son eternally, Son born of the virgin, Son in resurrection and in glory.
- Inheritance — the same decree grants Him the nations. God warns the kings to submit before the rod of iron falls.
Ask of me, and I will give thee nations for an inheritance, and for thy possession the ends of the earth
Verse 7 gave the decree: "You are my Son; today I have begotten you." Verse 8 carries it on. Jehovah now invites His King to ask. His answer to a world in revolt is a grant of the whole earth to the One that world rejected. So when does the Son claim it, and how?
Verse 6 has already set God's King on Zion. This verse tells how far His rule reaches.
This sets out two things. First, God anoints the Son as King upon Zion, His holy hill, and gives Him the nations for His inheritance: Zion is His throne; the nations, His inheritance. The decree of God is that His Son shall be anointed, that is, declared King over all the earth.
The grant runs past the borders of one nation. It reaches the ends of the earth. And His rejection has delayed the day He takes it:
When He asks, He will receive more than Judea. He will receive the nations for His inheritance and the ends of the earth for His possession. But judgment marks this, and He carries it out in public. He breaks them with a rod of iron and dashes them to pieces like a potter's vessel. Unbelieving Jews and lawless Gentiles rejected Him, and that has postponed it.
The word "ask" matters. Power and glory could have come to Him another way, without asking. He would not take them that way.
He could truly think of everything there — the beauty of nature, the power of rule — as one day subject to Himself. But even that drew Him for one reason only: to bring all things under His Father's authority. And He would remember — He never could forget for a moment — that it was to be the Father's gift to Him: "Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession." His Father would then put them in His hands, in His time and way. He will not seize them ahead of time, and He will not accept a lie, whatever show of power and glory it carries.
The gift waits on the asking. So the timing of that asking decides everything. Right now Christ asks for something else.
Christ does not as yet ask of God the world for His own; His requests now only apply to the church. When He claims the earth, it is for judgment; but there are warnings for the kings of the earth. The question there is not whether people recognise the Son as the Saviour, but as the King who has a right to own the earth. Christ has not only the right to gather souls for heaven, but also to receive the earth as His own.
When the believers in Acts 4 quoted it against the rulers who had crucified Jesus, they quoted only the opening lines.
Christ has not yet carried out the judgment of verse 9. That is no proof that He will not; it is the solemn assurance that He will. Those who apply this Psalm to the uprising against the Messiah stop short there. They say nothing of His asking Jehovah for the nations as His inheritance and the ends of the earth as His possession. Christ is busy now with His heavenly relations and offices. He will ask for the earth when He is about to come and execute judgment on the living and the dead.
How the nations come into His hand is not how souls come to Him now. Verse 9 gives the method, and it is nothing like the gospel.
To break the nations with a rod of iron is quite another thing from the gospel. He has the nations, not as His bride, but as His inheritance. Jesus has received power from His Father, not only to secure the church, but also to break the nations. And the church shall be with Jesus. Jesus has not yet asked for the inheritance. He is praying that His own may be kept. He is the sovereign High Priest, not of the world, but of the church.
What the Son receives, He passes on. He promises authority over the nations to the one who overcomes. That promise rests on this grant.
The Lord encourages the overcomer by announcing that He is coming again. Then He Himself shall reign over the nations in public, and He says, "As I also have received from My Father." The Crucified shall reign, and that by His Father's just decree. So He will give, along with Himself then, to the overcomer, "authority over the nations."
- Decree — God answers a rebelling world by decree. Zion is the Son's throne, and the nations are His inheritance.
- Gift — the kingdoms come to Christ as the Father's gift, in the Father's time. He will not take them early or by a lie.
- Delay — He has not yet asked. His requests now are for His own, and He claims the earth later.
- Reach — the grant covers not one land but the ends of the earth, and He takes it by judgment, not by the gospel.
- Sharing — He receives this authority from His Father, and He promises to share it with those who overcome.
Thou shalt break them with a sceptre of iron, as a potter's vessel thou shalt dash them in pieces.
God has just promised the Son the nations. This verse tells Him how He will take them — not by persuasion, but by force that shatters. Two questions follow. When does this happen? And how does an iron rod fit the same Christ the gospel presents today in grace?
Verse 8 names the inheritance. Verse 9 names the method. Commentators draw a sharp line between that method and the message going out now.
His way of dealing with the nations is completely opposed to the gospel: "You shall break them with a rod of iron." In the gospel, the rod of Christ is a rod of goodness and love. It is everything most sweet and most powerful in His love. It is not a rod of iron.
Grace comes first and the rod afterwards, because the Son has not yet asked.
"Ask of Me," Jehovah says, and He has not asked — He is still sitting in patience... His long-suffering is now salvation. When it is over, and delay would be, not blessing, not long-suffering, but weakness, it is with the rod of iron that He takes the ends of the earth for His possession — not, as people imagine, with the gospel. Isaiah 26 shows that grace has been tried and found ineffective. The gospel has gone out for centuries and has not converted the mass of mankind.
Some read the iron rod as a picture of Christ's influence spreading quietly through hearts today. One writer rejects that reading, because of who these nations are.
"You shall break them with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel," Psalm 2:9. We do not think that this is the gentle influence of His Spirit in the hearts of His people... These nations are not Zion at all, and this display of power is quite a different thing, still to come.
The verse holds two images. Iron speaks of a rule that will not bend.
The firm, unyielding rod of iron points to the stern and unbending rule He will exercise over the rebellious nations... Their determined will must be broken and their power shattered to pieces.
The clay supplies the other half. What the rod strikes is not strong; it is brittle.
This common pottery of the East is very fragile, and Scripture often refers to it for that reason. The Lord Jesus will subdue all His enemies: will dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel.
The rod and the love of Christ are not in conflict.
That ruling, though with a rod of iron, is really shepherding... Where He rules with a rod of iron, that is still a shepherd's care and love. Love, if need be, can strike. The rod of iron is for preservation no less than for destruction; in fact, preservation is the end in view. It is to destroy those who destroy the earth, and to make even the earth a place where peace will flourish as the result of righteousness.
Christ does not keep this authority to Himself.
It is striking that the psalm grants authority over the nations to Christ alone (Ps. 2), but the same unlimited authority and dominion awaits the conqueror who presses on to the end. The overcomers will share the public place and portion of the Son.
The verse is not a bare threat. The psalm follows it with an appeal.
He will rule them with a rod of iron and break them in pieces like a potter's vessel — breaking with power nothing can resist, ruling in judgment all who rise up against His throne without reverence and without strength. But this judgment has not been carried out yet. The psalm itself invites the kings and judges to submit and humbly own the Son.
That appeal is not vague. God states the terms Himself.
The decree of God is that His Son shall be anointed — that is, declared King over all the earth — and He invites the kings of the earth to submit to Him. He says to them: "I give the heritage of the nations to Christ. He will bruise you with a rod of iron; He will break you in pieces. Now then submit yourselves to Him, to My Son, King in Zion."
- Inheritance — verse 8 gives the Son the nations. Verse 9 tells how He takes them: by breaking, not by persuading.
- Delay — the rod waits because the Son has not yet asked. The present pause is deliberate patience, and that patience is salvation.
- Instrument — iron will not bend, and clay will not hold. One image shows a rule that never gives way. The other shows resistance that shatters at a blow.
- Shepherd — ruling with the iron rod is still shepherding. Love can strike, and preservation is the goal.
- Invitation — the psalm answers its own verse. It calls the kings to submit and own the Son before the rod falls.
And now, O kings, be ye wise, be admonished, ye judges of the earth.
This verse turns from judgment to advice: God tells the rulers who oppose Him to be wise while there is still time. Who is He speaking to, why does He say "be wise" rather than "repent," and does anyone listen?
Psalms 1 and 2 deal with God's rule over the earth. One writer points out what is missing from them.
God will finally make righteousness triumph and will put down all ungodliness for the earth. That is the theme of these two Psalms, and it declares the righteousness of God in government. So the grace preached in the gospel is not found here. There is no call to repentance (Ps. 2:10 is a warning instead). There is no promise of forgiveness to the guilty when he confesses, and none of restoration to a failing saint. Righteousness goes with reward, and ungodliness with judgment.
Another writer compares this call with the gospel preached today.
"Now therefore, O kings, be wise… Blessed are all who take refuge in Him" (Ps. 2:10-12). This is very different from the gospel now, but it is just as much of God in its own season, and it will surely go out when God begins to deal with man in judgment.
The verse speaks to men who hold power — kings and rulers, called "judges of the earth" in older translations. One writer contrasts that with the way the gospel reaches them today.
The teaching here applies, in principle, at all times, and so it applies today too. But the full meaning of this call will appear only when the King sits on His own throne… Now the gospel message does not address kings and judges as kings and judges, but as ruined sinners. God preaches the free gospel of His grace to them, as to everyone else… Then kings of nations will be called to hold their thrones as subjects of Jehovah's Christ.
"Be wise" has a deadline attached. One writer says what wisdom means for a ruler, and what waiting costs.
So the warning word still goes out to the kings of the earth. Wisdom for them will be to submit to Jehovah before the blow comes that will humble them for good — too late for blessing to them then! Even those who do submit may well "rejoice with trembling" at the great danger they have come so near to.
The verse opens with a word of timing. One writer says what that moment offers the great men of the world, and how fear and joy belong together.
Now, while there is still opportunity for repentance, let the great men of the world weigh God's declared testimony that the Lord Jesus will certainly reign over all. If only men would "serve the Lord with fear," then they would also "rejoice with trembling" — rejoice because it is the Lord they trust. They would tremble because they must give account to the God of heaven and earth.
Another writer names the person to whom that submission must be shown.
The hour of His public glory has not yet come — the hour when all human opposition and pretension will be overthrown. So God gives a word of warning to the kings and judges of the earth, and to all others too. There is still time to offer submission to the Lord and to serve Him… Anyone who wants to offer submission must do so by honouring the Son.
One writer points to God's settled way of dealing before judgment falls.
It is according to God's ways to give warning. Every lost soul, at least in the lands where the Christian message has gone, has heard at some time the warning voice of Him who must punish the wicked. So all are without excuse.
But the psalm does not end with rulers taking the advice. One writer traces the conflict back to where it began.
When did the conflict between the powers of earth and Jehovah begin? Acts 4:25-28 supplies the answer. It began at the Cross. It continues still, and will break out in even more determined opposition when Revelation 19:19 is fulfilled… Meanwhile God would plead with those who oppose Him to be wise and submit to the King, kissing the Son as a sign of submission (Ps. 2:10-12). But, as we shall see further on, the plea achieves little.
- Warning — This is a caution, not the gospel. The psalm holds out no call to repentance and no promise of pardon. It ties righteousness to reward, and ungodliness to judgment.
- Warned — God's settled way is to give notice before He strikes. Those who ignore that notice have no excuse.
- Wisdom — For a ruler, wisdom means submitting before the blow lands. Afterwards the blow forces submission, and no blessing comes with it.
- Window — The verse turns on "now." The King's public glory has not yet come, so there is still time to serve Him — by honouring the Son.
- Wilful — God pleads with kings and judges as rulers, and the psalm shows them refusing. Today the gospel meets them as sinners, and offers them the same free grace as everyone else.
Serve Jehovah with fear, and rejoice with trembling.
Psalm 2 has just announced God's decree, with its warnings to the nations. Verse 11 asks earth's rulers for their answer before Christ comes to reign: service marked by fear, and joy that trembles.
The call to serve follows a warning of judgment, and it comes while there is still time to bow.
The warnings of the decree are the ground of this appeal to the great ones of the earth. Before Christ comes out to reign in righteousness, the invitation goes out to the nations to submit to Christ and be reconciled to the Son. Otherwise they will perish when His anger is kindled even a little. Judgment is indeed coming for the nations. But some among them will put their trust in the Lord, and they will be blessed.
The verse joins two things we tend to keep apart. One writer ties both to the same Person: the Lord we trust is the Lord we must answer to.
There is still time to repent. So let the great men of the world weigh God's declared testimony: the Lord Jesus will certainly reign over all. If only men would "serve the LORD with fear," they would also "rejoice with trembling" — rejoice because it is the Lord they trust, and tremble because they must give account to the God of heaven and earth.
To "serve" here is to submit. One writer sets the trembling and the rejoicing on different objects — His might, and His coming vindication.
The hour of His public glory has not yet come, when He will overthrow all human opposition and pride. So a word of warning goes out to the kings and judges of the earth, and to everyone else. There is still time to offer submission to the Lord and to serve Him. Then, though trembling at the memory of His might, one may rejoice at the coming vindication and glory of the Son.
One writer presses a difference: these rulers are in open revolt, and the issue put to them is judgment, not the gospel of grace.
Psalm 2 is the time when judgment is ending, and the Son sets government right by the power of His wrath. "Now therefore, O kings, be wise," for if the Son's wrath is kindled, all will be over with you. This has nothing to do with the gospel of God's grace. The kings of the earth are not in relationship with the Father and the Son, but in rebellion against Jehovah and His Christ. It is a direct question of judgment — the closing scene.
Yet the delay carries a lesson for us now.
Here kings are called on to submit before the coming judgment of the earth. But this is not yet executed, and we have to learn our own lesson in patience. This the Psalms will teach us.
Fear can sound like the opposite of peace. But dread and reverence are not the same: one goes, the other grows.
But though dread is gone from the believing soul, reverence remains. It deepens as we come to know God and His Word better. So comes the call to "offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe" (Heb. 12:28). With it grows an inward horror of sin in every form, and a strong desire to walk in complete separation from it. "The fear of the LORD is hatred of evil" (Prov. 8:13). He who wallows in sin, whatever his religious profession, has never known our God.
A letter to a believer newly at peace turns this pairing into daily counsel. It names the danger the trembling guards against.
It is a serious thing, whatever the goodness of God may be, to find peace with a God of holiness. Christ has made peace; but He would have us feel what it is to need it, so that we may know it. Our hearts are so subtle and wicked that carelessness follows peace. We feared sin before, and now that we are freed from this heavy burden, we go forward not only more easily, but often, sadly, carelessly. Rejoice before God, and not without God, for the peace He has given you; rejoice in trembling. It is the means of preserving peace, by grace.
- Decree first. The command to serve rests on the warnings of God's decree, already announced.
- Fear next. Fear here is not dread, but the awe of those who must give account to the God of heaven and earth.
- Service means bowing. To serve is to offer submission now, before the hour of His public glory comes — the rebel lays down his claim before it is broken.
- Joy alongside. The rejoicing looks forward to the coming vindication and glory of the Son; the trembling looks up at His might. Both rest on the same Lord.
- Not today's gospel — yet not silent. Here the issue is judgment on rulers in revolt, not the gospel of grace. Yet "rejoice in trembling" still guards peace, by grace.
Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish in the way, though his anger burn but a little. Blessed are all who have their trust in him.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
(A Psalm of David, when he fled from Absalom his son.) Jehovah, how many are they that trouble me, many they that rise up against me!
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Many say of my soul, There is no salvation for him in God. Selah.
The words in this verse are not David's own. They are the verdict of a crowd watching him flee from his son Absalom — a verdict about his God. Does a man under God's own discipline still have any claim on God's help? And who has the right to answer that?
David's trouble was not one enemy but a movement. One writer counts the crowd behind Absalom, and sees in it a picture of a later betrayal:
David was not thinking only of Absalom, but of the great number whom Absalom had influenced to follow him. Absalom's uprising reminds us of the treachery of the coming Antichrist. He will first win the favour of the Jewish remnant, then turn against them, lifting himself up to claim to be God.
Another writer sees the same pattern in the future remnant of Israel. The mockery comes from their own people, not from foreigners:
The remnant is suffering persecution, and it comes from their own unbelieving brothers, who sneer at them and mock. "There is no salvation (deliverance) for him in God."
The mockers did not deny that God was at work. They saw His hand in David's collapse, and that is where their mistake began. Older translations word the taunt as "There is no help for him in God," which is how the writers below quote it:
All around him they murmur, "there is no help for him in God." Many are right to see God in the circumstances, but wrong to judge Him by the circumstances alone. There is an easy faith — the faith of Job's friends — that takes the clouds and darkness "all around Him" at face value, as if they revealed Him instead of hiding Him. It is a simple theology, and the sufferer himself is often tempted to adopt it: that God's love never wears a disguise. In fact it is His delight to find a soul close enough to Him to see through the disguise, and climb through the darkness to the perfect Light above.
The taunt was not just unkind. It was the truth turned inside out:
In this conclusion they were completely wrong. The exact opposite was true. There was no help for him anywhere but in God, as the next two verses show. Jehovah was a shield of protection to him. He was also the One in whom he could make his boast, the One who would lift up his head when men sought to cast him down.
The same writer traces the taunt back past the crowd to its real source. His warning is for any believer under God's discipline:
The devil's aim would be to keep us from turning to God. He will never lack many voices to speak his wishes and hint that God is no longer on our side: there is no hope or help for us in Him. Let us learn the lesson that this is a lie. David under discipline was not shut out from God, and neither are we.
David's calm rested on something settled long before Absalom marched. The prophet who exposed his sin had also announced that God had taken it away:
"The Lord also has put away your sin." That was the prophet's ready word of reassurance to the guilt-stricken king. So his soul had been fully restored to God. His conscience had been washed clean from the stain of his sin. Yet many quiet years had passed since then, and he had to keep in mind the discipline the Lord had announced. God would surely carry it out at the right time.
The same sentence came back centuries later, at the cross:
Many said of David, "There is no help for him in God." In the same way, the chief priests, scribes and elders of Israel mocked Christ as they watched Him on the cross: "He trusted in God; let Him deliver Him now if He will have Him." So men mistake God's patience for not caring, or for letting them off. But God's time is not man's. In His own time He will step in, just as He did after Christ was crucified and buried.
The verse ends with a word that is an instruction, not a comment:
The word Selah occurs 71 times in the Psalms. It means "to pause." A second meaning is to "lift up." We can take it as a sign that as we read we should pause, think, and then lift up our hearts in praise and prayer.
- Many say. The pressure here is a chorus, not a single enemy — and it came from David's own people, sneering while he fled.
- Many misread. They were right that God was in the disaster. They were wrong to judge Him by it — the easy faith of Job's friends.
- Many are wrong. Reverse their sentence and you have the fact: there was no help for David anywhere except in God.
- Many carry a lie. The whisper "God is finished with you" comes from the devil, and he never lacks mouths to carry it. David under discipline was not shut out from God, and neither are we.
- Many will hear it again. The same taunt met Christ on the cross, and God answered it in His own time. So the verse ends with Selah: pause, and lift up your heart.
But thou, Jehovah, art a shield about me; my glory, and the lifter up of my head.
David is running for his life from his own son Absalom, and the cruelest wound is the taunt that God has left him. Verse 3 turns from what men say to what God is.
The taunt in verse 2 looked true. Nothing visible argued that God was for David.
This taunt was the most bitter part of his bitter cup. All his life he had faced enemies, and men had hunted him like a partridge on the mountains. But if the wicked hint that God had now abandoned him were true, he had never been in so bad a state. To human eyes his enemies were right, for every sign of God's help and favour was missing. Yet faith won. Though David was in the deepest pit of trouble, he turned from men and appealed to God.
The same accusation is still thrown at believers today. One writer names its source:
The devil's aim would be to keep us from turning to God. He will never lack many people to voice his wishes and hint that God will no longer be on our side, and that there is no hope or help for us in Him. Let us learn the lesson that this is a lie. David under discipline was not shut out from God, and neither are we.
The first title is protection. One writer notes how complete it is.
With this shield of faith the psalmist fortifies himself. Better still, it is God who is his shield — so it is no partial defence, but a defence "round about" him. Perhaps he would not have realised He was so near, if the need had not been so great... So he can add, "the Uplifter of my head." What holds him up is not pride, and not stubbornness that refuses to give in, and not natural courage on its own. It is the sweet grasp of the "I AM" of God.
A man on the run has nothing left to boast about. David still had something, and his critics could not see it.
Verse 3 shows the simplicity of faith. Against the sneers of wicked men, David declares that the Lord was a shield for him, his protector even in the middle of his sufferings. But the Lord was also "my glory," the Object of David's pure delight. Others could not see what David did: that when he was persecuted, God was still his cause of rejoicing.
The third title looks ahead. God will lift the head, but David could not see it yet.
Despite outward appearances, faith sees that the Lord is a shield for the godly. He is his glory, the One in whom he boasts. And in due time He will lift up his head, though for the moment the enemy looks like the winner (Ps. 27:5-6; Ps. 110:7).
David's trouble was God's hand on him after his own sin. One writer links this psalm back to Psalm 51.
We venture to say that David would never have written like this in Psalm 3, when he fled from Absalom, if he had not first written Psalm 51. That psalm poured out his heart in confession of his great sin. But he had judged himself and acknowledged his sin. God restored him to communion with Himself, so he could face with confidence the trouble that came on him under God's governmental dealings.
Another writer looks at David's flight and sees the purpose of the sorrow:
How the discipline of that hour entered into his soul!... The true value of sorrow and trial is to lead the soul into simple and felt reliance on God.
The taunt did not stop with David. One writer hears the same sneer at the cross.
Many said of David, "There is no help for him in God." In the same way the chief priests, scribes and elders of Israel mocked Christ as they watched Him on the cross: "He trusted in God; let Him deliver Him now if He will have Him." So men mistake God's patience for indifference. But God's time is not man's. In His own time He will step in, as He did after men had crucified and buried Christ. What a deliverance that was, when God raised Christ from among the dead!
- The taunt. "No help for him in God" was the sharpest part of David's pain. The devil still whispers that lie to believers under God's discipline.
- The shield. Not a partial defence but God Himself all around him — and it may take great need before we realise He is that near.
- The glory. With everything else gone, David still boasted in the Lord. Others could not see why a hunted man was rejoicing.
- The lifted head. God lifts the head He promised to lift, in His own time — even while the enemy still looks like the winner.
- The reach. The same taunt reached Christ on the cross, and God answered it by raising Him from the dead.
With my voice will I call to Jehovah, and he will answer me from the hill of his holiness. Selah.
David wrote this psalm while running for his life from his own son Absalom. Here he cries out, and God hears him. Where the answer comes from matters as much as the answer itself.
This cry comes out of one particular kind of trouble. David had not earned it by innocence. He had earned it by his own sin.
Sometimes a child of God suffers trials and sorrows he has brought on himself. In His holy government God has placed His hand upon him, and he has to reap what he has sown. This is the hardest test of all. When David wrote Psalm 3 he was in this plight, for he was fleeing from Absalom his son. That was the darkest hour of his whole life, because every detail of it paid him back for what he had done.
A person under God's discipline can still pray with confidence. But something has to happen first. One writer traces David's freedom here back to an earlier psalm of confession.
We would say that David could never have written Psalm 3 as he did, while fleeing from Absalom, if he had not first written Psalm 51. That psalm poured out his heart in confession of his great sin. But he judged himself and admitted his sin. God then brought him back into communion. So he could face the trouble God's government brought on him, with confidence in Him.
Anyone in trouble can cry out. What matters is what came back.
In the third psalm we have the enemies, the surroundings; and the One who is here for God is the blessed Lord Himself. So it is written, "I cried, and He heard." That is the great point with us. It is not merely crying because of sorrows and difficulties here, but it is having the sense in our souls that He hears.
Being heard and being rescued are not the same thing. David's own story shows the gap between them.
Deliverance did not come at once. It did not, as we know. But David knew in his soul that the Lord had heard his cry. So he could wait calmly and expect His help in His own time and way… Whatever the outward circumstances, it is enough for the soul to be sure that God has bent down His ear and heard its cry.
David does not just say he got an answer. He names the place it came from. God's chosen King reigns on the holy hill of Zion, and that is where the answer comes from.
Where does He hear me from? "Out of His holy hill." He is there. We are here with all our small concerns, our disappointments, our stumbles, our failures. And we find that He is there, at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty on high, God's anointed King on His holy hill of Zion. In the psalm He says that is where He hears from — from His holy hill. Knowing that He hears us from His holy hill gives real rest. It is what makes us able to face ten thousand people drawn up against us without fear.
The word "holy" is not decoration. It describes the character of the One answering, and it explains the pause marked at the verse's end.
His prayer in verse 4 was the prayer of faith, with simple confidence that God would hear. And God did hear "from His holy hill" — that is, from the place of high exaltation, where holiness stays clean of the emptiness of human thought. Because God is holy, He loves what is good and hates evil… No wonder the word says "Selah" — pause and consider.
(Note: the older translation these writers use reads "he heard me"; the ESV renders it "he answered me.")
The answer did not move the threat. It moved the man.
Prayer does not always change our circumstances. It changes us. Instead of being distressed and distracted we are kept in peace and sustained in the trial (Phil. 4:6-7). We see this again and again in the psalmist's own experience. In the middle of his trials he cries to the Lord and knows he is heard. The trials go on as before, yet God keeps him in peace. He sleeps, and God sustains him. He wakes to the full weight of the trial, but can face it without fear.
Commentators also read this psalm beyond David's own crisis. One writer sees in it a prophetic picture of Christ:
Read this way, this Psalm is full of profit. Yet it carries a higher meaning still. It is a prophetic picture of what the Holy One of God went through. Enemies who wanted His life closed in around Him, and He trusted God as One near at hand both to justify and to deliver.
- Reaping. David's trouble was the harvest of his own sin — the hardest test of all, and still no barrier to prayer.
- Restored. Confession came first. A conscience already judged let him pray with confidence under discipline.
- Heard. The turning point is not the volume of the cry but the settled sense in the soul that God has heard it.
- From Zion. The answer comes from the holy hill, where God's anointed King reigns. Knowing where it comes from takes away the fear of ten thousand enemies.
- Rest. Prayer changes the person before it changes the circumstances. David sleeps, wakes, and faces the same threat unafraid. Selah — pause and consider.
I laid me down and slept; I awaked, for Jehovah sustaineth me.
David wrote this while running for his life from his own son Absalom, with no palace and no army — and yet he slept. The question every reader asks is how a hunted man sleeps at all, and whether that rest is available to anyone else.
One writer sets David's restless nights of comfort beside this night in the open:
Days of ease are not the best for us. Grasp that, and it will help us greatly. David's career gives striking proof of it. When his prosperity was at its high tide, he forgot the God whose goodness had followed him all his life. He could not rest, even though he lay on a curtained couch in a great palace. There his unsatisfied heart and restless eye led him into that foul sin that stained his name. But in the darkest hour of this strange history, his traitor son hunted him for his blood, and his only bed was the cold earth on the hillside. Still he could sing… Prosperity and the palace, with forgetfulness of God, gave birth to sin. Adversity, with the Lord at hand, produced the Psalm that still sings its music to our souls.
The calm of this verse is harder to explain than it looks. One writer traces it back to something David had already settled with God:
We venture to say this. David would never have written like this in Psalm 3, as he fled from Absalom, if he had not first written Psalm 51. That psalm was the outpouring of his heart in confession of his great sin. But he judged himself and acknowledged his sin. God restored him to communion with Himself, and so he could face the trouble that came on him under God's governing hand, with confidence in Him.
There is a sleep that only means a man is finished. This verse means something else:
"I lay down and slept," he says. This is plainly not the sleep of someone who is only worn out, for whom sleep has become a necessity. Men have slept on the deck of a ship in battle; but that is not the sleep spoken of here. It is the peace of a known wall of defence all around that makes such sleep possible. Night has its special dangers in the middle of warfare, and in the darkness the imagination pictures more than may be there. Yet faith can rest and be quiet under the watchful eye of God, and the morning proves the assurance right: "I woke again, for the LORD sustained me."
No enemy has withdrawn. No throne has come back. Only one thing has moved:
He was so calmed by the assurance that God had heard him that he lay down and slept. His circumstances had not changed at all. But now he had the Lord between him and his circumstances, and that changed everything. So peace reigned in his soul, and he could lie down and sleep, for in truth the everlasting arms were underneath him. So he adds, "I woke again, for the LORD sustained me." What a blessed rest, which the sense of the Lord's protection and favour brings! And no sleep refreshes like the sleep that ends with the assurance, on waking, that the Lord has sustained.
One writer finds a picture in the daily round of sleeping and waking:
Others have observed that our history every twenty-four hours (the period covered in these Psalms) is itself a kind of mystery. After spending the day, at night we lay aside our clothes and enter into sleep, the emblem of death. There we stay, with visions in the spirit, until the morning wakes us. Then we put on our clothes again, as we shall be clothed in the second morning — the morning of resurrection and glory.
The verse also tests where our own rest sits:
"I lay down and slept... for the LORD sustained me." How forceful and how simple! Is it so with you, reader? Does all trouble find your heart resting on God as your Father? When trouble multiplies, is your spirit still at rest, your sleep sweet? Do you lie down, sleep, and rise as if all were peace around you, because you know God is there and disposes of everything? Is He like this between you and your troubles and your troublers? And if He is, what can reach you? The thousands of enemies make no difference if God is there… We are foolish about difficulties and trials. We measure them by our strength instead of God's, who is for us if we are His.
- Heard. God heard David first, and the sleep followed. Rest is the result, not a technique.
- Cleared. Confession came before calm. A heart already judged before God can face the results of its own sin without panic.
- Kept. This is not collapse from exhaustion. It is rest inside a known defence — the everlasting arms under a man on bare ground.
- Unchanged. Not one circumstance improved. God stood between him and them, and that changed everything.
- Waking. Every night of trusting sleep points to a larger morning. Then sleep gives way to resurrection and glory.
I will not fear for myriads of the people that have set themselves against me round about.
David wrote this line while running for his life. His own son Absalom had turned the nation against him, and he had no army to count on. Nothing around him had changed when he said it. So what makes a surrounded man fearless?
David is not speaking from safety. He speaks from the lowest point of his life, out of trouble he brought on himself.
Sometimes a child of God is in a place where he is hurting under trials and sorrows that he has really brought on his own head. In His holy government God has laid His hand on him, and he has to reap what he has sown. This is perhaps the hardest test of all. David was in this plight when he wrote Psalm 3, for he was fleeing from his son Absalom. That was perhaps the darkest hour in his whole life, because every detail of it paid him back for what he had done.
That confidence had a history. David had already confessed his sin to God.
We dare to say that David would never have written like this in Psalm 3, when he fled from Absalom, if he had not first written Psalm 51. That psalm poured out his heart in confessing his great sin. But he had judged himself and owned his sin, so God restored him to communion with Himself. That is why he could face the trouble God's government brought on him, and face it with confidence in Him.
Read the verse carefully and you notice the crowd is still there. Something else went.
So had all the enemies been driven away? No — but his fears had... Inside he was safe, like a city with a garrison, even though on the outside he still looked exposed.
Fear drains away because of who stands between David and the crowd. Once God is in that place, counting the enemy is pointless. (Older translations read "ten thousands" where the ESV has "many thousands.")
When troubles come, whether one or many, the believer can find his "shield" in the Lord. A shield is the piece of armour a man holds between himself and his enemy. It is a blessed thing when faith sees that God is between us and all our troubles. Then it does not matter if the enemy grows to "ten thousands of people." If it is a question of us and the enemy, even one is too strong for us. If it is a question of God and the enemy, it makes no difference whether one or ten thousand stand against us.
Nothing in David's situation improved to justify this. His courage rested on something other than odds.
Courage, divine courage, now filled the king's heart. It was no longer a question of appearances or numbers. He had no more supporters than when he escaped from Jerusalem. Humanly speaking, he had no chance of beating the forces lined up against him. But the Lord had shown Himself to his soul in blessing, and now he could quietly hope and wait for His salvation.
Verse 6 does not stand alone. It draws its strength from the cry two verses earlier and from where the answer came.
He is there, at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty on high — God's anointed King on His holy hill of Zion. And in the psalm He says that this is where He hears from: from His holy hill. Knowing that He hears us out of His holy hill is what gives real rest. It is what makes a man able not to fear the ten thousands of people lined up around him, but to keep looking at Him.
The Hebrew behind "people" here is not a general word for crowds. It sharpens the pain of the scene: these are David's own nation.
The word used for "people" in the singular usually means Israel... In Psalm 3:6 the word is am, Israel.
One writer sees the psalm reaching past David's own crisis to a time still ahead.
Notice again that we are in the last days here. Though the godly man is surrounded by his enemies, he rests in peace. By prophecy he sees their destruction, and blessing on Israel. The psalm expresses confidence in God when hostile numbers press in and there is nothing else to fall back on. Christ has surely entered fully into this.
Another writer adds a caution. Faith like this is real, but it still has to grow.
This faith is beautiful. It is real, fully warranted, and certain to be proved right in the end. Yet as we follow these psalms to their close, we find how many painful experiences may come first. The childlike instinct has to grow into the settled knowledge of a grown man. Only then does "I will not be afraid" become something the soul holds onto for good.
- Confessed — David had judged his own sin, and God had restored him. That is why he could face discipline calmly.
- Heard — this fearlessness rests on verse 4. David knew God had answered his cry from His holy hill.
- Shielded — God stood between him and his troubles. Against God, one enemy or ten thousand is the same.
- Unchanged — the enemies never left; his fears did. He was safe inside while still exposed outside.
- Growing — these words are real faith. Even so, painful trials may come before "I will not be afraid" is settled in the soul.
Arise, Jehovah; save me, my God! For thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheekbone, thou hast broken the teeth of the wicked.
David prays this while running for his life from his own son Absalom. Yet the second half of the verse speaks of the enemy as already beaten. That mix of urgent plea and settled certainty is worth slowing down over. What does it mean to ask God to "arise" while saying He has already struck?
One writer draws out why this trouble cut so deep. The betrayal came from inside David's own circle.
No enemy is so trying as the traitor among God's people; and the nearer to the king, the more pain, sorrow, and shame there is. The king had known more than one deep humiliation, but never one so heartbreaking, and so public, as this. Yet David's sorrow was far from pure. In Christ the same sorrow was purer and deeper in every way.
The first half of the verse asks God to act. That prayer looks past the danger of the moment to a final outcome.
He looks to the Lord to arise and act for him. He is looking ahead to the time when God sets all his enemies aside in judgment. Then the Lord's people reach their final blessing.
The verse gives a reason for the plea. Older translations put that reason in the past tense — God has struck them — and the writers quoted below follow that older wording. Nothing had visibly changed in David's circumstances; his confidence rested elsewhere.
Faith makes the things hoped for sure and solid, and so David saw all his enemies struck down and defeated. He was already enjoying the victory, because he knew that God had taken up his cause. It is a great thing for the soul to lean on the Lord with unshaken trust at the worst moment. It leaves everything in His hands. We so easily think something depends on our own energy and activity, and in this way we shut the Lord out.
The second half of the verse turns to teeth. One writer traces that picture through two other Bible scenes.
"You have broken the teeth of the ungodly." This is a picture of breaking their power to devour those they counted as enemies. Psalm 22:13 says, "They open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion." Acts 7:54 shows the other side of it. The religious leaders of Israel had arrested Stephen. They hated being exposed as enemies of God, and they "ground their teeth at him." Break a man's teeth, and he can no longer grind them, however much he would like to.
David had already asked God to keep him safe. Here he turns to what should happen to his enemies.
In verse 4 he had cried to the Lord for his own protection. Now he is sure of it, so he asks for the defeat of his enemies (v. 7). He even grasps the answer in advance: "For You have struck all my enemies on the cheekbone." Such a blow leaves a man far less bold. God answered this prayer more fully than David wanted. David had asked for Absalom to be spared (2 Sam. 18:5), and he was not.
Commentators read the psalm as more than David's diary. One sees in this verse a single cause shared by the Messiah and the godly who suffer with Him.
In Psalm 3, verse 7, the Messiah and the godly share one common interest. The ungodly are active and in power. The right to rule belongs to the Messiah, but the ungodly still refuse it. Meanwhile the faithful few are oppressed and suffering.
That reading also sets a limit on how directly a Christian can borrow the words. Here, rescue comes when judgment falls on enemies. The Christian's hope has a different shape.
The soul's experiences here, and the desires it expresses, show that the psalm has in view a godly Jew. He is waiting for blessing on earth in the coming kingdom age. That blessing comes when God judges the nations living at that time. The Christian's blessings are heavenly. He does not reach his full and final blessing through the judgment of his enemies. He reaches it when the Lord comes to take him to heaven.
- Betrayal — the sharpest wound comes from inside: a traitor near the throne, and public shame. Christ entered that same sorrow more deeply and purely.
- Arise — the prayer asks God to act now. It also reaches to the day when God sets every enemy aside and His people come into their blessing.
- Already — faith turns the plea into the past tense. David enjoys the victory before he sees it, because the cause is God's now, not his own effort.
- Teeth — cheek and teeth picture the power to devour and the rage to grind. Broken, the enemy keeps his hatred but loses his bite.
- More than asked — God answered beyond David's own wish. David wanted Absalom spared, and he was not.
Salvation is of Jehovah; thy blessing is upon thy people. Selah.
The psalm closes with a fugitive king, hunted by his own son, saying the one thing his circumstances seemed to deny. Everything before it is pressure: growing enemies, mocking voices, a cry for help. Then the psalm ends with two short statements about God. Rescue is His to give. His people are the ones He blesses.
One writer gives a more exact rendering of the line: salvation is from the Lord. He hears the same lesson in Jonah, the man who prayed from inside the fish that swallowed him.
The end is now reached, and the lesson of the whole psalm is proclaimed. It falls into two parts: "Salvation belongs to the Lord: Your blessing is upon Your people." Notice first that a more accurate rendering is: "Salvation is from, or of, the Lord." This is the very lesson Jonah learned in the belly of the fish. Remember what happened: the moment the words passed from his lips, the Lord spoke to the fish, and it threw Jonah up onto the dry land. To teach them this precious truth is the object of all God's dealings with His people.
The same writer describes how the lesson is learned. For many of God's people, it comes through sorrow.
Through all their sin and failure, as with David, Jonah, and Peter, God always has this end in view. The lesson must be learned; but oh, what sorrowful experiences many of God's saints have to pass through in order to gain it. They have to be sifted, broken down, and disciplined, so that they may discover there is no help for them but in God... Do not rest, dear reader, until you have learned this blessed truth, for it is the secret of a calm, victorious, and holy life.
If rescue belongs to God, the one rescued adds nothing to it. One writer shows how far down it reaches, and who does each part of it.
"Salvation is of the Lord," from first to last. It is free, unconditional, everlasting salvation. It reaches down to where the sinner is in all his guilt, ruin, and degradation. It lifts him up to where God is, in all His holiness, truth, and righteousness. And it lasts for ever. God the Father is its source, God the Son is its channel, and God the Holy Spirit is the power of application and enjoyment. It is all of God, from beginning to end, from the foundation to the topmost stone, from everlasting to everlasting.
David is still on the run when he says this. He is not reporting a victory. He is announcing one. The older wording quoted below speaks of his enemies as already beaten, where the ESV puts those words in the present tense.
It is not doubt but faith that made him say, "Arise, O Lord, save me, O my God! For You have struck all my enemies on the cheek; You have broken the teeth of the wicked." His confidence runs ahead of the facts, and in the spirit of prophecy sees the end from the beginning. "To the Lord belongs salvation; Your blessing is upon Your people." The Christian can sing an even higher song. We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.
Up to here the psalm is personal: my enemies, my cry. The last line widens to "your people." Older translations read this half as a statement of fact; the ESV reads it as a prayer. One writer ties the safety of the many to the safety of the one.
The eventual triumph of the Lord is certain: "Salvation belongs to the Lord" (v. 8). That triumph also includes the blessing of all His people, for they are just as secure from defeat as their Lord is. Selah!
The verse does not say how large the blessing is. Another writer answers that by pairing it with what Christ received.
Do we really understand, deep in our souls, what God is doing? In everything He puts us through He has only one aim for us, and only one aim for Christ. As to us it is blessing; as to Christ it is glory... The blessed Lord glorified God in this world, and God has glorified Him in heavenly glory. So He has all the glory, and we have all the blessing. His glory is the measure of our blessing... The blessing we are set in here answers to the glory He is in at God's right hand.
- Emptied — God sifts and breaks His people down until they find there is no help anywhere but in Him.
- Owned — salvation is God's from first to last: Father the source, Son the channel, Spirit the power. We add nothing.
- Declared — faith says it while the enemies still stand. David announces the outcome while he is still running.
- Shared — what one hunted man received spills over to "Your people," who are as secure as the Lord they belong to.
- Measured — Christ's glory sets the size of their blessing. He has all the glory; they have all the blessing.
(To the chief Musician. On stringed instruments. A Psalm of David.) When I call, answer me, O God of my righteousness in pressure thou hast enlarged me; be gracious unto me, and hear my prayer.
Psalm 4 opens with a man under pressure who names his God before he names his trouble. Everything in the verse turns on that name and on one memory — that God has already made room for him once before.
One writer takes the dedication as pointing to a person, and links the psalm's first words to Him:
This psalm, like many others, goes on showing the kindness of God in the face of trial and persecution. It is addressed to the Chief Musician, who is certainly the Lord Jesus. Hebrews 2:12 shows this, where the Lord says, "in the midst of the congregation I will sing your praise." It is He who takes the lead in the musical offering of praise to God. The first verse is addressed to the Chief Musician. It is a prayer in which the psalmist knows he is speaking to the "God of my righteousness."
The title is unusual. It says righteousness is not something the psalmist owns apart from God:
The first part of the psalm declares that the righteous One is for the righteous. The key-note here is righteousness. The "God of my righteousness" is the God to whom all my righteousness looks — as it must, if it is to be righteousness. God, known by the soul, is the only basis of all that is right, and He makes it sure. Apart from that, all virtues are only zeros, which gain value only when a digit stands in front of them.
Notice what he asks for on that basis. He asks not for a verdict but for a hearing. (Older translations read "Hear me when I call.")
This psalm gives us another very important principle. It is the effect of a good conscience when we call on God in our distress. It is not a good conscience in the sense of being justified from sin. It is a conscience that is good in practice, and it gives confidence towards God. If our heart does not condemn us, says the apostle, we have confidence towards God. "Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness." He does not say, Justify me, O God of my righteousness, but, Hear me… It is not that God will not hear us out of deep sorrow for sin; this is another thing. Integrity of heart gives confidence in the day of trouble, because the spirit sees God.
The ESV says God gave him "relief." Older translations read "enlarged." The word behind "distress" carries a physical picture:
"You have enlarged me when I was in distress." The word for "distress" in the original is the same as the word for "trouble" in Psalm 3:1. It seems to carry the thought of tightness, narrowness, pressure.
That makes the verse a paradox. Pressure squeezes; it does not make room. The same writer shows where the enlarging comes from:
No "distress" can be anything but troublesome and painful. Yet if God takes it into His hands and uses it as a press, it greatly enlarges us. Trouble in itself does not enlarge; it is going through trouble with God that enlarges. It is when He takes up the trouble and skilfully uses it as a press that the blessing results.
The middle clause looks back. What God did before becomes the reason to ask again:
This prayer also relates to God's previous answer, when He had relieved the psalmist in his distress. For this reason he can count on the mercy of the Lord in hearing his prayer (v. 1). Do we not also find this? As God answers our prayers again and again, our confidence grows that He hears when our need drives us to pray.
If the pressure is God's press, it has an aim beyond the sufferer himself:
Distress is not sent from God for the sake of suffering but for the sake of enlargement. In times of distress, God sympathises with His own.
The enlarging runs in three directions:
Pressure crushes us down and narrows the way. Yet God's mercy makes up for it, where we own Him as the God of our circumstances and take those circumstances as His ordering. Then the pressure broadens our spiritual vision. It enlarges the heart toward others. It increases the knowledge of God.
- Name first. He calls God "the God of my righteousness." All his righteousness looks to God. Apart from Him, virtues are only zeros.
- Ask for a hearing. He does not say "Justify me" but "Hear me." A conscience that is good in practice gives confidence in the day of trouble.
- Room in the narrow place. The word behind "distress" means tightness and narrowness — and God's answer was to make room in it.
- The press, not the pain. Trouble alone does not enlarge; going through trouble with God does, because He uses it as a press.
- Enlargement spreads. Pressure widens vision, enlarges the heart toward others, and deepens knowledge of God. Past answers build confidence to call again.
Ye sons of men, till when is my glory [to be put] to shame? [How long] will ye love vanity, will ye seek after a lie? Selah.
David has been speaking to God. Now he turns to the men around him, and his question is not about hurt feelings — it is an appeal to people who are wasting themselves on what cannot last.
The phrase behind "O men" is not a general word for humanity. One writer reads it as an address to those with power and standing:
The expression "sons of men" means men of high rank. It refers to the great ones of the earth who have rejected God's Anointed. The King was Israel's distinctive glory. In rejecting the King, the sons of men had turned the glory of the godly remnant into shame. As a result the nation was given over to vanity and a lie. Their own counsels and ways would prove to be nothing but empty deceptions.
The insult, then, is not merely personal. It lands on the one God had appointed:
It was not merely evil done to a man, but to him whom God had set over His people to be His king. Yet their heart went out to a worthless thing, their zeal was spent on a false object.
So what was the "glory" they turned into shame? The answer puts the psalmist and his mockers worlds apart:
In Psalm 4, David, enlarged in soul, learned to tell the difference between the "godly" and the "sons of men." The sons of men turned his "glory" into shame. Jehovah was David's glory, as the third Psalm has told us. But Jehovah was nothing to them — indeed, worse than nothing in their eyes. Vanity was what appealed to their hearts, and the things they chased after were nothing but a lie. From all of that, those who feared God were separate.
Some older English Bibles end this verse with the word "leasing." It has nothing to do with renting:
The Hebrew word is commonly translated 'lies.' Psalm 4:2; Psalm 5:6. The word 'leasing' comes from the Anglo-Saxon leas, meaning 'false.'
The hearers already know, deep down, that the path they have chosen fails them:
Knowing this experience of God's favour, the psalmist turns to plead with the sons of men. They know nothing of that favour. But they do know the opposite experience in the paths they have chosen. He can appeal to them as consciously loving vanity, and seeking after a lie — after what never fulfils the promise it makes. Surely this is knowledge enough to stop men mocking and insulting the believer's glory, which rests on experiences they can know nothing about.
The same question fits people today:
"How long will you love vain words and seek after lies?" It is almost astounding how much time people give to what has no lasting value at all. They give it to what is simply false! Does experience with such things not teach them that there is no real satisfaction in them at all? How long indeed!
Set this verse beside the psalm that follows, and the difference stands out:
In Psalm 4:2-5 David had appealed to the ungodly to turn from evil and put their trust in the Lord. But in Psalm 5 there is a clear change. There he appeals to God against the ungodly. This surely shows that the ungodly have refused the appeal of the grace of God, and no hope is held out for them.
The confidence behind the question comes from a clear conscience before God, and from God's own claim on His people.
This psalm gives us another very important principle. It shows what a good conscience does when we call on God in our distress. This is not the good conscience of a person justified from sin. It is a conscience kept good in daily life, and it gives confidence towards God… His glory and honour came from God. How true this was of Christ! Man turned it into shame, and sought after vanity. Still, under the government of Him who cannot deny Himself, one thing remained forever true: He has set apart the godly for Himself.
The appeal does not rest on wounded royal dignity:
It is not the offended dignity of the king. The one who receives grace looks for grace, even if he is a king — and all the more, because Jehovah set him apart to Himself.
- Glory. The believer's glory is God Himself. So mockery of faith aims higher than the believer.
- Shame. The insult falls on the King God appointed. The offence is against God, not against hurt pride.
- Emptiness. "Vanity" and "lies" mean emptiness and falsehood — a chase that never keeps its promise.
- Appeal. "How long?" is grace speaking: a question put to men who already know their chosen path disappoints them.
- Refusal. When men refuse the appeal of Psalm 4, Psalm 5 stops pleading with men and appeals to God against them.
But know that Jehovah hath set apart the pious [man] for himself Jehovah will hear when I call unto him.
David is speaking to men who have turned his honour into shame. He answers them with a fact about God, not with an argument.
The phrase itself is simple.
The meaning of the word is to be separated or set apart for a purpose. There is a verse in Psalm 4 which conveys the thought: "The LORD has set apart the godly for Himself."
Notice whom God singles out. It is not a whole people by birth, but a character within it.
Psalm 4 is about depending on God by calling on Him. In verse 3, God marks out the godly, not the nation.
The verse turns outward. David wants his opponents to see what they are handling when they mock a believer.
Why is there such a difference between the godly and the ungodly? Because the Lord has set apart the godly as His own possession. If the ungodly would only weigh this serious fact, they might stop turning the believer's glory into shame. The psalmist is not ashamed to insist before unbelievers that the Lord will hear his prayers.
What gives David boldness is not a claim to be sinless. It is a heart that does not condemn him as he prays.
This psalm gives us another very important principle. It shows what a good conscience does when we call on God in our distress. This is not the good conscience of being justified from sin. It is a good conscience in practice, and it gives us confidence towards God… Yet one thing stayed true and unchanged: God rules, He cannot deny Himself, and He has set apart the godly for Himself… This is always true. But when we walk in godliness we have that confidence now. Our eye sees God clearly, and then we know He will hear us.
David was a king, yet he does not press his rank when he prays.
If he prayed, he counted on the answer. He does not plead the offended dignity of a king, nor the claims of a priest set apart to God. A man who has received grace looks for grace, even if he is a king — and all the more because the LORD set him apart for Himself. Who can tell how fully Christ entered into this?
The "godly one" points beyond David himself.
God has set apart the godly one for Himself, and first of all the gracious Lord Himself. Those who are renewed see it by spiritual understanding.
If God has sealed someone as His, that seal excludes every rival claim on the heart.
The bride's garden is closed to everyone else. The royal seal is on the King's fountain, and the living waters flow for Him alone. "Know that the LORD has set apart the godly for Himself." (Ps. 4:3) No stranger may tamper with what carries the King's seal… He cannot accept a divided heart.
It also settles how we treat other believers.
We cannot and dare not walk with the ungodly… But let us be careful not to separate from the godly. Psalm 4:3 tells me that "the LORD has set apart the godly for Himself." That is the comfort of the man of God in his distress. God cannot be against the godly… But if I reject the godly, I am at odds with the One who has set them "apart for Himself."
One writer raises an honest question about this ground of confidence.
"The LORD has set apart the godly for Himself." If that is the root of confidence, will you always hold it as certain that "the LORD hears when I call to Him"? Right now there may be no doubt, and there should be none. But will it be as clear on a dark and cloudy day as it is in today's sunshine?… When the storm stirs up the depths of the heart, will everything it brings up be "godliness"?
The psalm answers by turning the eye to God, not to the failure all around.
The psalm shows us beautifully how this confidence is kept. The soul learns that, while failure surrounds it on every side, God has set apart the godly for Himself. He hears their cry. He alone can sustain the soul.
- Set apart. The word means separated for a purpose. God marks out the godly one by one, not a nation by birth.
- Set apart by Him. The difference between the godly and the ungodly is not achievement. It is God's claim: He has taken them as His own possession.
- Set apart, so heard. Because God has claimed him, David counts on an answer. A good conscience in practice gives confidence in prayer now.
- Set apart, so sealed. What bears the King's seal is closed to every other claimant. He cannot accept a divided heart.
- Set apart, so honoured. Reject someone God has set apart, and you stand at odds with God. Mockers are handling what belongs to Him.
Be moved with anger, and sin not; meditate in your own hearts upon your bed, and be still. Selah.
Psalm 4 is a night psalm. In verse 4 the psalmist stops speaking to God and turns to the people against him, sending them to their own bed and to silence.
The words are not general advice. The psalmist has found his own rest in God. Now he warns the people opposing him.
Finally the psalmist warns them to "Tremble and sin not" (as one translation puts it). Let them tremble before a righteous God and give up their sins. Let the loneliness of the night hours be a time for self-judgment. Then, having repented of their evil, let them offer sacrifices of righteousness and put their trust in the Lord.
Commentators differ on the opening command. The Hebrew word behind it can be read more than one way.
The Hebrew word translated "stand in awe" means "to be moved," or "to be disturbed." So it sometimes means "to be moved with anger," or "to be angry" (see Proverbs 29:9; Isaiah 37:28). It also means "to be moved with grief" (2 Samuel 19:1), or "to be moved with fear," "to tremble," or "to quake." So the context must show which feeling is meant. We conclude that the English translation, rather than the old Greek version, expresses the sense of the Hebrew. Paul citing the Greek wording of Psalm 4:4 (if it is a quotation) does not endorse that translation of the psalm. The Spirit led him to use the words in Ephesians 4:26, and there they are inspired words, rightly given in English as, "Be angry and do not sin."
In Ephesians the words plainly mean anger. Anger has a right form and a wrong one, and the test is what it aims at.
There is such a thing as being rightly angry. But that anger is indignation against the evil, not against the person doing it. Behind it there is grief because of the evil. So we read of the Lord that He looked on the wicked leaders of the synagogue "with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart" (Mark 3:5). The anger of the flesh always has self in view. It is not grief because of evil, but resentment against someone who has been offensive. Anger against evil will lead to grief that finds its resource in turning to God, where the soul finds rest.
The verse sends people to bed, alone and quiet. Constant activity is how many people keep their conscience quiet.
In the dead of night let them meditate within their own hearts and be still. The constant whirl of activity in so many people is really an effort to silence the serious questions of conscience. They need some time of silence before God to search their own hearts. If they did this, it might lead them to judge their sinful ways and turn to the Lord.
An honest heart, questioned at night, will tell the truth. The emptiness people already feel is the evidence.
He tells them only to shut out the empty thoughts that pull at them, to withdraw into themselves, and to consult only their own hearts on their bed at night. The pursuit of pleasure only shows that there is no enjoyment of happiness. It may kill time and keep them from thinking. But if they did think, they would find that the weariness and emptiness they felt were the necessary fruit of departing from God, of sin which had ruined everything. Their own hearts held this secret, and would tell it, if they would only take them as their advisers.
The one who gives this command is not restless himself. He sends others to search where he has already found rest.
The godly man, as here, may go to bed and sleep (v. 8). But he warns others to go to bed, to talk there with their own hearts, and to search their spirits (v. 4). He knows his own full right to rest in God undisturbed, for "God gives to His beloved sleep." The Lord Jesus knew this in experience, even when winds and waves tossed the ship on the sea of Galilee. (See Mark 4)
- Moved — the Hebrew verb can mean disturbed, angry, grieved or trembling. The context decides which one.
- Angry — Paul uses the same words in Ephesians 4:26. Right anger targets the evil and carries grief. The anger of the flesh targets the person and carries self.
- Still — the command sends people to bed and to silence. Constant activity is often a way of drowning out conscience.
- Searched — ask your own heart, and it will name the weariness and emptiness for what they are: the fruit of leaving God.
- Rested — the psalmist calls others to that night-time self-judgment from a place he has already reached. He can lie down and sleep.
Offer sacrifices of righteousness, and confide in Jehovah.
Psalm 4 is the companion to Psalm 3. A godly man under pressure turns and speaks to the people who scorn what he values. Verse 5 gives them two commands, in order. Everything hangs on what "sacrifices of righteousness" means — the phrase the ESV renders "right sacrifices."
The call to offer comes last. A warning comes first, then a night of self-examination. (The warning below follows an older translation of Psalm 4:4, "Tremble, and sin not.")
Finally the warning comes: "Tremble and sin not." Let them tremble before a righteous God and give up their sins. Let the loneliness of the night hours be a time for self-judgment. And having repented of their evil, let them offer sacrifices of righteousness and put their trust in the Lord.
The phrase points to the God who is approached. It carries the same sense as the psalm's opening appeal.
We read, "Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness!" Here the godly man looks for relief out of distress, because God stays true to the way He has revealed Himself. That is what he treats as his title to be helped, while he walks in fear and faith. The sacrifices of righteousness carry the same force. They are sacrifices offered according to the true character in which God had revealed Himself — in Israel, of course, according to the law, but with the reverence, purpose, and honesty of heart that suited coming to God this way, and that suited knowing what He was.
Quiet thought in the night uncovers something no religious routine can settle.
Conscience would then convince them that sin is real, and that no form of ritual service could ever deal with it. They must offer the sacrifices of righteousness and put their trust in the Lord. These two things are very much the lesson of the first two psalms.
Another writer ties the phrase to Psalm 51:17, and to sorrow:
But the Scriptures speak of other sacrifices too — or perhaps of the same sacrifices described in another way. Psalm 4:5 and Deuteronomy 33:19 speak of "sacrifices of righteousness." Psalm 51:17 says, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise." It may be that the sweetest fragrance rises to God from a broken spirit. It may also be that some of the sorrows of God's people that puzzle us now have this fragrance in view.
The second half of the verse is not a one-off decision. It is a stance the person keeps.
Then they might indeed offer acceptable sacrifices to God — not the sacrifices of the wicked, but the sacrifices of righteousness (v. 5), which Psalm 51:17 explains. In keeping with this comes the call to "put your trust in the Lord." This is a decided action of faith. It is not just one act of faith, but an attitude taken up for good.
Verses 4 and 5 are God's own directions to the godly man. Three things grow out of them.
The Lord does not fail to direct the gracious godly man (verses 4, 5). So self-judgment, honest worship, and confidence are all nurtured.
The same phrase appears in Deuteronomy 33:19. There, people who have drawn on God's riches call others to come and offer.
There will be power to act on others also — calling the people to the mountain to offer the sacrifices of righteousness. All of this rests on the fact that they themselves will draw on the riches of the seas and on hidden treasures. The principle is always the same. It is our privilege to rejoice in the Lord, whatever comes, and to draw from those eternal springs and hidden treasures that are found in Himself. Then our souls will be ready to call others to taste and see that the Lord is good.
- Tremble — the verse begins where verse 4 left off: fear God, drop the sin, and let a quiet night do its work on the conscience.
- Search — self-examination turns up a sin problem that no religious form can settle. What God asks for is a broken and contrite heart.
- Sacrifice — a sacrifice is "of righteousness" when it fits the true character God has revealed, and comes from an honest heart.
- Trust — the second command turns a single act of faith into a permanent posture toward the Lord.
- Overflow — in Deuteronomy the same phrase returns. Those who draw on God's riches gain power to call others to offer too.
Many say, Who shall cause us to see good? Lift up upon us the light of thy countenance, O Jehovah.
The verse sets two voices side by side. A crowd asks whether any real good is left, and one man turns that same restlessness into prayer. His prayer for the light of God's face answers a search the world has already given up on.
The crowd is not asking in hope. Commentators trace their words back to a search that has already failed:
The pursuit of vanity does not bring any satisfaction to the sons of men. The very reverse. It leaves them sadly discontented. They end up in just the same frame of mind as Solomon, who came to the conclusion that everything was empty and left the spirit frustrated. So their cry is, "Who will show us any good?" They ask it with the air of people who believe there is no real answer, because there is no real good to find. Many asked that question, just as many said of David that there was no hope for him in God. Both the claim and the question clearly sprang from the same root of complete unbelief. Yet there was help for David in God, and only there. Absolute and eternal good exists, and some can show it when challenged. David accepted the challenge and went on to show the good. He knew it not only in theory, but by experience.
The same cry can rise from a soul that is being driven to see where it stands:
The soul is always pushed to the point of saying, "Who will show us any good?" There is nothing that stays as the support of the soul. You find yourself outside Eden; God seems not to be for us; Satan is against us. You have to be driven there to understand that everything around is far from God, with no good to be seen in yourself and no resource outside yourself.
The phrase comes from a Hebrew word with two senses:
We have nasa, "to lift up." It can mean to forgive — to lift the sins away in the mind of the person offended. It can also mean to show favour by lifting up the face of the person being favoured. Ps. 4:6.
That favour works like daylight. Natural light brings strength and health to the body, and God's light gives the soul cheerfulness and strength (Morrish Bible Dictionary).
The verse's second half answers its first. One writer describes what happens when the soul has nothing left but God:
When the soul rests entirely on the Eternal and has nothing but God, it enters into peace and joy. It is easy to bless God when the circumstances are as we wish. But if God leaves us there, He leaves us far from Him, taken up with the things that perish. If man is content with what he finds here below, he is content with death, with what passes away.
For those who read the psalm in the light of the New Testament, the answer has a name:
The Son of God, of whom Solomon was a picture, alone can answer this hard question. Listen to His apostle in Phil. 3:8: "Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." The heart of such a man was clearly at rest. In the knowledge of Christ he had found eternal good. Apart from Him the search for satisfaction is only chasing the wind. The WORK of Christ is God's answer to the guilty man, and the PERSON of Christ to the disappointed man.
David prayed for a light that believers now stand in:
No "good" is to be found in the darkness of this world: to get it we must stand in the light of God. David knew this, but how much more should we know it, since we are in the light of His face, fully shining in Christ. In the coming of our Lord Jesus the very face of God has indeed been lifted upon us, and not merely His "back parts" as in the case of Moses.
One writer hears in this prayer words that will rise again in a coming time of trouble:
The mocking words "who will show us any good?" — the challenge of unbelief — are met by prayer and the assurance of faith. "Lift up the light of Your face upon us, O LORD!" We shall find later that this is a favourite prayer of the Jewish saints in the tribulation. (See Psalm 80.)
The verse also becomes a personal measure. One writer asks the reader: am I content in any circumstances, as long as God lifts the light of His face upon me? If not, something still needs correcting. A heart moved by circumstances loses its happiness when they change (J. N. Darby).
- The question — "Who will show us any good?" is the voice of people who searched, found nothing, and now ask without expecting an answer.
- The turn — the psalmist takes that same cry and lifts it upward instead of outward; the appeal to men becomes a prayer to God.
- The words — to lift up someone's face is to show favour. God's light does for the soul what daylight does for the body.
- The answer — the good is not a thing but a Person. Christ's work meets the guilty man; Christ Himself meets the disappointed man.
- The reach — David asked for the light. Believers now stand in it, shining in Christ. The same prayer will rise again in a coming time of trouble.
Thou hast put joy in my heart, more than in the time that their corn and their new wine was in abundance.
David wrote this psalm at a time when evil was strong and the wicked seemed to prosper. His answer is not better circumstances, but a gladness God had already put inside him — a joy he measures against the world's happiest moment.
The verse is a reply. One commentator sets the scene: a suffering few, surrounded by wicked people who appear to prosper:
Evil is everywhere and the wicked appear to prosper, so many are tempted to say, "Who will show us some good?" Faith sees differently. The favour of God — the light of His face — belongs to a suffering few, and it is far better than the outward prosperity of the wicked.
Another writer goes further. The soul finds this joy when it has nothing left but God:
When the soul rests entirely on the Eternal and has nothing but God, it enters into peace and joy. It is easy to bless God when the circumstances are as we wish. But if God leaves us there, He leaves us far from Him, preoccupied with the things that perish.
The verse opens with what God has done. This joy was a gift, not an achievement:
First, there is gladness. But note carefully where that gladness comes from. Its source is God, so it does not depend on the things of earth. It is gladness in the heart, not the shallow, frothy kind the world deals in. It was God who put it into the heart of David.
God does more than shield His people from the outside:
God is the satisfying portion of His people. He is not only a "shield about" them, but a "light" — a glory within the soul, true gladness. The soul does not produce it, and neither does man's work.
David names the exact place where the gladness lands:
"You have put more joy in my heart" (Ps. 4:7). Worldly joys put gladness on the face. The rich Corinthians "boast about outward appearance and not about what is in the heart" (2 Cor. 5:12). But the Spirit of God puts gladness into the heart. Divine joys are heart joys.
David does not compare his joy with misery. He compares it with the best hour of the farming year, when the grapes came in:
Wine, the grape, is a picture of human joy and human strength. Harvest time always meant celebration, songs and gladness. Workers gathered the grapes, and the juice burst from the vats. It was the time of joy… it was only reminding them of the happiest times in nature, the fullest natural joy, and comparing that with a fuller, deeper joy.
Note the word "their." The harvest belongs to other people; the gladness belongs to David.
If the joy does not depend on the crop, it survives a bad year:
When earthly blessings increase, people are usually very happy. But a sense of the nearness of the Lord gives a far deeper gladness than any increase of material riches can give. This stays true even when someone lacks material things badly. The prophet Habakkuk says so plainly: "Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines… yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation."
People with nothing have proved these words true. One writer applies them to Christ, and then to two men in a prison cell:
Grain and wine make the hearts of men glad. But He could say, "You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound." … No men in Philippi were happier than Paul and Silas, though men had beaten them cruelly and locked them in a dungeon. They had nothing to comfort them but the love of God. That was more than all the rest of the city had, and it filled their lips with praise.
- Question: People cry, "Who will show us some good?" The answer is God's favour, not better circumstances.
- Gift: God put the gladness there. Our soul did not make it and our work did not earn it, so earthly loss cannot end it.
- Place: The world's joy shows on the face. God's Spirit puts this joy in the heart.
- Measure: David weighs it against harvest time, the world at its best. His portion is greater.
- Proof: It holds when the fig tree fails and when the prison door shuts. Paul and Silas had less than anyone in Philippi, and more.
In peace will I both lay me down and sleep; for thou, Jehovah, alone makest me to dwell in safety.
The psalm ends at nightfall, with the enemies of the earlier verses still there and nothing changed. What is left is a man lying down to sleep — and his reason is not that the danger has passed, but that God alone keeps him.
The last line belongs to the end of a day. Commentators note that this psalm is paired with the one before it, and that the two mark different hours.
The fourth Psalm is linked to the third. The third is "a Morning Psalm" and the fourth "an Evening Hymn."
There is a kind of sleep that comes from being worn out. This sleep is different. One writer contrasts it with the restlessness of people who have plenty.
For this reason the psalmist can say, "In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety" (v.8). This is not the sleep of exhaustion, but that of confiding faith. Those whose riches grow are more likely to lie awake at night. They worry about how to keep their wealth, or how to spend it.
The rest spoken of in verse 8 does not come from nowhere. It follows the gladness of verse 7, where the psalmist weighs God's favour against the wicked's rich harvest and finds it better.
Faith sees that God shines His face on a small group of suffering people who stay true to Him. That favour is far better than the outward success of the wicked. God's favour brings a gladness into the heart that is far greater than the enjoyment of things we own here and now. Enjoying this favour, the soul can lie down in peace and safety. The evil of the world no longer keeps it anxious.
Another writer names the same three gifts, and notes that when we tell others about them, the order runs backwards.
And then we can tell of the gladness and peace and safety, which have been brought to us by the gospel. Only perhaps we should reverse their order, and speak of safety, peace and gladness.
The little word "alone" carries the verse. It shuts out every other guarantee.
Third, the presence of the Lord kept him safe. Others might threaten him and put him in danger, but the Lord, and the Lord alone, made him dwell in safety.
Commentators differ on what the word "alone" goes with. One writer reads it as describing the man, not God: he is kept safe even when nobody else is around. That writer sees a picture of it in the prophet Elijah, whom God sent to hide by a stream, where birds brought him food.
David wrote in Ps. 4:8: "In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." One older translation puts a different sense in its margin: "You, Lord, though I am alone, make me dwell in safety." Elijah at the brook Cherith could have said the same. No wild animal or enemy could harm him. He was alone, but he was there because the Lord had told him to be, and he stayed under the Lord's watchful eye.
Earlier in the psalm, the psalmist tells others to lie on their beds and search themselves. He himself lies down and sleeps. One writer points to the clearest example of that rest.
The godly man, as here, can go to bed and sleep (v. 8). But he tells others to go to bed and there talk with their own hearts and search themselves (v. 4). He knows he has every right to rest in God, undisturbed, for "He gives to His beloved sleep." The Lord Jesus lived this out. He slept while wind and waves tossed the boat on the Sea of Galilee. (See Mark 4)
The same rest is open to believers today. And we know something more: who God is to us.
Christian, He gives that pillow to us, and we may find sweet rest in the middle of trouble. He says, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid" (John 14:27), and He also said "My Father and your Father, my God and your God" (John 20:17). And if fear rises in the heart, and the cry breaks out, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?", the answer is this: "casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you" (1 Peter 5:7).
- Evening. This is the closing hour of a hard day. The psalm before it is a morning psalm, this one an evening hymn — and the enemies have not gone anywhere.
- Gladness. The rest in verse 8 grows out of verse 7. God's favour brings a joy that outweighs the wicked's full harvest. Only then can the soul lie down untroubled.
- Faith. The sleep is of "confiding faith," not exhaustion — the opposite of the rich man lying awake over how to guard what he owns.
- Alone. Others could threaten, but the Lord alone made him safe. One reading even puts the safety in being alone, as Elijah was at the brook.
- Christ. Jesus asleep in the tossing boat is the perfect example. He offers us the same pillow: His own peace, and His word to cast all our anxiety on Him.
(To the chief Musician. Upon Nehiloth. A Psalm of David.) Give ear to my words, O Jehovah; consider my meditation.
Psalm 5 opens with a man asking God to listen twice over: to his spoken words, and to the thoughts underneath them. Behind that opening lies the question the whole psalm answers — what makes anyone sure God will hear? (The ESV reads "consider my groaning"; the writers below use the older wording, "consider my meditation.")
The verse asks God to attend to two things: the words a man speaks, and the thoughts beneath them. One writer draws out what that does to prayer.
Psalm 5 brings this before us: "Give ear to my words, O Lord." This is not a general request. The words are weighed before Him, and the thoughts too. The soul's thinking goes on in His presence — "Consider my meditation." Self-will has no room to press its own aim on the Lord when the prayer is, as in Psalm 19:14, "Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight."
The same writer goes on to the state of heart behind such praying.
The point here is not so much the act of directing prayer to the Lord. It is the ordered, watchful state of soul that claims His ear and attention. Evil may be all around, and the soul knows that "He has no pleasure in wickedness." But the soul is not taken up with the evil. It is taken up with the Lord, and this produces holy fear.
The psalm addresses God twice over in the next breath, and each title carries its own weight.
The psalm opens by expressing the soul's daily dependence on God. The appeal to God as "my King" involves the government of God, just as "my God" suggests the character of God.
Another writer sets that title beside the psalms just before it, and beside Christians today.
The third Psalm expresses trust in God as a shield; the fourth prays to the God of righteousness. "Give attention to the sound of my cry, my King and my God." This is a fresh and more intense prayer, because evil increases and abounds. The cry is to God as King. David calls Him King, as the Jewish remnant will pray to the King and look for the coming of the King. The Church looks for the Lord, for the Bridegroom.
His confidence of being heard rests on something outside himself.
Psalm 5 presents the cry of the godly. It appeals to the character of God, which must answer to the character of the godly, as the very reason He must hear him and judge the wicked. If the godly love godliness, surely the Lord does; if the godly hate wickedness, surely He does.
Another writer asks the plain question and answers it from the same ground.
Can David have confidence that God hears him? Yes indeed, for he bases his confidence on the very character of God, who takes no pleasure in wickedness, and cannot allow evil any place in His presence (v. 4). His patience with evil is not by any means indulgence, nor indifference.
What this psalm goes on to ask for is not what a Christian prays today.
It expresses the cry of the godly to God for judgment — a feeling that belongs to the Jewish position, and wholly right when the day draws near for God to vindicate His people... In due time He will hear, and He will judge the wicked on the earth when His kingdom comes in open power. We who are one with Christ in heaven look for Him to take us to be where He is, and we pray for grace as He did, even for His blinded murderers.
But is it ever right to ask God to destroy anyone?
If it is right for God to destroy, as it surely is, it is not wrong in itself to ask Him to do so. More than that: here it is a Spirit-taught prayer, and God answers it. As the Lord says, "And will not God give justice to His elect, who cry to Him day and night? Will He delay long over them? I tell you, He will give justice to them speedily."
- Weighed — the psalm hands God both the words and the thoughts behind them. Prayer here is measured, not casual.
- Watchful — what claims His ear is not the act of praying alone. It is a soul taken up with the Lord, not with the evil around it.
- King — "my King" appeals to God's rule, "my God" to His character. This is the cry of one who waits for a King to come and reign.
- Character — confidence rests on what God is. He takes no pleasure in wickedness, and His long patience with evil is not indulgence.
- Timing — the call for judgment is a Spirit-taught prayer, and God answers it. Its hour is the coming kingdom. Until then the Christian prays for grace, as Christ did for His murderers.
Hearken unto the voice of my crying, my king and my God; for to thee will I pray.
After asking God to hear his words, the psalmist now asks Him to hear the sound of his cry, naming Him twice — as King and as God. Why does prayer under pressure reach for those two titles, and who is David really speaking to?
The two titles pull in two directions: one toward how God rules, the other toward what God is like.
The psalm opens by expressing the soul's daily dependence on God... Calling God "my King" brings in the government of God, just as "my God" points to the character of God.
God uses that title of Himself often, and one writer draws the obvious conclusion:
God has spoken of Himself as King so often. We cannot think He would have done that unless it mattered for us to know Him in this character.
Set beside the psalms just before it, this prayer is more urgent. The title David chooses also separates Israel's hope from the Church's.
It is a fresh and more intense prayer, because evil increases and abounds. The cry is to God as King. David calls Him King, as the Jewish remnant will pray to the King and look for the coming of the King. The Church looks for the Lord, for the Bridegroom. Scripture never calls the Lord Jesus Christ the King of the Church.
Read on in the psalm and you find what this cry asks for — and why Christians find its later words hard to pray as their own.
It voices the cry of the godly to God for judgment. That was a typically Jewish feeling, and it is wholly right when the day draws near for God to vindicate His people... In its due time He will surely hear and judge the wicked on the earth when His public kingdom comes... We, who are one with Christ in heaven, look for Him to come and take us to be where He is, and we pray for grace as He did, even for those who blindly murdered Him.
So is such a prayer wrong? One writer answers with two fires from heaven — one granted, one refused:
If it is right for God to destroy, and it surely is, then asking Him to do so is not wrong in itself... So, when Elijah asked for fire from heaven to consume those that were sent to take him, the fire came. God put His seal upon that prayer, terrible as it was. Yet the disciples asked the same thing about the Samaritans: "Lord, shall we call down fire from heaven to consume them, as Elijah did?" The Lord rebuked them instead of backing them: "You do not know what kind of spirit you are of."
Notice the timing. The psalmist does not fight the evil off, argue it away, or endure it alone. He turns to God at the start of the trouble.
Notice that these early psalms, like others, picture the godly under the pressure of evil all around them. They turn to the Lord because of it — not as a last resort, but as their first thought... Evil may be everywhere, and they know that "He has no pleasure in wickedness." Yet the soul is taken up not with the evil but with the Lord, and this produces holy fear.
Commentators read the "King" of this verse in more than one way. One writer goes further and names the One David speaks to:
David may not have grasped the full meaning of all he wrote. Yet verse 2 shows that he is really speaking to the Lord Jesus, who is both his King and his God. The same truth is often clear in the Psalms.
The closing clause — "for to you do I pray" — is the simplest part of the verse and the easiest to forget in practice.
You need to remember that in prayer you are speaking to God... Prayer is the heart turned toward God in earnest requests for the blessing we need... He is God as well as Father. So a spirit of reverence fits us, and no true prayer is without it. We should not forget that the privileges of grace never remove or wipe out our responsibilities as creatures.
- Two names. "My King" brings in God's government; "my God" brings in His character. The one praying leans on both at once.
- One cry. Evil is increasing, so the prayer grows more urgent — and David reaches for the title of King.
- First thought. The godly turn to the Lord at the start of trouble, not as a last resort. The soul then stays taken up with Him, not with the evil.
- One Person. One writer holds that David is really speaking to the Lord Jesus, his King and his God — a truth often clear in the Psalms.
- Two hopes. Israel's remnant cries to the King for judgment. Those one with Christ in heaven wait for Him to take them home, and pray for grace as He did.
Jehovah, in the morning shalt thou hear my voice; in the morning will I address myself to thee, and will look up.
In Psalm 5 a godly man prays while evil people press in around him. Verse 3 gives that prayer a time, a shape and a direction: morning, ordered words, and eyes that keep watching.
Evil presses in around the psalmist. What stands out is not that he turned to God, but when.
Notice that these early psalms, like others, picture the godly under the pressure of evil all around them. They turn to the Lord because of it. This is not a last resort but their first thought: "In the morning You will hear my voice, O Lord; in the morning I will order my prayer to You, and will watch." (See the Revised Version.) The thought here is not so much the fact of directing the prayer to the Lord. It is the ordered, watchful state of soul that claims His ear and attention. Evil may be all around, but the soul is not occupied with evil. It is occupied with the Lord, and that produces holy fear.
The psalmist does not just pray; he arranges his words. One writer ties that ordering to the God who hears them.
God is who He is, so the prayer of the one who asks must take account of His character. The words become "ordered" words, spoken as in His presence. There is earnestness, and expectancy of the mercy he asks for.
Translations differ over the second half. Some read "look up," others "watch." One writer takes it as watching, and sets it beside a prophet waiting on his tower for God's answer:
The Psalmist's words give the meaning, "In the morning I will direct my prayer to You, and will watch" (Ps. 5:3). So do the prophet's words: "I will take my stand at my watchpost and station myself on the tower, and look out to see what He will say to me, and what I will answer concerning my complaint." (Hab. 2:1.) This watching comes from two things together: a sense of our own weakness, and a sense of His wise and holy guardianship and guidance.
Prayer here ends with eyes lifted up. A troubled person could look two other ways, and the order matters: he looks up only after he has prayed.
Someone has written somewhere, 'Look in — distress; look out — distraction; look up — delight'. The psalmist knew where to look. He did not look up until he had first looked to the One his heart desired, in absolute confident prayer. That prayer was the expression of complete, utter dependence on Him.
The psalmist calls God "my King and my God" as he prays. Each title says something different.
The psalm opens with an expression of the soul's daily dependence on God. The appeal to God as "my King" involves the government of God, just as "my God" suggests the character of God.
Another writer says who those titles point to:
David may not have understood the significance of all he wrote. Yet verse 2 shows that he is really addressing the Lord Jesus, who is both his King and his God. This same truth is often evident in the Psalms.
The same writer links this morning prayer to the night that came before it.
Verse 8 of the previous psalm spoke of David lying down to sleep in peace, confident of the Lord's safekeeping. Now in the morning (v. 3) he commits himself again to the Lord's preserving mercy. He looks up, above the level of the circumstances that surrounded him.
One writer turns the verse into a daily habit, and points to the example of Jesus.
It is a very good habit to have our hearts and thoughts occupied with the Lord and His Word from the moment we wake in the morning… You will always recognise a spiritual and fruitful believer. His lifestyle is an organised lifestyle. Many men of God in the Bible got up early in the morning to do what the Lord required of them. Of the Lord Jesus we read that He rose "very early in the morning, while it was still dark," to pray. This is indeed the secret of the victorious life — a life of prayer and study of the Word of God.
- Morning — prayer is the first thought under pressure, not the last resort.
- Ordered — he arranges his words as in God's presence, shaped by who God is, and expects the mercy he asks for.
- Watch — some read the second half "look up," some "watch." He stays at his post for the answer, like a prophet on his tower.
- Upward — looking in brings distress, looking out brings distraction. He looks up, and rises above his circumstances.
- Addressed — he prays to "my King and my God". His government and His character are both the ground of what he asks.
For thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness; evil shall not sojourn with thee.
Surrounded by enemies, the psalmist prays in the morning. In verse 4 he turns from his trouble to God's nature — and that raises a hard question: how can anyone come near such a God?
The verse begins with "for" — it gives the reason the psalmist expects God to hear him. His argument is that God must share the loyalties of the person praying.
Psalm 5 sets out the cry of the godly. God's character must answer to the character of the godly. So the psalm appeals to that character: it requires Him to hear the godly man and judge the wicked. If the godly love godliness, surely the Lord does; if the godly hate wickedness, surely He does.
The nations around Israel had their own mighty ones. God differs from them in what He takes pleasure in.
The second part dwells on His nature as set against evil. He is not like one of the mighty ones of the nations, who combine power with pleasure in wickedness. Evil cannot dwell with Him for even the briefest moment.
Evil goes on unpunished around the psalmist, and that could look like God does not mind.
Can David have confidence that God hears him? Yes indeed. He bases his confidence on the very character of God, who takes no pleasure in wickedness and cannot allow evil any place in His presence. His patience with evil is not by any means indulgence, nor indifference.
This is not a policy God has adopted and could change. It belongs to what He is, and it sits alongside other things Scripture says God is unable to do.
His power clearly has no limit. Yet His love governs Him, and in matters of morality there are certain things He cannot do. "He cannot deny Himself" (2 Timothy 2:13). "God cannot be tempted with evil" (James 1:13)… His own nature governs Him so completely that He can do nothing opposed to justice. He has not merely bound Himself to use His almighty power in line with justice. Justice is part of His moral nature, so He cannot act otherwise.
If evil cannot stay with God, where does that leave us? Until a person feels the answer, sin is not truly known.
Look at God as righteousness, as having "purer eyes than to see evil". A true sense of sin would make us feel that we could not come into His presence. Defiled as we are, we could not appear before His holy majesty. There is no true sense of sin, no real effect of His presence on the conscience, until we feel this… In justice, He ought not to allow such people in His presence. But Christ gives Himself for these sins. Having put them away, He appears in the presence of God in the power and worth of that work.
Three verses later the psalmist says he will come into God's house. Mercy is what gets him there.
The sense of God's holiness produces fear of the Holy One. Only abundant mercy allows anyone to come to God's house… And how shall we have "confidence to enter the holy places," or draw near to God at all, except "by the blood of Jesus"?
The same principle shapes life among God's people. It draws a line between failure and tolerated wrong.
He could not dwell where evil was deliberately and openly approved. Blessed be His name, He can and does bear with weakness. But His eyes are too pure to look at evil, and He cannot look on wrongdoing. Evil cannot dwell with Him, nor can He have fellowship with it. It would mean denying His very nature; and He cannot deny Himself.
- Character — The prayer rests on what God is, not on what the psalmist deserves. If the godly hate evil, so does God.
- Cannot — This is not a rule God keeps. It is what He is. Justice is so much part of Him that He cannot act otherwise.
- Patience — God is slow to judge, but that is not indulgence or indifference. In Him, power and pleasure in wickedness never meet.
- Conscience — Take the verse honestly and you have no right to stand in His presence. Feeling that is where a real sense of sin begins.
- Mercy — The same psalm still enters God's house, through abundant mercy. The confidence to draw near comes by the blood of Jesus.
Insolent fools shall not stand before thine eyes; thou hatest all workers of iniquity.
Psalm 5 is a morning prayer, and its plea rests on what God is like rather than on the psalmist's worthiness. Verse 5 draws the consequence: God's hatred of every evildoer is settled, which raises the question of whether anyone can stand before Him at all.
The psalmist argues from God's character to what God must do.
Psalm 5 presents the cry of the godly. God's character must answer to the character of the godly, and the psalmist appeals to it as requiring God to hear him and judge the wicked. If the godly love godliness, surely Jehovah does; if the godly hate wickedness, surely He does.
One writer quotes Delitzsch on the meaning of the Hebrew verb behind "stand":
On Psalm 5:5, where the verb is yatsab, Delitzsch writes: "It is said of such people that they cannot keep their position when they come into view before the eye of God."
The same writer draws out what this does and does not say about the sinner.
Before that throne, then, the sinner in his sins cannot stand. "The wicked will not stand in the judgment." The point here is not that his standing has been a bad one, or that he must change it. On the contrary, the psalm plainly states that as a sinner, as a foolish person, he has no standing before a God of judgment — that is, before His throne.
Many read God's delay in acting as tolerance. One writer answers that, and traces the hatred to what evildoers have made of themselves.
His patience with evil is not indulgence, and it is not indifference. Proud boasters will not stand in His sight. Those who do evil can only expect hatred, because of the hateful character they have formed. Those who speak falsehood must reap the result of it: destruction.
The psalmist does not only report God's attitude. He shares it, and that is why such a God is his confidence.
The godly recognise God's holiness and share it by hating what is evil. His confidence is in a God who hates sin and evil, a holy God. He has no pleasure in wickedness or in folly. Falsehood He hates and liars He will destroy. Such are the enemies of God and his enemies also.
One writer calls the verse a fixed rule of God's government, and points beyond today to the day of Christ.
God's government has a standing rule: the foolish (or the proud) will not be established in His sight, for His eyes are too pure to look on evil. But the grand fulfilment of this truth waits for the coming of the day of Christ. When Jehovah's arm awakes, it will overthrow the proud in the imaginations of their heart.
Psalm 5 goes on to ask God to destroy His enemies, and many readers find they cannot pray it. One commentator faces the difficulty rather than smoothing it over.
God has set the godly apart for Himself, so of necessity He "hates all evildoers." Here, for the first time, the psalmist pleads against them, and no longer with them. It is one of those psalms whose words most Christians find hard to make their own. No wonder they cannot square "Destroy them, O God" with their Lord's "Father, forgive them."
Older translations render that line of Psalm 5 "Destroy them, O God"; the ESV has "Make them bear their guilt, O God."
No evildoer can hold ground before God. The gospel answers with a standing the sinner never earned.
The wicked cannot stand, but every believer has a standing that is unassailable. What is the ground of this standing? Is it his good experience, his enjoyment of divine things, his energy in service, his happy state? Not at all! He stands in grace — the grace revealed in the gospel.
- Character — The prayer rests on God's nature: what the godly love and hate, He loves and hates first.
- Standing — "Shall not stand" means the boastful cannot keep their footing under God's eye. The sinner has no position before the throne to improve.
- Hatred — God's patience with evil is not indulgence. His hatred answers the character the evildoer has formed.
- Day — This rule of God's government holds now. It reaches full display when Christ appears and overthrows the proud.
- Grace — The gospel gives the believer the very standing this verse denies the wicked, and it rests on nothing in the believer.
Thou wilt destroy them that speak lies Jehovah abhorreth a man of blood and deceit.
The psalmist expects God to hear him. His confidence rests on what God is like, not on his own goodness. The verse names two evils — the tongue that lies and the hand that sheds blood — and both meet the same answer from the Lord.
The psalm argues from what God is like to what God must do.
Psalm 5 presents the cry of the godly. His prayer appeals to the character of God, which must answer to the character of the godly. That character makes it necessary for God to hear him and to judge the wicked. If the godly love godliness, certainly Jehovah does; if the godly hate wickedness, certainly He does.
The judgment in this verse belongs to how God governs the world.
The psalmist thinks first of God. His prayer rests on this: the righteous character of God makes it impossible for God to pass over sin, and the government of God demands that He judge the wicked. God cannot take pleasure in wickedness, and He cannot let evil exist in His presence. So under God's government the man who does evil must come under judgment, and under the abhorrence of God (4-6).
The phrase joins two evils: violence and the cover-up that hides it.
"The bloodthirsty and deceitful man" is the man whose wickedness goes as far as murder. He uses every clever trick to hide his evil, but the Lord will expose it, for He abhors such characters (v. 6).
Elsewhere the same writer shows who each half of the description is aimed at.
By being bloodthirsty, they show themselves to be against people; by being deceitful, they reveal their hatred toward God.
The psalm builds a picture of God's nature set against evil.
The second part dwells on God's nature as set against evil. He is not like one of the mighty rulers of the nations, who joins power with pleasure in wickedness. Evil cannot live with Him for even the shortest moment. The boaster, who claims more than is true, cannot stand before the searching eyes of the God who knows all things. And He hates those who do what is worthless and empty. In the end those who act out a lie perish, and the righteous Judge shows His abhorrence of the violence that men join to their deceit.
Several writers read this description as pointing beyond any single enemy of David's day to a deceiver still to come. One of them is careful about how far the link goes. He quotes an older translation, which reads "the bloody and deceitful man."
In the book of Psalms prophecy describes him by his character, as "the man of the earth" (Ps. 10:18) and as "the bloody and deceitful man" (Ps. 5:6). These descriptions fit wicked people in general in the coming crisis. Yet there is one person, and only one, to whom they can refer in the fullest sense. It is the character of the Antichrist, and not his person, that these and other Psalms set before us.
The verse does not leave the reader looking at evil. Verse 7 turns immediately to the house of God, and the shift is the point.
The godly recognize God's holiness and share it by hating iniquity. The godly man's confidence is in a holy God who hates sin and iniquity. He hates falsehood, and He will destroy liars. The bloody and deceitful man mentioned in verse 6 is the first mention of the man of sin, the false Christ, who will persecute Jewish believers in the future. And how beautiful it is to see faith breaking through the gathering storm clouds again. Faith sees the final victory.
How does a prayer against enemies fit with the call to love your enemies? The answer turns on where a person's portion lies.
The Jew has his portion on the earth. He "looks for the removal of the violent and deceitful man, in order for his own comfort and rest. Not so the Christian. He leaves the violent man here and goes to heaven" (JND). This explains the prayer for judgment on enemies found in this psalm and in many others. The Christian is to pray for his enemies. So the psalm does not present Christian experience, though the righteous character of God and the principles of His government, set out in the psalm, remain true for ever.
- Character — The prayer's whole force is God's nature: evil cannot live in His presence, so He must act against it.
- Deceit — Lies reveal hatred of God, and the cover-up the liar trusts is the very thing God will expose.
- Blood — Violence against people is the other half of the same character, and the Lord abhors it.
- Antichrist — The words reach forward to a deceiver still to come. Commentators stress that these psalms paint his character, not his person.
- Worship — Faith breaks through the storm clouds: the godly share God's hatred of evil and see the final victory.
But as for me, in the greatness of thy loving-kindness will I enter thy house; I will bow down toward the temple of thy holiness in thy fear.
Psalm 5 is the prayer of a man surrounded by lies and violence, who has just described a God who takes no pleasure in wickedness. Verse 7 is the turn: this man says he will come in, and he names mercy and fear as what makes that possible.
The opening words set this worshipper apart from the men described just before.
How beautiful is the difference in one who has the true fear of God before his eyes! He comes boldly into the house of God in the multitude of God's mercy. He gains entrance only by God's mercy. Yet in the confidence of that mercy he is at perfect liberty, so his worship is spontaneous and real. In New Testament language, he worships the Father "in spirit and truth" (John 4:23).
This confidence comes right after the darkest description of his enemies.
The godly recognize God's holiness and share it by hating iniquity. His confidence is in a God who hates sin and iniquity, a holy God... And how beautiful it is to see faith breaking through the gathering storm clouds again — "But I, through the abundance of your steadfast love, will enter your house. I will bow down toward your holy temple in the fear of you." Faith sees the final victory.
"The abundance of your steadfast love" is not decoration. It is the stated ground of entry, and the psalmist claims no right of his own.
As for the godly man, the psalmist recognizes that he can only enter into God's house — the presence of God — on the ground of mercy.
Received mercy also gives the worshipper his identity at the door. It is not something he leaves behind once inside.
Our souls, if we are saints of God, will breathe, "If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared" — or worshipped (Psalm 130:3-4). All service of the name of our God comes of this; and our thankful acceptance of forgiveness... is our entrance into His temple, our taking up of that character in which alone we can do service in the heavenly temple, that is, of pardoned sinners.
"In the fear of you" is the manner of the worship. It comes from what the psalmist has been looking at: surrounded by evil, he is not staring at the evil.
Evil may be all around, and there is the awareness that God is "not a God who delights in wickedness." But the soul is not occupied with evil; it is occupied with the Lord. So holy fear grows — "I will bow down toward your holy temple in the fear of you." This does not produce indifference to evil. It produces the fitting conduct toward it.
The wording carries a difficulty worth noticing: David had no temple to face. One writer takes that as a sign the psalm reaches past its own moment.
But note that Psalm 5 shows how the Spirit of Christ looks past present circumstances and on to what is prophetic. In David's time there was no house and no temple. Circumstances may have prompted the words used in the Psalms and elsewhere, but those words go far beyond them.
Another writer explains what it means to worship toward a house you are not standing in.
Furthermore the psalmist worships toward Jehovah's holy temple. This shows that the godly man is not yet established in the land. Like Daniel, though not in the temple, he prays toward it, in the faith of Solomon's prayer. Solomon had asked that God would hear His people if they prayed in their time of trouble. They were to pray toward the city that God had chosen, and toward the house built for the glory of His Name.
Verse 7 does not stand alone. Verse 8 grows out of it.
The psalmist has been in God's presence as a worshiper. He wants no contrary attitude when he walks before men, so he calls on God to lead him in His righteousness. Every believer should desire and pray for a walk that matches his worship.
- Mercy opens. Only mercy opens the door into God's presence. The worshipper's own standing gives him no claim.
- Mercy emboldens. Confidence rests on mercy, not on merit. So the worship that follows is free, spontaneous and real.
- Mercy produces fear. Forgiveness is what makes God feared and worshipped. Inside the house the worshipper keeps the character of a pardoned sinner.
- Fear reaches. The temple did not yet exist in David's day. Faith still looks beyond present circumstances, as Daniel prayed toward a house he was far from.
- Fear walks. What begins in God's presence must not contradict itself outside. Worship leads straight to the prayer for God's leading in righteousness, in front of watching enemies.
Lead me, Jehovah, in thy righteousness, because of my foes; make thy way plain before me.
Psalm 5 is the prayer of a man surrounded by enemies. He has just spoken of entering God's house. Now he asks God to lead him out among the people who watch him. He does not ask to escape them. He asks for direction: God's righteousness as the path, and God's way made plain in front of him.
He comes into God's presence on one ground, and asks to walk before men on another.
As for the godly man, the psalmist recognizes that he can only enter into God's house — the presence of God — on the ground of mercy. Nevertheless, in the presence of his enemies, he looks to God to lead him in righteousness, and that God's way may be made plain before his face (7-8).
His walk outside should match his worship inside.
The psalmist has been in the presence of God as a worshiper. He wants no contrary attitude when he walks before men. So he calls on God to lead him in His righteousness. Every believer should desire and pray for a walk that matches his worship.
The word "lead" admits something about the man who prays it. He is not asking for a map. He is asking for a hand. This verse sits in a chain of such prayers, and each link asks for more.
Sheep are passive creatures and can do little for themselves. Believers are the same in the work of their salvation. In themselves they know no more of the way of salvation than sheep do. So they cannot walk unless they are taught and led. "Teach me, O LORD" (Ps. 119:33); "Lead me in Your truth" (Ps. 25:5). Like a blind man holding out his hand to his guide, so they ask: "Lead me, O LORD, in Your righteousness" (Ps. 5:8). Leading may suppose some willingness; but we must be drawn: "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him" (John 6:44). There is a word of special grace that is more than teaching, leading and drawing. That word is leaning: "Who is this that comes up from the wilderness, leaning on her Beloved?" There is a word beyond even that, and it is bearing. When the good Shepherd has found the lost sheep, "he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing" (Luke 15:5).
He gives a reason for the prayer: other people. Some translations read "those who watch me." Watching enemies would see a false step, and it would dishonour God.
This does not make us indifferent to evil. It produces the conduct that suits it: "Lead me, O LORD, in Your righteousness because of those who observe me; make Your way straight before my face." The Lord has a way of His own, and His will is good and acceptable. But we need to learn it in the presence of watchful enemies, so that we do not dishonour Him.
He knows his own weakness, and the watching eyes make him feel it.
He feels his weakness under the gaze of those keen and hostile eyes that watch for him to stumble. So he prays that God will lead him along His own path, made straight before his face. That path is the only way of security and peace and power, for God is in it.
In the second half of the verse he asks God to make the road plain ahead of him. Older translations read "before my face" — a path running straight in front.
God delights to make His way straight before our eyes. It is a way that turns neither to the right nor to the left. It goes straight on toward the Lord Jesus in glory. If we set our eyes on Him, we shall not turn aside from single-hearted devotion to the Lord. Such a path would be a clear rebuke to those whose words hold no faithfulness and whose inner motives were only to destroy.
The order of the prayers matters. He asks for direction first. The prayer about his enemies comes after.
Prayer for guidance stands first: "Lead me, O LORD, in Your righteousness because of my enemies." The psalm then describes what these enemies will be and what their character is, above all the future enemies of Israel. Prayer for judgment follows.
- Mercy first. He enters God's presence on the ground of mercy. He asks to walk before men on the ground of God's righteousness.
- Led, not just taught. "Lead me" is the hand of a blind man held out to a guide. Behind leading stand drawing, leaning, and the Shepherd's shoulders.
- Watched. Enemies observe him and wait for a stumble. That is the reason he gives: a fall would dishonour God.
- Straight. He asks for a way made plain ahead, turning neither right nor left — the only path of security, peace and power, because God is in it.
- Guidance before judgment. He asks for direction first; the prayer about his enemies comes after.
For there is no certainty in their mouth; their inward part is perversion, their throat is an open sepulchre; they flatter with their tongue.
David has just asked God to lead him in a straight path because of his enemies; verse 9 tells us who those enemies are. It is a portrait drawn from the mouth, and the New Testament later turns it on the whole human race.
The description of the wicked is not a stray outburst. It grows out of the request in verse 8, where the psalmist asks for a walk that matches the worship he has just offered.
Surely every believer should desire and pray for a walk consistent with his worship. God delights to make His way straight before our eyes. It is a way that turns neither to the right nor to the left, but goes straight on toward the Lord Jesus in glory. Such a path would be a clear reproof to them. There is no faithfulness in their mouths, and their inward motives were only those of destruction. How did David know these motives? Because they showed themselves by their words, their throat being a virtual grave.
Two things mark these people at once: how they act toward others, and how they stand toward God.
The ungodly are marked by corruption before men and rebellion toward God. Flattery is on their tongues; rebellion is in their hearts. The godly man looks to God to carry out judgment on them (9-10).
One image is smooth on the surface; the other is rotten underneath. One writer warns against reading this as overstated language.
These enemies of the righteous lie all around. Their tongue is smooth but slippery, their throat a yawning grave, with depths inside that no one can fathom. Such is the divine picture — and we may be very sure, therefore, that it is not an exaggerated one — of man away from God. What a swamp to swallow up the unwary! What a contradiction to the fixed, clear certainty of the truth of God!
The verse names both the mouth and the inmost self. Words are the visible proof of an invisible condition.
Much of what man says is hypocritical. Still, it is true in the main that when he speaks he expresses what he is, for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks (Matt. 12:34). So we read, "Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive; the venom of asps is under their lips. Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness" (Rom. 3:13-14). All these things come out of the heart, the seat of life, "and they defile a person" (Matt. 15:18).
Paul takes this line and sets it among texts from several psalms and the prophets. One writer describes the scene as a courtroom, and answers the obvious objection that such words only fit the worst of people.
Man is brought into court. God brings forward a series of charges He has against him. They are not taken from one psalm or prophet only, but pieces collected from different parts of the Scriptures, so as to give the different characters of man. Some charges might seem to be spoken only against notorious sinners: "Their throat is an open grave." But others must apply to all. Take verse 17: "The way of peace they have not known." What man of Adam's race ever knew the way of peace? See how he winds up the trial: "Every mouth stopped, and all the world become guilty before God."
The two halves of the line say different things about the same person.
The throat discloses the utter corruption of the flesh — it is an open grave. This corruption shows itself by lying lips.
The charge has a purpose, and it is not the last word. The mouth that the psalm condemns can serve the opposite use.
The law speaks of what comes out of the mouth of the unconverted sinner, and we shudder at its faithful testimony. The law speaks to the man under it, so that his mouth may be stopped. A gateway open for such a flood of wickedness had better be shut up forever. But if faith purifies the heart, and grace fills the lips, what flows out will be a delight to the hearer.
- Walk — the verse answers a prayer for a straight path. A life that matches its worship rebukes unfaithful mouths.
- Mouth — words are the evidence. When a person speaks, he shows what he already is, for the mouth speaks out of the heart's abundance.
- Grave — a smooth tongue over an open grave: this is God's own picture of man away from Him, and it is not exaggerated.
- Court — Romans gathers this line with others to charge the whole race. Some charges fit everyone, so every mouth is stopped.
- Grace — the law stops the mouth so that faith may open it again. Lips once full of poison pour out what refreshes others.
Bring guilt upon them, O God; let them fall by their own counsels drive them out in the multitude of their transgressions, for they have rebelled against thee.
The psalmist has just come into God's house on the ground of mercy. Now he turns and asks God to bring the wicked down — the first prayer of its kind in the Psalms, and one that raises two questions: what makes such a prayer right, and whose prayer is it?
The prayer does not start with the psalmist's grievance. It starts with what God is like, and what He must therefore do.
The psalmist thinks first of God. His prayer rests on the righteous character of God, which makes it impossible for God to pass over sin. And the government of God demands that God judge the wicked. God is such that He cannot take pleasure in wickedness, or allow evil to exist in His presence. So under God's government the man who does evil must come under God's judgment, and God loathes him.
Something has shifted in this psalm. Earlier the psalmist prayed for wicked men. Here he stops and asks God for the sentence.
As we have seen, the psalmist no longer prays for men who are set in their wickedness. He prays instead that God will bring on them the judgment they deserve: "let them fall by their own counsels; because of the abundance of their transgressions cast them out" (v. 10). This will happen in the end. It is the only answer God has left where grace is refused and rebellion goes on.
The Hebrew asks less for an arbitrary blow than for a verdict, and the ruin comes out of the plotters' own schemes. One rendering makes both points plain:
Treat them as guilty, O God; they shall fall from their counsels; in the multitude of their transgressions cast them down; for they have rebelled against you.
So is it right to ask God for this? One writer says yes, and points to a prayer God answered with fire. His wording, "Destroy them, O God," comes from an older translation of the verse.
The prayer, "Destroy them, O God; for they have rebelled against you," is not wrong when you test it by what is right in itself. If it is right for God to destroy, and it is, then it is not wrong to ask Him to do it. More than that, this prayer is taught by the Spirit, and God answers it. As the Lord says: "And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? … I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily." (Luke 18:7-8.) So when the prophet Elijah asked for fire from heaven to burn up the men sent to arrest him, the fire came. God put His seal on that prayer, terrible as it was.
This description reaches beyond David's enemies. The New Testament picks it up and uses it far more widely.
We do well to remember this. These verses (9, 10) describe the moral state of sinners when sin has come to its full growth and is ripe for judgment. The New Testament quotes that description (Rom. 3:13), along with other passages like it, to show what human nature is like once it has turned from God, according to the verdict of the law. "They have rebelled against you" is the witness of the Spirit of truth and holiness, when He calls for judgment to go ahead against those who work evil.
The prayer is right, but it is not ours. The reason is the difference between an earthly portion and a heavenly one.
The psalm shows plainly how different the earthly blessing of the godly Jew is from the heavenly blessings of the Christian. The Jew has his portion on the earth, so he "looks for the removal of the violent and deceitful man, so that he himself may have comfort and rest. Not so the Christian. He leaves the violent man here and goes to heaven" (JND). That explains the prayer for judgment on enemies in this psalm, and in many others. The Christian is to pray for his enemies.
This prayer also has a date. The psalm looks past David's day.
The psalm describes these enemies, above all the future enemies of Israel, and what they are like. Then comes the prayer for judgment. This is the first prayer here that calls down judgment (verse 10). This prayer, and the others like it, will be prayed in the final days of this age, when the wicked are ripe for judgment. God will answer it. Then the righteous will be delivered and will have joy (verses 11, 12).
- Character — The plea rests on what God is. He cannot take pleasure in wickedness or let evil stay in His presence. So His government must judge the evildoer.
- Guilt — The ask is judgment, not private revenge. Let them fall by their own counsels, because they have rebelled against God.
- Reach — The New Testament quotes verses 9-10 in Romans 3:13. They describe human nature turned from God, not just one set of ancient enemies.
- Timing — This is the first prayer of its kind in the Psalms. It belongs to the last days, when grace has been refused and the wicked are ripe for judgment. God will answer it.
- Ours instead — The Christian leaves the violent man here and goes to heaven. This prayer is not his. He is to pray for his enemies.
And all that trust in thee shall rejoice for ever shall they shout joyously, and thou wilt protect them; and they that love thy name shall exult in thee.
Psalm 5 spends ten verses on God's holiness and on the people who fight Him. Verse 11 turns the prayer around: that same holiness now becomes the reason the righteous can shout for joy.
Everything before this verse is dark — lies, open graves, rebellion. One commentator marks verse 11 as the point where the picture flips.
From verse 11 we have a happy contrast to the picture just given. Now comes the celebration of Jehovah's name for the blessed ways His grace has shown itself. He covers and defends. His name is the joyful boast of His saints, whose sanctification is Himself. His favour is around them for ever, as a shield of sure deliverance.
The two halves of the psalm are not separate subjects.
But this judgment of the ungodly will free the godly from the grip of evil men.
The ESV reads "spread your protection over them." Older translations say "because You defend them." One writer explains the plain sense of that older wording.
Let them ever shout for joy because You defend them (that is, He covers or protects them).
The rejoicing here has more than one cause, and the deeper one is not the escape but the Person behind it.
Then those who trust the Lord will rejoice greatly. They rejoice not only because He delivered them, but because He has vindicated the honour of His name. So believers have reason to shout for joy — not only because He defended them, but because they love the great Defender. They rejoice in the Lord.
The verse singles out "those who love your name." But why would a name be worth loving?
It is God Himself in whom he rejoices, and whom His works make known; it is His name which he celebrates in psalms. This is the joy of joys. With changeable man it is not so, but what God has done truly shows Himself, His nature — and that is what His "Name" means.
The confidence of verse 11 is not optimism about circumstances. It rests on what the psalm has already said about God in verses 4 to 6.
Psalm 5 is the assurance that if the godly love godliness, God certainly does. Jehovah will hate the bloodthirsty and deceitful. Jehovah will bless the righteous.
Read that way, the whole psalm hangs together as a single appeal.
This is an appeal to God to judge the wicked, so that the godly may enter into their blessing. The appeal rests on God's righteous government and His unchanging character.
Just before verse 11, the psalm asks God to cast the enemies out. Commentators explain this by pointing to where each believer's portion lies.
The Jew, having his portion on the earth, "looks for the removal of the violent and deceitful man, in order for his own comfort and rest. Not so the Christian. He leaves the violent man here and goes to heaven" (J. N. Darby). This explains the prayer for judgment on enemies in this psalm and in many others. The Christian is to pray for his enemies. So the psalm does not present Christian experience. Yet what it sets out — the righteous character of God and the principles of His government — remains true for ever.
The verse begins with those who take refuge in God, and that act is not complicated.
We cannot stress too much the importance of this simple trust in the Lord — just leaning on Him every day and every hour of the day.
- Refuge — The verse opens with those who take refuge in God. That refuge is simply leaning on Him each day and each hour.
- Cover — "Defend" means to cover or protect. God Himself is the shelter over those who run to Him.
- Joy — The shout is not only about rescue. Those God defends come to love the Defender, and rejoice in Him.
- Name — To love His name is to love what He has shown Himself to be, since His name is the real disclosure of His nature.
- Ground — This confidence rests on God's unchanging character. He hates wickedness, so He will bless the righteous.
For thou, Jehovah, wilt bless the righteous [man]; with favour wilt thou surround him as [with] a shield.
Psalm 5 has been praying against wicked men. Its closing line answers the question the whole prayer drives at: whose side is God on, and how far does His protection reach?
This last verse gives the reason God acts, and the reason His people are glad He does.
And God must step in for His own. When wickedness bands together against the righteous, can there be any question which side He will be on? Can He give up the world to riot and misrule? No: He has promises to fulfil, and blessings for the earth itself. These can only stand together with the removal of the wicked from it… The last verse gives once more the reason for this action of His government, and the ground for the joy that He does step in.
The prayer rests on what God is like, not on the strength of the one praying.
Psalm 5 presents the cry of the godly. It appeals to the character of God, which must answer to the character of the godly, and so He must hear him and judge the wicked. If the godly love godliness, surely Jehovah does; if the godly hate wickedness, surely He does.
The ESV says God covers the righteous with favour. Other translations read "surround", and one writer follows the same word to Psalm 103, where translators render it "crowns".
The word "crowns" could be rendered "encircled for protection" or "surrounded." Psalm 5:12 puts it that way — "For you, Lord, will bless the righteous; with favour you will surround him as with a shield." The same word appears again in Psalm 103, where the psalmist breaks out: "Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits… who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, who satisfies you with good."
The shield is not equipment God hands out. God Himself is the shield.
How good it is to find that God is often called in Scripture the Shield of His people! "Fear not, Abram," God said, "I am your shield; your reward shall be very great." (Gen. 15:1.) The living God is His people's shield. What rest, what security this gives! Behind His wide shield we have nothing to fear.
Verses 11 and 12 belong together. The joy they describe is more than relief at being safe.
Believers have reason to shout for joy, not only because He has defended them, but because they love the great Defender. They rejoice in the Lord (v. 11). For they recognise that it is He who blesses the righteous, both delivering them and surrounding them with His favour as a constant shield (v. 12).
Verse 11 turns from the dark picture before it to praise, and Christians share in what it describes.
From verse 11 we have a happy contrast to the picture before it, in the celebration of Jehovah's name according to the blessed showings of His grace. He covers and defends. His name is the joyful boast of His saints, whose sanctification is Himself. His favour is around them for ever, as a shield of sure deliverance. The Christian knows the meaning of this, and tastes its sweet blessing in Jesus.
- Ground — God's own character settles the matter. When wickedness bands together against the righteous, He will not be on its side.
- Blessing — God does more than rescue. He blesses the righteous, and He has promises to fulfil and blessings for the earth itself.
- Reach — the word behind "cover" means encircled, surrounded, crowned. Psalm 103 uses it of God crowning His people with steadfast love and mercy.
- Shield — the protection is a Person. As with Abram, God says of Himself, "I am your shield," and behind that shield there is nothing to fear.
- Result — those God surrounds shout for joy. Their joy rises past the rescue to the Rescuer: they rejoice in the Lord Himself.
(To the chief Musician. On stringed instruments, upon Sheminith. A Psalm of David.) Jehovah, rebuke me not in thine anger, and chasten me not in thy hot displeasure.
In Psalm 6, David is under pressure from enemies, yet what he dreads most is God's own displeasure. His opening words do not ask God to stop dealing with him. They ask that the dealing not come in anger. (Older translations read 'hot displeasure' where the ESV has 'wrath'.)
One writer describes the state this cry comes from — a faithful few in Israel, called the remnant, whose conscience is not yet clear:
In Psalm 6 the remnant stand on different ground. They are oppressed. Their soul is troubled, and extreme distress presses on their spirit. Their conscience is not yet clear, so they fear that Jehovah may be against them in anger. They ask that Jehovah would not rebuke them in anger, or discipline them in hot displeasure. As a nation they had deserved that anger, but the redeemed heart begs to be spared it. They look to be saved through mercy and saved from death, and they call on the wicked to leave, for Jehovah has heard.
The correction itself is not what he resists. It is the anger in it. One writer follows the plea through to the believer's own case:
This is the state Psalm 6 puts before us. The soul pleads the distress and loneliness it is lying under. It looks for mercy, and asks that the rebuke may not be in anger. It has confidence in God, even while it thinks that the rebuke of His anger would be only the natural result. It admits this would be just, yet it rests in faith on grace and says, How long? God cannot cast off for ever those who trust in Him: light will spring up. There is a relationship with God, and faith counts on it... When the believer has peace, he looks at discipline, even when it is justly severe, as a sure sign of God's favour. So his horror of sin is of a much purer kind, because it hates the sin and not its consequences.
Enemies press hard in this psalm, yet in these words they almost drop out of sight. Commentators differ on how to read that. One takes the cry as a broken confession:
The malice of enemies is at work. Indeed, as we can plainly see, God has used that malice to bring the soul where it is. But the soul feels it as His displeasure. When this presses, the anguish of the thought leaves room for nothing else, and the enemies themselves are almost forgotten. It is a cry of repentance and brokenness of heart: for Jehovah's wrath cannot be causeless, any more than powerless.
Another reads the same words as fear rather than admission of a particular sin:
Note that this is not a personal confession of sin. The soul is oppressed by enemies. Looking at Jehovah's anger and displeasure, it cries to Him for deliverance, so that the oppression of the wicked may not take on that character. The righteous man is suffering from man, and he pleads against death from the hand of Jehovah. He looks to God to be for him, and not against him in his trouble. It is the cry of distress, not of confession.
The psalm's heading includes the word Sheminith, which points to how it was sung:
A Hebrew word in the headings of Ps. 6 and Ps. 12, and in 1 Chr. 15:21. In the margin these passages read 'on the eighth,' and the Greek Old Testament agrees. It was probably an instrument of eight strings (from shemoneh, 'eight'). Gesenius says it means 'octave', and so the lowest notes of the scale, sung by men.
This condition is one the Lord Himself is able to share:
In Psalm 6, the Remnant, the godly man, pressed by the wicked, pleads with God that His anger, which the nation deserves, should not rest on him... Christ fully entered this sorrow of the righteous man in Israel, pressed by the power of enemies. He was willing and obedient to be born into the middle of it, but not part of it. This Psalm is still the condition of the godly man — the Remnant — into which Christ enters with perfect sympathy. He who sympathises with sorrow does not have the sorrow, but has a nature and a place in which He is able to enter into it.
Verses like this are the reason set prayers fail at the worst moments:
"O LORD, rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath." (David, Ps. 6:1)... What good would a prayer book or a written form of prayer have been to men in such circumstances? The distresses of the heart none can anticipate. All that is artificial only adds to the sorrow.
- Pressure. Enemies drive the psalmist to God. What he feels there is God's displeasure, and the enemies almost disappear from view.
- Plea. He accepts that the rebuke is deserved. What he begs is that it not come in anger.
- Confidence. Faith counts on the relationship: God cannot cast off for ever those who trust in Him.
- Difference. Once a believer has peace, even severe discipline reads as a sure sign of God's favour, not His wrath.
- Sympathy. Christ fully entered this sorrow of the godly sufferer, and He still enters it with perfect sympathy.
Be gracious unto me, Jehovah, for I am withered; Jehovah, heal me, for my bones tremble.
The verse before asks God not to rebuke in anger; here the cry turns to mercy, healing, and a body worn down by strain. Is this trouble God's displeasure or man's malice, and how can a sufferer this weak ask God for anything?
The psalm's first plea and this one belong together. They deserve what they fear. They do not deserve what they ask.
In Psalm 6 the remnant take another ground. They are oppressed. Their soul is in anguish. Distress presses on their spirit to the limit. Their conscience is not cleared, so they fear that Jehovah might be against them in anger. They ask Him not to rebuke them in anger or discipline them in hot displeasure. As a nation they had deserved that, but the redeemed heart shrinks from it. Yet they look to be saved through mercy and saved from death.
The reason given for mercy is not merit but weakness. One writer finds great faith in an appeal that holds up a wasted body to the God who made it.
So the soul pleads, and pleads on, for He is gracious, laying bare its grief and even the effect of it on the body. Is He not Creator? Has He not made the body? Does He not feel, who has given the very capacity of feeling? The wasting flesh, the shaking bones, all the strong helpers bowed down by this distress — what a faith this shows! More than it might seem, that faith knows the tender pity of the One it deals with.
Another writer takes the "bones" as the body's own frame. The trouble runs through the whole person and reaches the soul in the next verse.
He knows that God's anger is righteous, and that David deserved His hot displeasure. But it reaches so deep into his soul that he cries out for mercy (v. 2). He pleads that he is weak and can barely bear the anguish he suffers. Physical suffering seems to be involved here too. Trouble reaches his bones, the framework of the body, as well as his soul (v. 3).
Nothing in the verse names a specific sin. Owning guilt is one thing. Fearing that trouble from men is really anger from God is another.
Note that this is not a personal confession of sin. Enemies oppress the soul, and it looks at Jehovah's anger and displeasure. So it cries to Him for deliverance, so that the oppression of the wicked may not take that character. The righteous man is suffering from man, and he pleads against death from the hand of Jehovah. He looks to God to be for him, and not against him in his trouble. It is the cry of distress, not of confession.
Commentators differ over who is speaking. Some read the psalm as the experience of Christ Himself, in view of what lay ahead of Him.
Our hearts can hear the strong crying and tears of Him who, though He was a Son, learned obedience through what He suffered. The opening sentence of the psalm points straight to the cross. All these sufferings led towards that point. Only the anticipation of it could draw such prayers from such a Sufferer.
Others answer that the psalm's appeal to mercy rules that reading out. (The line quoted below comes from an older translation; the ESV of verse 4 reads, "save me for the sake of your steadfast love.")
The Psalms keep appealing to the mercy of God. They always put His mercy before His righteousness, as it will be with Israel in that day. This is what marks them out: "God prepares their heart," for they must come in under mercy. That is the case in Psalm 6 itself, where it says, "Save me for Your mercy's sake." This sets aside the whole principle of applying the psalm to Christ.
This psalm hopes for rescue on this side of death. Yet its way of praying fits anyone under God's hand.
In any day of failure it is right to own God's discipline of His people and to throw ourselves on His mercy. Yet the experience of this psalm is that of an earthly saint. The Christian looks for blessing in resurrection, beyond death, in a heavenly scene. The psalmist looks for blessing on earth without going into death.
- Mercy asked — the cry never calls God's anger unjust. It asks mercy to take the place of anger. They dread what they deserve and ask for what they do not.
- Mercy's ground — the plea rests on weakness, not worth. "I am languishing" is the whole argument, and it goes to the Creator who made the body and gave it the power to feel.
- Mercy's depth — the bones are the body's frame, and they shake with the soul. The trouble runs through the whole person.
- Mercy before confession — this verse names no sin. Distress cries out, and the fear is that man's malice may prove to be God's displeasure.
- Mercy's reach — commentators differ over who speaks — Christ, or the suffering remnant. Either way the lesson holds: own God's discipline and throw yourself on His mercy.
And my soul trembleth exceedingly and thou, Jehovah, till how long?
Psalm 6 is the prayer of a man whose trouble has reached his body and his soul at once. In verse 3 his account of the pain breaks off into one unfinished question — "how long" — and commentators read that broken cry as faith, not despair.
Verse 2 speaks of bones; verse 3 moves inward to the soul. One writer sees the distress as physical as well as inward:
He knows that God's anger is righteous, and that His hot displeasure is what David deserved. But it reaches so deep into his soul that he cries out for mercy (v. 2). He pleads that he is weak and can barely bear the anguish he suffers. Physical suffering seems to be involved here too, for the trouble reaches his bones (the framework of the body) as well as his soul (v. 3).
Older translations render the word "vexed"; one careful rendering has "my bones are terrified" and "my soul is greatly terrified" — the same word used twice, so that the shaking in the body and the shaking in the soul are named alike.
Enemies stand in the background of the psalm. But the prayer of verse 3 goes past them to God:
Enemies have clearly caused the pain and distress he suffers. Yet he realizes that the hand of God is behind this, so he is dealing with God Himself, not with enemies.
Another writer notes how the godly themselves read such trouble:
Here we have the deep soul exercise of the godly expressed. In the middle of the trials and sorrows they search their hearts. God uses the persecution of the enemies to bring His people into the dust. And so they feel the trial and sorrow that passes over them as divine displeasure against sin.
The question is not a complaint that God has failed. It assumes He has a limit in mind:
The soul has owned that God is righteous in chastening it. Now it pleads for God to step in — first, on the ground of mercy; second, on the ground that God cannot be indifferent to the distress of His own. He will put a limit to this distress. Therefore faith can ask, "O Lord, how long?"
Another writer adds that the absence of this cry is the worse sign:
So affliction weighs heavily on the people of God, and they are not enjoying all the privileges which faith knows belong to them. Then faith says, "How long, O Lord!" On the one hand, such a person cannot rest content with the troubles the people of God are under. On the other, he knows that it is impossible for God to abandon His people… When under chastening, if there is no faith to use this expression, a worse one takes its place: "I have loved strangers, and after them will I go."
Commentators note what this psalm does not contain. The sufferer never names a particular sin:
It may be noted that this is not a personal confession of sin. The soul is oppressed by enemies, and looks at Jehovah's anger and displeasure. So it cries to Him for deliverance, that the oppression of the wicked may not take that character… It is the cry of distress, not of confession — though it comes from a place where one was liable to meet with anger and displeasure.
One writer reads the psalm as the voice of a faithful group in Israel under pressure. He sees Christ entering that experience Himself:
In Psalm 6, the Remnant — the godly man, pressed by the wicked — pleads with God that His anger, due to the people, should not rest on him… Christ entered fully into this sorrow of the righteous man in Israel, pressed by the power of enemies… This Psalm is still the condition of the godly man, and Christ enters into it with perfect sympathy. He who sympathises with sorrow does not have the sorrow. But He has a nature and a place that make Him able to enter into it.
- Whole person. The trouble reaches his bones and his soul at once; body and inner life suffer together.
- One address. Enemies caused the pain, but the sufferer looks past them to the hand of God behind it, and speaks to Him alone.
- Faith's question. The sufferer asks "how long" because God cannot be indifferent to His own and will set a limit. The question itself confesses that He has not abandoned them.
- Not yet confession. This is the cry of distress, not of confession; the sufferer pleads against God's anger without naming a sin.
- Shared sorrow. Christ entered this exact condition, so the cry of verse 3 rises from a place He knows from the inside.
Return, Jehovah, free my soul; save me for thy loving-kindness' sake.
Psalm 6 is the prayer of a man crushed by enemies and afraid that God is against him too. Verse 4 is the turning point: he asks God to come back, and rests his case on mercy alone.
The cry asks for more than rescue. It asks God to turn back in blessing, and it keeps a goal in view:
With growing confidence the soul looks to the Lord to return in blessing. It asks Him to deliver his soul from going down into death and the grave, so that he might live on the earth for the praise of the Lord.
The psalm never names a particular sin. What presses on the speaker is trouble from men plus the dread that God's hand is in it too.
Note that this is not a personal confession of sin. Enemies crush the soul. Looking at Jehovah's anger and displeasure, it cries to Him for deliverance, so that the oppression of the wicked may not take on that character. The righteous man is suffering from man, and he pleads against death at the hand of Jehovah. He looks to God to be for him, and not against him in his trouble. It is the cry of distress, not of confession, though it comes from one who was liable to meet anger and displeasure. Death here has no character of atonement. It is the result of God's government, and the righteous ask Him to step in on the ground of mercy.
Commentators notice the order of the words. Mercy comes first, before any appeal to righteousness. That order shows who is praying: the remnant, the faithful few left in Israel.
Verse 4: in the psalms where the remnant speaks, mercy comes before righteousness. In Psalm 4, where it is more the Lord Himself, righteousness comes before mercy.
That order also settles a dispute. One writer applied this psalm to Christ Himself, and the words of verse 4 answer him:
What is remarkable in the Psalms is that they appeal again and again to the mercy of God. They put it always before His righteousness, as it will be with Israel in that day. It is this that marks them out: "God prepares their heart," for they must come in under mercy... And this is the case in Psalm 6 itself, the psalm this writer comments on. It says, "save me for the sake of your steadfast love." That sets aside his whole principle of applying the psalm to Christ.
Older translations render that line "save me for thy mercies' sake."
He gives God no reason to act except God's own character. That also explains why death frightens him.
The psalmist asks the Lord to save him for the sake of His steadfast love. This is not a claim of keeping the law. Will the Lord delay until death overtakes the sufferer? How could he have any remembrance of the Lord then? Today believers know that even death does not cancel the work of God's grace in any way. Old Testament believers did not have that clear revelation.
The prayer is desperate, but not despairing.
It pleads the distress and desolation it is lying under, looks for mercy, and asks that the rebuke may not be in anger. It owns that the rebuke of His anger would be just, yet resting in faith on grace it says, How long? God cannot cast off for ever those who trust in Him: light will spring up. There is relationship with God, and faith counts on it. So the heart can plead its extreme sorrow and trial with a God whose compassion it knows.
People still pray these words today, and not only Christians:
Words like those of verse 4 have been on the lips of orthodox Jews for years: "Turn, O LORD, deliver my life!" Many cry for the return of their Messiah. They have not realised that their only Messiah is the Lord Jesus. If they had realised this, they would long ago have been delivered.
Christians can pray it too, but with one difference:
It is right in any day of failure to own the chastening of God's people and to cast ourselves on the mercy of God. Yet the experience of the psalm is that of an earthly saint. The Christian looks for his blessing in resurrection, beyond death, in a heavenly scene. The psalmist looks for blessing on earth without going into death.
- Turn — the plea is for God to move from chastening to blessing; the sufferer wants God for him, not against him.
- Deliver — what he fears is death under God's hand, because he sees no praise of God beyond the grave.
- Mercy first — he asks God to save him for mercy's sake, with no law-keeping and no merit of his own.
- Order matters — where the sufferer speaks, mercy comes before righteousness. That is why this prayer cannot be Christ pleading for Himself.
- Confidence — under the complaint there is certainty. God does not cast off for ever those who trust Him, and light will spring up.
For in death there is no remembrance of thee; in Sheol who shall give thanks unto thee?
The one praying is close to death, and he turns that into an argument: a dead man cannot remember God or thank Him, so let God act while there is still time. Is this a cry shaped by distress, or a statement about what death really is?
The psalm opens in fear that God's hand is raised in anger, and verse 5 belongs to that fear.
In Psalm 6 the remnant — the faithful few in Israel — take different ground. They are oppressed and their soul is troubled. Extreme distress presses on their spirit, and because their conscience is not cleared, they fear that Jehovah may be against them in anger... But they look to be saved through mercy and saved from death, and they call on the wicked to leave, for Jehovah has heard.
The word means something other than the hole in the ground where we bury a body. One translation of the psalm marks this with a footnote.
Sheol is called in Greek Hades, the place or state of departed spirits.
That difference matters. Some have used this verse to argue that the dead stop existing altogether.
This (so misunderstood today) gives the key to those sayings in the Psalms and elsewhere which materialism would twist for its own ends: "For in death there is no remembrance of you; in Sheol [that is, hades — it is not 'the grave'] who will give you praise?"
The verse is not a lecture on the afterlife. It gives God a reason to keep this man alive.
With growing confidence the soul looks to the Lord to return in blessing. He asks the Lord to deliver his soul from going down into death and the grave, so that he may live on the earth for the praise of the Lord.
The Psalms make this plea elsewhere, and Christ Himself takes it up. It rests on something true about God.
Jesus pleads in the Psalms (see also Ps. 6:5, Ps. 30:9, Ps. 115:17) to be delivered from death, on the ground that the dead could not praise God, and the grave could not declare Him. For God is not the God of the dead but of the living... And so Jesus cries for deliverance on this most blessed plea, that God is known not in death but in life.
In God's government of this world, death falls as a cutting off. The psalm stops at that edge and does not look past it.
We see how the government of God applies to this world. In that government, when death falls on someone, it has the character of cutting off. This was fully true for the Jew, as we see in Hezekiah and even in Job. But it is true in a measure for the Christian too... The psalm does not look beyond death, except into darkness, and neither does the government of God.
A godly Israelite set his hope on an earthly scene of praise, and that hope shaped how he saw death.
A godly Israelite's ambition was to swell that great hallelujah chorus, the one the last five psalms give us, in the very scene those psalms look forward to. To celebrate God's praises on earth, to bring up children for the service of His sanctuary, to go up to that temple where the glory of Jehovah dwelt in visible form — for him all of this was tied to every thought of Jehovah's praise... Death would cut that declaration short, and make those praises stop.
Later revelation goes further than this psalm could. Believers today know something the psalmist did not.
Today believers know that even death does not in any way cancel the work of God's grace, but Old Testament believers did not have a clear revelation of this. "In Sheol who will give you praise?" But though the body of the believer may be in the grave, his soul and spirit will be with the Lord, and there he will thank Him without end.
- Distress — the words come from a man who fears God's anger. He looks to be saved through mercy.
- Sheol — the word means the state of departed spirits, not a burial plot. The verse is no proof that the dead cease to exist.
- Plea — it is an argument handed to God, not a doctrine announced: keep me alive and You will keep a voice that praises You.
- Horizon — his whole vision of worship was temple, children and praise on earth. Death would end his part in it, and the psalm looks no further.
- Answer — later revelation gives what the psalm could only reach toward. The body may lie in the grave while the soul is with the Lord, giving thanks without a break.
I am wearied with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I dissolve my couch with my tears.
Psalm 6 is a prayer from the dark, and this verse is its lowest point — a bed soaked through, night after night. Two questions follow: what are these tears, and what does God do with a soul that has cried itself empty?
One writer reads this psalm as a prayer from the middle of the night, and hears in it an argument against death itself.
This is another meditation by night. (See v. 6) But it is of deeper sorrow than the fifth. In a symbolic sense it was midnight, and in it the same person pleads to be delivered from the grave. And He pleads against the power of death on this ground: if death closes the scene, God will be forgotten. For He is not the God of the dead. (See Isa. 38)
Commentators differ on what the weeping means. One traces the pressure back to God's own hand, not to the enemies:
The malice of enemies is at work. Yes — as we may clearly see, it is what God has used to bring the soul where it is. But the soul feels it as His displeasure. When this presses, the anguish of the thought leaves room for nothing else, and the enemies themselves are almost forgotten. It is a cry of repentance and brokenness of heart. For Jehovah's wrath cannot be without cause, any more than without power.
Another hears distress rather than repentance, and reads the wasted eye of the next verse as sight dulled by pain:
Meanwhile the psalmist becomes worn out with his groaning and his bed is drenched with tears. Yet these are not tears of repentance, but those of feeling his deep distress (v. 6). "My eye wastes away because of grief." Of course, this is figurative. His grief weakened his sight — that is, when pain becomes great, we fail to see things as they really are (v. 7).
The soaked couch is not the end of the psalm but the bottom of it. What happens at the bottom is the point:
He lets out freely all his emotion, the grief that convulses him and unmans him. In the realization of it he floods his couch with tears. He fades away, and shrivels in premature decay. But this is the lowest depth, and having reached it and taken it before God, the shadow passes from the soul.
One writer treats this low place not as an accident but as God's route to deliverance.
But there is deeper distress. There is groaning, the couch is covered with tears, the eyes are sunken because of grief. The remnant is put into the place of dust, and that is the place of blessing and deliverance.
By the end of the psalm the circumstances have not moved. Something else has:
The enemies are still around. The circumstances seem to have changed little. The answer is from God in his heart: what now are the enemies? They are only "workers of vanity" — powerless with all their seeming might. His supplication is heard, and his soul confirmed.
One writer takes the psalm further than one man's bad night. He sees Christ enter this sorrow in full sympathy, yet never lie under it as His own.
Into this sorrow too of the righteous man in Israel, pressed by the power of enemies, Christ fully entered. He was willing and obedient to be born into the middle of it, but not in the middle of it. This Psalm is still the condition of the godly man — the Remnant — and Christ enters into it with perfect sympathy. He who sympathises with sorrow does not have the sorrow. He has a nature and a place that make Him able to enter into it.
- Night — a prayer in the dark, deeper in sorrow than the psalm before it, pleading against the grave.
- Tears — writers differ. Some hear repentance under God's displeasure. Others hear sheer distress, not repentance.
- Dust — the flooded couch is the lowest depth, and that low place before God is where blessing and deliverance come.
- Christ — He entered this sorrow in full sympathy, yet did not have it as His own.
- Heard — the enemies remain and nothing outside changes, yet God answers within the heart and settles the soul.
Mine eye wasteth away through grief; it hath grown old because of all mine oppressors.
This verse measures the psalmist's grief in his eyes — worn out by pain and by enemies who never let up. Whose voice is this? And what good can come out of grief this long?
The wasting eye is not a medical report. One writer takes it as a picture of clouded judgment under long pressure. He works from the older wording "grows old" where the ESV has "grows weak."
"My eye wastes away because of grief." Of course, this is figurative. His grief blurred his sight — that is, when pain becomes great, we fail to see things as they really are. The eye becomes old because of enemies. Just as old age weakens the frame, so the constant pressure of his enemies weakened his discernment. The pressure of spiritual enemies will have a similar effect on us if we neglect to put on "the whole armor of God" (Eph. 6:11).
It is easy to read this whole prayer as an apology for sin. One writer sees it differently. The trouble comes from people, and the sufferer's fear is that God will side with them.
It is not a personal confession of sin here. The soul is oppressed by enemies. Looking at Jehovah's anger and displeasure, it cries to Him for deliverance. It asks that the oppression of the wicked may not take on that character. The righteous man is suffering from man, and he pleads against death from the hand of Jehovah. He looks to God to be for him, and not against him in his trouble. It is the cry of distress, not of confession, though it comes from someone who was liable to meet anger and displeasure.
The last words of the verse name the cause. It is not one opponent but a crowd, and the crowd is his own people.
Though submitting to the chastening of the Lord, the soul realizes that the unrepentant mass of the nation is opposed to him as his enemies. To stand alone in the middle of an opposing nation, as Jeremiah did in his day, causes the soul acute anguish.
Others place the same scene in the future, reading the psalm as words prepared for a faithful few in Israel during the last days:
In Psalm 6 it is not the iniquities but the grief and prostration of spirit — and that in the presence of these same enemies — which bring the weeping souls of the remnant to the gates of death… here they are encouraged by the comforting testimony for their hearts in that day: "Jehovah has heard."
Commentators differ here. One takes this verse as a direct window into the daily wearing sorrow of Jesus:
We must call to mind a little more clearly the circumstances out of which these tearful prayers were sent up to God. We get a glimpse of them in the seventh verse… The daily contradiction of sinners against Himself was only a part of the patience of the Son of God. He stood as a target for the reproach of the ungodly day by day. This was because, in perfect obedience, He bore continual testimony as man to the God whom they outwardly claimed to know… So He was hated in return for His love. He walked, in His devoted obedience to the Father's will, in a path where no human company was possible.
Another writer draws a line. He hears the psalm as the voice of the remnant — the godly few in Israel — and says the sorrow is not Christ's own, though He can come right inside it.
In Psalm 6 the remnant, the godly man pressed by the wicked, pleads with God that His anger, due to the people, should not rest on him. … Christ fully entered into this sorrow of the righteous man in Israel, pressed by the power of enemies. … He who sympathises with sorrow does not have the sorrow. But He has a nature and a place in which He is able to enter into it.
The psalmist holds nothing back. One writer traces where that brings him.
He lets out all his emotion freely — the grief that shakes him and robs him of his courage. Feeling it, he floods his couch with tears. He fades away, and shrivels in premature decay. But this is the lowest depth, and having reached it and taken it before God, the shadow passes from the soul.
Nothing outside has changed by the end of the psalm. The change is inside him.
The enemies are still around, so circumstances seem hardly altered. The answer comes from God in his heart: what are the enemies now? They are only "workers of vanity" — powerless for all their apparent might. His prayer is heard, and his soul is steadied.
- Grief — The wasting eye pictures a man whose pain and enemies have blurred his view of things.
- Guilt? — The cry is distress, not confession. His fear is not only the enemies but that God might be against him.
- Alone — The opposition is a whole nation, and standing alone in it makes the anguish sharp.
- Sympathy — Christ fully entered this sorrow. Commentators differ on whether the verse is His own voice or a grief He shares.
- Turn — This is the lowest depth of the psalm. Bring that depth to God and the shadow lifts, with the enemies still standing there.
Depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity; for Jehovah hath heard the voice of my weeping.
Up to this point Psalm 6 is nothing but tears, weakness and grief. Then the sufferer turns from God to the people pressing on him and tells them to go — not because he has grown strong, but because God has heard him.
The last three verses mark a change. One writer sets out where the sufferer has arrived by the time he speaks:
(vv. 8-10) Through these exercises the soul comes to know the personal favour of the Lord. He realizes that the Lord has not forgotten his tears, that He has heard his pleas, and that He has received his prayer. But he also foresees that this will mean shame and defeat for his enemies.
The tears behind this verse are not ordinary tears. One commentator names what makes this psalm different. It speaks to anyone whose trouble grew out of their own fault:
When a believing soul is under trial, turning to God as its resource and hope is the natural movement of faith... But there is another case. The trial is still healthy and gracious, yet it holds something that makes trusting love toward God harder. I mean when the trial comes from the conduct of the person suffering. If I have brought trial on myself by sin, how hard it is to see love in it! How hard not to groan, knowing that it is the fruit of sin and a deserved rebuke, and that we therefore have no right to think of love in it! Yet where can we turn but to Him? And how can we ask Him to deliver us, when He is the One we have offended?
The same writer does not leave the sufferer there:
Faith holds back this despairing feeling, but it does not take away the sense of sin, or of how just the rebuke is. It trusts God and His love and goodness, which now take the character of mercy toward the spirit of the sufferer. The sense of sin is deeper, the dread of what may follow is less, and the humbled heart trusts God in spite of everything.
The order matters. This man does not start by defying his enemies. He first submits to God, and only then tells them to go:
At last David grasps something of the truth of James 4:7, which tells us, "Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." His anguish has led him to submit, so he can tell his enemies to depart. The psalm ends in the confidence that God has heard his prayer and that all his enemies are put to flight. They are not only defeated; they are put to shame suddenly — as suddenly as the Lord Jesus will appear in glory.
Nothing outward has yet altered when he says the LORD has heard him. Commentators read this as faith reaching its verdict ahead of sight, and reaching past the psalmist's own lifetime:
Faith again is victorious. The Lord has heard the voice of my weeping; heard the voice of my supplication; He will receive my prayer. The last verse is prophetic. All the enemies will be ashamed, they shall be suddenly ashamed. That will be when the Lord returns to save His people.
One writer reads the psalm as the cry of a faithful few in Israel under pressure. He then shows how Christ enters that sorrow without having it as His own:
In Psalm 6 the faithful remnant, the godly man, is pressed by the wicked. He pleads with God that His anger, which the people deserve, should not rest on him. Surrounded by enemies, he knows what the people deserve, and he sees God's anger as bringing him down to death — and then the wicked would triumph. But the Lord hears him and delivers him from his enemies. Christ fully entered this sorrow of the righteous man in Israel, pressed by the power of enemies... This Psalm is still the condition of the godly man, and Christ enters into it with perfect sympathy. The One who sympathises with sorrow does not have the sorrow Himself, but He has a nature and a place that make Him able to enter into it.
Writers differ on how much guilt the sufferer owns here. One reads the psalm as a soul bowing under deserved discipline. Another says these words are something else:
This is not a personal confession of sin. The soul is oppressed by enemies. Looking at the LORD's anger and displeasure, it cries to Him for deliverance, so that the oppression of the wicked may not take that character... It is the cry of distress, not of confession — though it comes from one who might well meet with anger and displeasure.
- Tears — the weeping is real. Its source may be the sufferer's own conduct, and that is what makes love so hard to see in the trial.
- Turn — anguish drives the soul to submit to God. Only then can it tell the workers of evil to leave.
- Heard — he sends them away on new certainty, not new strength. The Lord has noticed his tears and received his prayer.
- Sympathy — Christ fully entered this pressure and sorrow, so no one cries it alone.
- Shame — what faith says now will be plain to all when the Lord Jesus appears in glory and puts every enemy to shame.
Jehovah hath heard my supplication; Jehovah receiveth my prayer.
Psalm 6 is the prayer of a man worn out with weeping. He fears that God is against him and that death is near. Verse 9 changes everything. Nothing outside him has changed, yet he speaks as if the matter is settled.
The last three verses turn away from everything before them. One writer sees them as the place the earlier struggle was heading:
(vv. 8-10) Through these exercises of soul he comes to know the Lord's personal favour. He realizes that the Lord has not forgotten his tears, has heard his pleas, and has received his prayer. But he also foresees that this will bring shame and defeat on his enemies.
One writer points out that the psalm never names a sin. The trouble comes from people. The fear is that God Himself is against the man praying:
This is not a personal confession of sin. The soul is oppressed by enemies. Looking at Jehovah's anger and displeasure, he cries to Him for deliverance, so that the oppression of the wicked may not take on that character. The righteous man is suffering from man, and he pleads against death from the hand of Jehovah. He looks to God to be for him, and not against him in his trouble. It is the cry of distress, not of confession — though it comes from a place where one might well meet anger and displeasure.
Verse 9 answers that exact fear. God is for the one who cried.
The psalm never claims that the man deserves rescue. He looks to be saved through mercy, and he tells the wicked to leave only because God has heard:
They are oppressed and their soul is troubled. Extreme distress presses on their spirit. Their conscience is not yet cleared, and so they fear that Jehovah might be against them in anger... But they look to be saved through mercy, saved from death. They call on the wicked to depart, because Jehovah has heard.
The confidence of verse 9 follows a surrender. One writer links it to a promise in James about enemies fleeing:
At last David realizes in some measure the truth of James 4:7: "Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." His anguish has led to submission, so he can tell his enemies to leave (v. 8). The psalm ends with the confidence that God has heard his prayer and that every enemy will flee. They will not only be defeated; they will be put to shame in a moment — as suddenly as the Lord Jesus will appear in glory.
The ESV says the LORD accepts my prayer. Older translations read that line as a future: He will receive my prayer. The writer below uses the older wording, and sees faith already victorious before anything outward changes:
Faith is victorious again. The Lord has heard the sound of my weeping; He has heard my plea; He will receive my prayer. The last verse is prophetic. All the enemies will be ashamed, they shall be suddenly ashamed. That will be when the Lord returns to save His people.
This prayer was made at night. One writer sets it beside another night cry that met silence:
Our Lord went through the night, as Psalm 22 reads in older translations: "I cry... in the night, and am not silent" (v. 2). Here the psalmist cried in the night, and it seems that he was heard. Messiah cried in the night and was not heard. Why was this? Because He was there bearing that heavy load of sin as a sacrifice, to establish the will of God, and for the blessing of all those who trust in Him.
- Cry. The prayer of Psalm 6 is distress, not confession — a man asking God to be for him rather than against him.
- Mercy. He looks to be saved through mercy. The psalm never argues that he deserves rescue from death.
- Heard. The turning point comes when the soul knows God's personal favour. His tears were not forgotten.
- Confidence. Anguish ended in submission. Submission freed him to send his enemies away instead of fearing them.
- Christ. The psalmist cried in the night and was heard. Messiah cried in the night and was not heard, because He was bearing sin for the blessing of all who trust in Him.
All mine enemies shall be ashamed and tremble exceedingly; they will turn, they will be ashamed suddenly.
Psalm 6 begins in tears and ends in confidence. The last verse is the turn: the enemies who wore the psalmist down will themselves turn back in shame. Why has nothing outside him changed, and yet everything has?
The enemies have not gone anywhere. What shifted was inside the man praying.
In the last part of the psalm we find this. The enemies are still around, so circumstances seem hardly altered. The answer has come from God into his heart. What are the enemies now? They are only "workers of vanity" — powerless for all their apparent strength. God has heard his plea, and his soul is steady. He can then be sure of the defeat of his enemies, and of their final confusion.
The pressure in this psalm is not from strangers abroad. It comes from his own people, and that is what makes it so painful.
Though he submits to the chastening of the Lord, the soul realises that most of the nation has not repented and stands against him as an enemy. To stand alone in the middle of a hostile nation, as Jeremiah did in his day, brings the soul deep anguish.
Verse 10 is not a separate prayer tacked on the end. The trouble came through hostile hands, so God hearing the cry and judging them are one thing.
So in Psalm 6 it is not the sins, but the grief and the crushing of spirit — and that in front of these same enemies — which bring the weeping souls of the remnant to the gates of death... Here they are encouraged by the comforting testimony for their hearts in that day: "Jehovah has heard." But the cry is here because of "all my enemies," and yet the hand of God is looked to in it. This is not chastening on man at a distance. It is a cry that is acceptable, and heard because the Spirit of Christ is in it, and heard in the judgment of their enemies: note this.
The force of the verse lies in how fast it happens. One writer reads this last verse as prophecy, pointing past David's own day.
Faith is victorious again. The Lord has heard the voice of my weeping; heard the voice of my supplication; He will receive my prayer. The last verse is prophetic. All the enemies will be ashamed, they shall be suddenly ashamed. That will be when the Lord returns to save His people.
The change comes only after David submits to God.
At last David grasps something of the truth of James 4:7, which tells us, "Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." His anguish has led to submission. So he can tell his enemies to depart (v. 8). The psalm ends with the confidence that God has heard his prayer, and that all his enemies are put to flight. They are not only defeated, but put to shame suddenly — as suddenly as the Lord Jesus will appear in glory.
Renderings differ. Some read the verse as a request; one translation gives it as plain future fact, and also sharpens the words — the enemies get the very terror the psalmist described in his own bones earlier in the psalm.
All my enemies shall be greatly ashamed and terrified; they shall turn back, they shall be ashamed suddenly.
This is where readers today stumble. One writer meets the question head on, and lists Psalm 6:10 among the verses a Christian cannot simply take onto his own lips.
But the Christian is taught, by example and by command, to pray for his enemies and to return good for evil. How then can he use language like Psalm 55:15? ... Passages appear all through the Psalms that are wholly unsuitable on the lips of a Christian, though they fit the age they have in view. Here are a few examples: Ps. 2:9; Ps. 3:7; Ps. 6:10...
What stays fully ours is the movement of the psalm itself: sorrow carried to God, and God hearing it.
- Trial to judgment. The psalm opens under God's chastening and closes with the enemy overthrown. Trial at the start, judgment at the end.
- Heard first. Verse 10 is spoken while the enemies are still standing there. Assurance came into the heart before any change came into the circumstances.
- Shame, not just defeat. The enemies do not simply lose ground. They turn back in shame, and God judges them.
- Suddenly. The reversal is instant, and commentators tie that speed to the moment the Lord appears to save His people.
- Read, not prayed. Christians are taught to pray for their enemies. So this closing verse is one to leave with God, not to pray against anyone. The weeping, the pleading and the confidence that God has heard belong to every age.
(Shiggaion of David, which he sang to Jehovah, concerning the words of Cush the Benjaminite.) Jehovah my God, in thee have I trusted save me from all my pursuers, and deliver me;
David names the One he trusts before he names his trouble. So why does a hunted man start with shelter — and who was Cush, whose words caused this psalm?
The heading carries two unusual words: Shiggaion and Cush. One writer explains the first, then reads the second as a puzzle:
The word Shiggaion is said to mean a "wandering ode." Perhaps it was a loud hymn, in which enthusiasm carries the writer away. That would not be out of keeping with the character of this psalm. History tells us nothing about Cush. That agrees with the wording "a Benjamite," not "the Benjamite," which would mean some noted person. On the other hand, Cush, "the black" or sun-burnt, may be a symbolic name, a riddle to read through; and in any case we must take it so.
Commentators differ on Cush. Another writer traces the tribe instead, and that also shows something about David's own conduct:
We have no account of the work of Cush. But we know King Saul was a Benjamite, and the psalm sounds as though it refers to David's suffering when Saul hunted him. It is good, however, that David never speaks directly against Saul, either in his history or in his psalms. He was careful to give honour to God's anointed king.
Trust comes before the asking. That order is the point of the opening line:
In the first division of the psalm, faith takes refuge in God from man. It shelters itself as in a rock in the unchangeableness of its covenant-God. All through the last psalm that same unchangeableness might seem to be against it, yet Jehovah was the name faith clung to and pleaded. Now it rests in its shelter in the Abiding One. Will He cast off this soul that trusts Him? No; "the name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe."
David asks to be saved from his pursuers. One writer sums up the psalm's opening verses, where the enemy appears as a lion:
The confidence of the soul in God when persecuted by an enemy who, blinded by hatred, acts in violence, without mercy and without reason, like a lion.
Set beside the psalm before it, this one has a different source of pain. There the trouble came from God's own hand; here it comes from a man outside:
Psalm 6 gives the sense of having deserved rebuke and blame, when one looks at Jehovah for oneself. It looks for rescue from what weighs on it. Psalm 7 looks for rescue from the outward persecutor, on whom judgment will come.
That difference decides what the sufferer can appeal to. It also marks how far a Christian can pray these words:
In Psalm 6 there is the recognition of God's chastisement, and therefore the appeal to the mercy of God. In this psalm it is suffering for well-doing, and so the appeal is to the righteousness of God… Christ alone suffered for well-doing in perfection — "He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly" (1 Peter 2:22-23). The Christian is called to suffer for well-doing… So in like circumstances the Christian can take up the confidence this psalm expresses, without using the call for judgment on his enemies (1 Peter 4:19).
The pattern holds for any trial:
Such was his cry and such his confidence. So whatever the trial, the resource of the saint in each case is God. He speaks to God, who is not and will not be indifferent to the sorrows and trials of His people. What a comfort to be able to speak to God!
- Refuge — Faith takes shelter in God before it asks Him for anything. Its rock is the unchangeableness of its covenant-God.
- Pursuit — The enemy is like a lion: blinded by hatred, acting without mercy and without reason.
- Innocence — Psalm 6 answers deserved rebuke. Here the pain comes from outside, so the appeal is to God's righteousness, not His mercy.
- Restraint — David never speaks against Saul, in his history or in his psalms, because he honoured God's anointed king.
- Comfort — Whatever the trial, the resource is God Himself. He is never indifferent to the sorrows of His people. The Christian may take up this confidence, but leaves out the call for judgment.
Lest he tear my soul like a lion, crushing it while there is no deliverer.
David prays here as a hunted man, and the picture he reaches for is not an army but a beast — a lion. Two questions sit under the words: who is this enemy, and why is there no one to rescue?
The psalm's heading names Cush, a Benjamite. One writer weighs that name and the title's other odd word, "Shiggaion."
The word Shiggaion is said to mean a "wandering ode" — perhaps a loud, enthusiastic hymn, one where the writer's own feeling carries him away. Of Cush we know nothing historically. On the other hand, Cush, meaning "black" or sun-burnt, may be a symbolic name, a riddle to be read through. The Benjamite held power in those days of David that the psalm belongs to, so at least that much connects Cush with the unhappy Saul. In days to come a darker power will have arisen in Israel, whose words will be against both God and His people alike.
Commentators differ on who he was:
A Benjamite enemy of David. Psalm 7 title. Some think the name points to Shimei, as the margin at 2 Samuel 16:5 suggests. Others think it is Saul.
The lion stands for more than strength. A lion does not bargain, and it does not pity.
The confidence of the soul in God when persecuted by an enemy that, blinded by hatred, acts in violence, without mercy and reason, like a lion.
The closing phrase is the darkest part of the verse. One writer answers it by naming the only one who can reach into that place:
Outside, the "lion" lies in wait, and there is "none to deliver." Only the LORD can deliver from those cruel and pitiless jaws; and surely the experience will be repeated: "For you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked."
In the older translation this writer used, that last line reads as something God has already done — and so, he says, will happen again.
David then turns to his own conduct. He claims more than having done no wrong.
Here the soul knows its own integrity. More than that, it knows it went beyond what righteousness required, showing kindness to those who were his enemies without cause.
The same restraint marks what David said about Saul:
It is good that David never speaks directly against Saul, either in his history or in his psalms. He was careful to give honour to God's anointed king.
One writer hears more here than one man's escape. He reads the opening verses as the prayer of Christ:
Verses 1–5 seem to express a personal prayer of the Messiah to the LORD, against the violent and deceitful man. The life of Jesus was ever in His hand. His persecutors were on every side. They watched for His words; they sought to take Him; they took up stones to throw at Him... Jesus is Himself the Truth and the Light of life. His presence scattered the darkness of Satan's counsel and the emptiness of human teaching, and laid men's consciences open in the sight of God. But this is what ruined nature dreads most and resents most. So the closing testimony of Him who went about doing good was, "they have seen and hated both me and my Father."
Another writer sets this psalm beside the two before it, and marks what each one asks for:
Psalm 5 rests on what the righteous man senses of the character of God. That character must stand against the wicked, and must own the man who cries to Him in righteousness. Psalm 6 gives the sense of having deserved rebuke and blame, when a man looks at the LORD in relation to himself. Psalm 7 looks to being saved from the outward persecutor, on whom judgment will come.
- Occasion — Words spoken against David by Cush, a Benjamite, gave rise to this psalm. Writers link Cush with Saul; some suggest Shimei.
- Enemy — The lion pictures a persecutor blinded by hatred, acting in violence with no mercy and no reason.
- Emptiness — "None to deliver" is the plain truth: no human help stands between the psalmist and those jaws.
- Rescuer — Only the LORD can reach into that place, and He breaks the teeth of the wicked.
- Reach — The same cry belongs to Christ, hated by men along with His Father. It belongs to God's people too, still asking to be saved from a persecutor whom judgment will meet.
Jehovah my God, if I have done this, if there be iniquity in my hands;
David's cry here is a formal appeal to God as judge. He names the charge, and he offers to accept the sentence if it proves true. Behind it lies a hunted man and a false charge. What do you do when an accusation is untrue and you cannot prove it?
The psalm's heading ties the song to a man named Cush. One writer gives the title and the question it leaves open:
"Shiggayon of David which he sang to Jehovah because of the words of Cush, the Benjamite" is the title. It is a song from a time of wandering. Whether Cush means Saul or Shimei can be questioned.
What is "this"? One writer points to the charge Saul spread among his men:
In Psalm 6 he realized that God was dealing with him through enemies because of his own poor condition. But in Psalm 7 the persecution has no cause. Saul persecuted David for no fault of David's; only Saul's hatred was to blame. Saul had said to his servants, "There is not one of you who is sorry for me or reveals to me that my son has stirred up my servant against me, to lie in wait, as it is this day" (1 Sam. 22:8). But this was a lie. David was not lying in wait for Saul. He was hiding from Saul, who wanted to kill him.
The "if" is not for show. David is ready to take the punishment if the charge is true:
David would not refuse any just punishment for evil, if he was guilty of it, and would gladly appeal to God as the Judge of the matter.
Another writer puts the same logic the other way round: the plea only works because the suffering is undeserved.
He knows it is unjust persecution he is suffering. If he had done evil to others he might well be treated in this way.
The claim is limited. David does not say he is sinless. He says this enemy has nothing to charge against him:
Then comes his declaration of innocence as far as these enemies are concerned. That matters enormously in view of the government of God. "With the measure you use it will be measured to you" is still true under the reign of grace itself... Happy, then, are those who can plead what the psalmist pleads here: the enemy's malice is completely unprovoked. As far as he is concerned, there are no debts to settle. He can say more than this. David's conduct toward Saul clearly supplies the words here — he can say, "I have delivered the one who oppressed me without cause." He then seals this with a solemn appeal to Him who knows the truth: let the enemy have his way with him if this is not so.
One writer defines the righteousness David is pleading here:
In Psalm 7 the righteous man calls for judgment on the ground of his righteousness. That righteousness is integrity and grace, not self-righteousness, and it has to do with God's government. Such righteousness does exist.
Can a Christian pray like this? One writer reads on to David's plea to be judged by his own integrity, and stops to ask that question:
Wrongly accused, he turns to God, who is His people's resource at all times. If he had wronged others, he might well deserve punishment... "Judge me, O Jehovah, according to my righteousness, and according to my integrity that is in me." (What Christian could ask this?)... So whatever the trial, the believer's resource in every case is God. He speaks to God, who is not and will not be indifferent to the sorrows and trials of His people. What a comfort to be able to speak to God!
- Occasion. The psalm is a song from David's wandering, prompted by the words of Cush the Benjamite. Commentators question whether Cush means Saul or Shimei.
- Charge. "This" answers one specific lie: that David was lying in wait for Saul. In truth he was hiding, not hunting.
- Offer. David does not just deny the charge. He accepts punishment if he is guilty, and asks God to judge the matter.
- Ground. His claim is innocence toward these enemies, not sinlessness. They have no unpaid debt against him, and his sparing of Saul proves it.
- Source. The righteousness he pleads is integrity produced by grace under God's government, never self-righteousness. Whatever the trial, his resource is God, and he can speak to Him.
If I have rewarded evil to him that was at peace with me; (indeed I have freed him that without cause oppressed me;)
David is on trial in this verse — not before a court, but before God, and he is the one who calls for the examination. The verse raises the hardest question a hunted person can ask: can I say I gave my enemy no reason for this?
One commentator sets this psalm beside the one before it, and points to the lie behind the attack.
In Psalm 6 he realized that God was dealing with him through enemies because of his own poor condition. In Psalm 7 the persecution has no cause. Saul persecuted David not because of any fault in David, but only because of Saul's own hatred. Saul had said to his servants, "None of you is sorry for me. None of you tells me that my son has stirred up my servant against me, to lie in wait, as at this day" (1 Sam. 22:8). But this was a lie. David was not lying in wait for Saul. He was hiding from Saul, who wanted to kill him.
Another writer notes what David does with a false charge. He takes it to God instead of answering his accuser.
Falsely accused, he turns to God, the resource for His people at all times. If he had wronged others, he might well deserve punishment... So whatever the trial, the believer's resource is God. He speaks to Him, and God is not and will not be indifferent to the sorrows and trials of His people. What a comfort to be able to speak to God!
David does not dodge judgment. If he were guilty of the evil charged against him, he would take what he deserved.
He would not refuse any just punishment for evil, if he was guilty of it, and was glad to appeal to God as the Judge of the matter. How many of God's faithful servants have suffered unjust treatment from wicked men, and how many have even died as martyrs!
Commentators differ on how the second half of the verse reads. The ESV has David denying that he "plundered my enemy without cause." An older translation reads it as a positive claim: David set free the man who oppressed him. On that reading, one writer points to the event behind the words.
Happy are those, then, who can plead what the psalmist pleads here: that the enemy's malice is completely unprovoked. As far as he is concerned, he owes the enemy nothing. He can say more than this. David's conduct toward Saul is plainly what supplies the words here — he can say, "I set free the man who oppressed me without cause." He then seals this with a solemn appeal to Him who knows the truth: if it is not so, let the enemy have his way with him, tread his life down to the earth, and lay his glory in the dust.
In the cave, Saul fell into David's hands and walked out alive. David made the same claim to Saul's face.
"Today your own eyes have seen how the LORD gave you into my hand in the cave. Some told me to kill you, but I spared you. I said, I will not raise my hand against my lord, for he is the LORD's anointed... So know and see that there is no evil or wrongdoing in my hand. I have not sinned against you, yet you hunt me down to take my life."
A claim like this can sound like boasting. One writer marks off what David is claiming and what he is not.
In Psalm 7 the righteous man calls for judgment on the ground of his righteousness. That righteousness is integrity and grace, not self-righteousness. It is righteousness in respect of God's government, and such righteousness does exist.
The psalm's title names Cush, a Benjamite. One writer finds no trace of him in history and looks beyond Saul.
History tells us nothing about Cush... On the other hand, Cush, which means "black" or "sun-burnt," may be a symbolic name, a riddle to be read through... In days to come a darker power will have arisen in Israel, whose "words" will be against both God and His people. This "wicked one" will be consumed by the breath of the Lord's mouth and destroyed by the appearing of His presence (2 Thess. 2).
- Words — Saul claimed David lay in wait for him. In truth David was hiding from a king who wanted him dead.
- Witness — David does not argue with his accuser. He takes the charge to God, the resource of His people in every trial.
- Willingness — he asks for no exemption. If the charge is true, let the enemy hunt him down and lay his glory in the dust.
- Warrant — his plea rests on a real record. Saul lay in his power in the cave and walked away unharmed.
- Weight — he claims integrity under God's government, not self-righteousness. His cry reaches past Saul to a darker oppressor whom the Lord will destroy.
Let the enemy pursue after my soul, and take [it], and let him tread down my life to the earth, and lay my glory in the dust. Selah.
These words come from a man under attack. They are the sharpest part of an oath: David asks God to let his enemy win — if the charges against him are true. Two questions follow. What was he accused of, and can anyone pray this way?
David is not surrendering. He is inviting God to act as judge, and he accepts the verdict in advance whichever way it falls.
He would not refuse any just punishment for evil, if he was guilty of it. He would gladly appeal to God as the Judge of the matter. Indeed, how many of God's faithful servants have suffered unjustly at the hands of wicked men, and how many even suffer martyrdom!
The charge against David was false. One writer points to Saul's own words as its source.
In Psalm 6 he realized that God was dealing with him by means of enemies because of his own poor condition. But in Psalm 7 the persecution is without cause. Saul persecuted David for no fault on David's part; only Saul's hatred was to blame. Saul had said to his servants, "There is not one of you who is sorry for me or reveals to me that my son has stirred up my servant against me, to lie in wait, as it is this day" (1 Sam. 22:8). But this was a lie. David was not lying in wait for Saul; he was hiding from Saul, who wanted to kill him.
The oath is not bravado. David could point to a record: he had spared the man who hunted him.
Happy are those, then, who can plead what the psalmist pleads here: that this malice of the enemy is completely unprovoked. As far as he is concerned, there is nothing owing, nothing to make up for. And he can say more than this. David's conduct toward Saul is clearly what lies behind the words here — he can say, "I have rescued the man who oppressed me without cause." He then seals it with a solemn appeal to Him who knows the truth: if this is not so, let the enemy have his way with him — tread his life down to the earth, and lay his glory in the dust.
(That line about rescuing reflects an older translation of verse 4.) The same writer places this under God's government of His own people. He cites 1 Peter 1:17–19: "if you call on the Father, who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed... with the precious blood of Christ." Redemption does not remove God's people from this rule: the measure you use will be measured back to you.
One writer reads the opening of the psalm as the prayer of Christ Himself. He alone could make this claim with nothing held back.
Verses 1-5 seem to express a personal prayer of Messiah to Jehovah, against the violent and deceitful man. The life of Jesus was ever in His hand. His persecutors were on every side. They watched for His words; they sought to take Him; they took up stones to cast at Him... In these verses, and in those that follow, the Holy One willingly and perfectly lays open His spotless heart and conscience before God.
Writers here are cautious. One of them weighs how far we should press our own integrity with God.
It is true that God honors the integrity that honestly honors Him... though generally it is wiser for us to appeal simply to the pure grace of God rather than base our appeals on our integrity. If we have not been guilty of evil and are accused of it, we naturally desire to be vindicated. Yet even the Lord Jesus was not publicly vindicated while He was on earth, though His resurrection was a perfect vindication from God.
- Accused — David is hunted over a charge that was simply untrue. Saul's own words started the lie.
- Oath — he does not just deny the charge. He invites the full penalty on himself if the charge is true.
- Proof — the oath rests on a record: he had spared Saul when he could have killed him, so there are no debts to settle.
- Christ — the same words rise higher in One whose heart and conscience were spotless. God vindicated Him in resurrection, not in His lifetime.
- Pause — before we borrow David's oath, most of us will do better to plead God's grace than our own integrity.
Arise, Jehovah, in thine anger; lift thyself up against the raging of mine oppressors, and awake for me thou hast commanded judgment.
David has just declared that he is innocent toward his enemies. Now he turns to God. He asks Him to rise up and act, and to carry out a judgment God Himself has already ordered.
The appeal rests on what comes just before it. One writer ties the plea to God's government, and to how David had treated Saul:
Then comes his declaration of innocence toward these enemies. That matters enormously, given the way God governs the world. "With the measure you use it will be measured to you" is still true under the reign of grace itself, and it was the lips of perfect grace that said it. … Happy, then, are those who can plead what the psalmist pleads here: nothing provoked the enemy's malice. As far as he is concerned, there are no debts to settle. In fact, he can say more than this. We can see David's conduct toward Saul behind the words here — he can say, "I have delivered him who without cause oppressed me."
He does not ask God to invent a verdict, but to carry out one already ordered:
(vv. 6-7) Basing his appeal on the knowledge that God has commanded judgment for the wicked, the soul pleads that the time is ripe for God to act against the raging of His enemies, and for the sake of God's persecuted people. As a result Jehovah would dwell among a praising people.
The words ask God to take His throne and judge in the open. The same writer describes the scene, and the form the answer takes:
Now he breaks out in an eager prayer for Jehovah to come in. He asks Him to set up His throne in judgment, gather the nations round Him, and in that great assembly judge his cause openly and do him right. In fact, this is what will happen at the close of the period the psalm looks forward to. But the judgment will not be a courtroom session. It will be an outbreak of divine wrath, like the flash of the storm that the Lord Himself uses as a picture of His coming. (Matt. 24:27.)
The psalm reaches past David's own crisis. One hunted man's cry becomes the voice of the faithful few left among God's people, and the answer reaches the nations:
Psalm 7 appeals to Jehovah on the ground that the godly have dealt righteously, and more than righteously, with their enemies. It asks that Jehovah may arise and awake to the judgment He has commanded. In this way, by delivering the remnant through judgment, the assembly of the various nations of the earth would gather around Him. He would then judge the peoples, which brings out the future judgment.
The claim in this verse is just. Yet Christ, who had every right to make it, did not:
So in Psalm 7 Christ pleads among the people in His righteousness. He calls on Jehovah to awake to the judgment He has commanded, and to lift Himself up in anger against the rage of His enemies. Christ, as He was, did not do this and could not. He did the opposite, for higher and more glorious reasons, and the Church cannot do it now either. … Yet the Spirit of Christ knew full well His right to this righteous vengeance. But He had a higher work to do. He could have asked His Father and received twelve legions of angels. But the scriptures had to be fulfilled. … He had come to save men's lives, not to destroy them; and He prayed for His ignorant enemies.
Some have tried to soften prayers like this. They turn the commands into predictions: "they shall be confounded" instead of "let them be confounded." One writer answers the man who proposed that change:
He has to admit that the New Testament keeps the command form, instead of changing it into the future. … But the criticism is as bad as the doctrine. The wording stands the same in Hebrew as in English, and in every other language. It is the difference in divine dealing which clears it all up without violence. When God is judging enemies as He did of old and will again, His people share in it in measure. Now He is displaying sovereign grace, and another spirit of action suits them.
- Cause. The prayer follows a protest of innocence. Nothing provoked the hatred against him, and his own restraint toward Saul makes the plea honest.
- Commanded. He does not ask God to decide, but to act. The judgment is already ordered, and he pleads that the time has come.
- Arising. God's answer is not a quiet courtroom session. It is a sudden outbreak, like the flash of a storm, as He sets up His throne in the open.
- Reach. The deliverance of the few draws in the many; the nations end up gathered around the God who judged for His people.
- Restraint. Christ knew His right to this vengeance and refused it, praying for His enemies instead. The psalm stands unchanged, but a different spirit suits those living under grace.
And the assembly of the peoples shall encompass thee; and for their sakes return thou on high.
The verse sits inside a prayer for God to rise and act on the judgment He has commanded. Why does it end with God going back up on high, instead of staying with the people He rescues?
The gathering described here is not a separate scene. It is what the requested judgment produces.
Psalm 7 appeals to Jehovah. Its ground is the righteous, more than righteous, way the godly have dealt with their enemies. It asks that Jehovah may arise and awake to the judgment He has commanded. In this way, by delivering the remnant through judgment, the assembly of the various nations of the earth would gather around Him. He would then judge the peoples, and so bring out the future judgment plainly.
The remnant means the faithful few in Israel who hold to God when most have turned away.
One writer hears the prayer as a call for a public trial, then corrects the picture of how it will happen.
Now he breaks out in an eager prayer. He asks Jehovah to come in, to set up His throne in judgment, and to gather the nations around Him. There, in that great assembly, he asks Him to judge his cause in the open and give him justice. In fact, this is what will take place at the close of the period the psalm looks ahead to. But the judgment will not be a formal court session. It will be a burst of divine wrath, like the flash of a storm — the picture the Lord Himself uses for His coming. (Matt. 24:27.)
The second half of the verse asks God to go back up. Commentators read this as God resuming His throne.
He is clear of every charge the enemy could bring against him. So he cries, "Arise, O Jehovah, in Your anger; lift Yourself up against the fury of my enemies; awake for me to the judgment You have commanded. Then the assembly of the peoples will gather around You. For their sakes, return on high" — that is, take Your place again on Your heavenly throne.
The phrase "for their sakes" makes the ascent a benefit to the very people gathered below. One writer links this to something Jesus told His disciples before He left them.
But when the Lord does arise and come to His people, the assembly of the people will surround Him in worship and adoration. He will not remain on the earth. That is why the psalm says, "For their sakes, therefore, return on high" (v. 7). The Lord Jesus went up to heaven after His resurrection, just as He had told His disciples beforehand: "I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away" (John 16:7). In the same way, it will be to Israel's advantage that He returns on high and governs from that place of perfect truth.
The assembly is not just a crowd watching a trial. The judgment changes what God has around Him.
(vv. 6-7) He appeals on the ground that God has commanded judgment for the wicked. So the soul pleads that the time is ripe for God to act against the raging of His enemies, and to act for the sake of His persecuted people. As a result Jehovah would dwell in the midst of a praising people.
Some read the psalm as the voice of the Messiah, called Immanuel below, and hear a shift at this point from His own case to the case of His people.
In verses 6, 7, and 9, the personal voice of the Messiah is less clearly marked than in the verses before. These verses seem instead to express the desires of His Spirit for the suffering people of Immanuel. Their final blessing can only come when Jehovah rises up and shakes the earth with terrible power. Messiah is now at the right hand of God, waiting until His enemies are made a footstool for His feet (Heb. 10:13). No truth is more important than this for understanding the Psalms correctly… Verse 7 declares the result of that judgment: the whole world's submission to Jehovah and His Christ.
The psalm asks God to act against enemies. One writer is careful about how a Christian uses it.
At the present time this is not our prayer. As long as the day of grace lasts, we should pray for our enemies.
- Cry. The verse begins in a plea for God to rise and carry out the judgment He has already commanded.
- Gathering. That judgment gathers the nations around Him, and the whole world submits to Jehovah and His Christ.
- Ascent. "Return on high" asks God to take His heavenly throne again, and the psalm says it is for their sakes.
- Praise. The end is not just silenced enemies. It is Jehovah living among a people who praise Him.
- Restraint. While the day of grace lasts, the call for judgment is not the Christian's prayer; we pray for our enemies instead.
Jehovah shall minister judgment to the peoples. Judge me, Jehovah, according to my righteousness, and according to mine integrity which is in me.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Oh let the wrong of the wicked come to an end, and establish thou the righteous [man]; even thou that triest the hearts and reins, the righteous God.
Psalm 7 is the cry of a man falsely accused. In verse 9 his plea widens from his own case to the whole world: let evil stop, let the righteous stand — before a God who tests the inner person.
Slander is the trouble behind the psalm. One writer follows David's response, and shows what it offers anyone under false accusation:
A third trial is slander (Ps. 7:3-5). Falsely accused, he turns to God, the resource of His people at all times. If he had wronged others, he might well deserve punishment. But he is clear of any charge the enemy could bring against him, and so he cries out… So whatever the trial, the believer's resource in every case is God. He speaks to God, and God is not and will not be indifferent to the sorrows and trials of His people. What a comfort to be able to speak to God!
Where the ESV reads "you who test the minds and hearts," older translations say "the hearts and the reins." The word "reins" is not about control. It names a body part, and it points somewhere deeper:
The kidneys, used as a picture of the inward thoughts and feelings. Ps. 7:9; Ps. 139:13; Jer. 17:10; Rev. 2:23.
Another writer narrows the word to "his inmost thoughts." He also shows why David dares to ask for such a test:
First comes the plea of integrity, which goes with faith and is its fruit as well. Sure that this is truly his condition, he can appeal to God to test him: to make proof of his reins (his inmost thoughts) and his heart.
The two halves of the verse belong together. God does not just stop evil from the outside. The reign of righteousness He sets up matches what He is:
The judgment of evil will set up the reign of righteousness among a people who are not righteous on the outside only. In character they will agree with the righteous God who "tries the hearts and reins." The soul longs for the reign of the wicked to end, and for the righteous man to be established.
One writer sees the prayer widen from David's own case to the whole earth, and names the time when it will be answered:
The psalmist turns from the thought of his own vindication and deliverance, and cries out for evil to cease on the earth. He asks that the righteous be established in it, and that God, who knows men perfectly, test everyone in the innermost truth of heart and reins. The great tribulation, which our Lord speaks of, will accomplish this — not only in Israel, which will be at the centre of it, but largely also in the nations around it.
Another writer warns against stretching the words too far. The cry is about oppression now, not about the final destiny of souls:
On Ps. 7:9, "Oh, let the evil of the wicked come to an end!" — this is the groan of a soul feeling the strong hand of oppression. It has no reference to eternal judgment.
Older translations read the second line as singular: "the righteous [Man]" — one person, not a group. One writer answers it by calling for the Lord Jesus to come:
"Oh, let the wrong of the wicked come to an end, And establish Thou the righteous [Man]" (Ps. 7:9). "Even so, come, LORD JESUS"!
The God who tests hearts has not changed. But one writer marks a shift in why He searches:
Long ago, under the law, God was always seen as the Searcher of the heart, the One who tests the inner thoughts of people. And He searched then to reward each one according to his work (see 1 Chron. 28:9; Ps. 7:9; Jer. 17:10). But the apostle reveals God as the Searcher of the heart with another aim… His search does not end in finding evil, but good — good that He owns as answering to Himself, not evil to be judged and punished. (Rom. 8:27.)
One writer names what does that searching now. Scripture tests a person the way verse 9 says God does:
The word of man flatters our nature and entertains our mind. The word of God tries the reins and the heart. It wakes and searches the conscience. It proves what I am and where I am. And, more important still, it holds out the remedy for my soul's disease. That remedy is Jesus and the resurrection.
- Slandered. The psalm starts in false accusation. God is the resource of His people in every trial, and He is never indifferent to their sorrows.
- Searched. "Reins" is an old word for the kidneys, a picture of what a person thinks and feels inside. God tests the self no accuser can reach.
- Settled. God tests the inside. So the people He establishes are not righteous on the surface only. They agree in character with Him.
- Scoped. One writer calls the cry the groan of a soul under oppression. It looks for evil to end on earth, not for eternal judgment.
- Sustained. The same God searches hearts today — now to find good, not to punish evil. His word still tries the reins and the heart, and points to the remedy.
My shield is with God, who saveth the upright in heart.
Enemies are slandering David, and he has just asked God to test hearts and establish the just. Verse 10 is where the asking stops and the resting begins.
The verse marks a change of tone in the psalm. Up to this point David has been pleading; here he states a settled fact.
In verses 10-13, the tone changes from pleading to confident expectation of God. The Lord's character is known and unchangeable. He is the God of truth and righteousness. That character promises a final triumph over the wicked one to the soul that waits patiently for His own time.
Nothing in David's circumstances has changed. He now measures his safety by God, not by his enemies.
Older translations read "My defence is of God." The shield is not a thing God hands out. It is God Himself. Writers see this in David's own life, when Shimei turned on him in anger:
The same spirit of godly fear revives the memory of the past in David's conscience in a striking way. It leads him to see and admit the hand of God in what he then suffered from the malicious anger of his enemy. That same fear also enables him to place the God of his salvation as a shield of defence between his enemy and himself. With a broken spirit, but a fully trusting heart, he can commit himself to Him.
David admits his own past guilt, and still shelters behind God.
The line just before this says God tests hearts and minds. So this verse ties salvation to what God finds inside a person, not to what accusers say outside.
The wicked seek to establish themselves, but will be put to shame, while the just are firmly established by God. "For the righteous God tests the hearts and minds." Those who stand the test will be established; those who fail will fall under judgment. So the godly in Israel will say, "My defence is of God, who saves the upright in heart." This will be the final outcome of the great tribulation for a redeemed Israel.
The God who searches is the God who shields. His testing is not a threat to the upright. It is the ground of their safety.
How can anyone claim to be "upright in heart" before a God who tests hearts? Writers are careful here.
In Psalm 7 the righteous man calls for judgment on the ground of his righteousness. That righteousness means integrity and grace. It is not self-righteousness. It is righteousness in view of God's government, and such a righteousness does exist.
Uprightness in this psalm is honesty of heart under God's dealings, not a claim to be sinless. David's appeal to his own righteousness is bold. One writer asks, "What Christian could ask this?" Yet the comfort of the verse is open to every believer:
God is not and will not be indifferent to the sorrows and trials of His people. What a comfort to be able to speak to God!
The hardest part of waiting is the silence. Verse 10 answers it by pointing to what God is, not to what God has yet done.
The godly soul waits in the middle of abounding evil for God to step in. What holds it up is knowing the character of God and His governmental dealings. God saves the upright in heart. God is a righteous judge. Far from being indifferent to evil, God is angry with the wicked every day. God gives space for repentance, but if the wicked "turn not", the sword of judgment is ready for its work.
Writers read the psalm forward to the great tribulation and the judgment that ends it. Set against that day, the claim of this verse is startling.
The soul may well rejoice if it can say, about that day, "My shield is upon God, who saves the upright in heart!" Who indeed but He could use the shield for anyone at such a time?
- Turn. Pleading turns into confidence here. The circumstances stay the same, but the soul now rests on the unchangeable character of God.
- Shield. Protection is not a thing God gives. It is God Himself, set between the believer and the attacker.
- Search. The God who tests hearts and minds is the God who shields. His testing is not the danger; it is the safety.
- Integrity. "Upright in heart" means honesty and grace under God's government. It is not self-righteousness or a claim to be sinless.
- Patience. God is angry with the wicked every day, yet He still gives space to turn back. The upright wait, knowing that in the worst day only He can shield anyone at all.
God is a righteous judge, and a God who is indignant all the day.
This psalm is a cry for God to rise up and judge. The man praying it is surrounded by evil, and verse 11 is the ground his confidence rests on: God is not neutral about evil.
What keeps a believer steady while evil runs unchecked? Not the circumstances, but what he knows about God.
The godly soul waits in the middle of abounding evil for God to step in. What holds it up is knowing the character of God and the way He governs. God saves the upright in heart; God is a righteous judge; so far from being indifferent to evil, God is angry with the wicked every day. God gives space for repentance, but if the wicked "do not turn," the sword of judgment is ready for its work.
The next verse speaks of a man who "does not repent," so judgment does not fall at once. Does that delay mean God is soft on evil?
The psalm goes on to consider the government of God. That government is for righteousness, though it is patient. Both the righteous and the wicked may misunderstand that patience. Though patient, His anger burns against the impenitent, stored up day by day, until at last it flames out. The sword is being sharpened; the bent bow makes no sound until the arrow flies — then it is a weapon of death, all aflame with divine vengeance.
Note the words "every day." God overlooks nothing, and time erases nothing.
How can a God of love be angry every day? One answer is that this anger is judicial. It is not personal ill-will.
Righteousness becomes wrath — not hatred — when evil stands in front of judicial authority acting in righteousness. The righteous Lord loves righteousness; but God is a righteous judge, and God is angry every day. And now wrath is revealed from heaven as surely as infinite love is. In sovereign grace He rises above the sin, and loves with no motive outside Himself. His only motive is in His own nature, and it is part of His glory. Man must have a motive for loving. God has none but in Himself.
The line before this verse describes God testing hearts and minds. That testing carries straight into the sword of verse 12, which no one can dodge.
Verse 10 showed the psalmist's confidence. That confidence is fully justified, because "God is a just Judge." He governs in pure righteousness, and so He "is angry with the wicked every day." He does give the wicked a chance to "turn back." But if that man does not turn back, God sharpens His sword to be "sharper than any two-edged sword" (Hebrews 4:12), a sword that even discerns the thoughts and intentions of the heart. Who can escape the penetrating power of such an instrument?
The psalm also looks past the writer's own day. One commentator sees a judgment still ahead.
Psalm 7 appeals to Jehovah... that Jehovah may arise and awake to the judgment He has commanded... He would then judge the peoples, so clearly bringing out the future judgment. Another point comes out here. The Lord judges the righteous man. If a man does not turn, but goes on in his wickedness, His wrath will follow him.
This is one of the truths people most want to soften. Yet it is exactly the fact that makes the cross necessary and makes God's love astonishing rather than sentimental.
Behind the truth of propitiation lies a basic fact: God is angry at sin, and that anger shows itself in punishment. Here is the real reason why every teacher of "modern" tendencies avoids the subject, even if he does not go so far as to deny it flatly or explain it away. And yet how often it is repeated in Scripture!
Held against that background, the gospel's contrast becomes visible:
Is not God "angry with the wicked every day"? Is not sin hateful to Him?... Yet notice the glorious, surprising contrast: "But after the kindness and love of God toward man appeared." Divine love exceeds human depravity.
- Daily — God's anger is not a passing mood. It is righteousness answering evil, "stored up day by day."
- Patient — God gives space for repentance. The righteous and the wicked can both misread that patience.
- Judicial — this anger is not hatred. It is righteousness meeting evil, and it stands alongside infinite love.
- Searching — God's sword discerns the thoughts and intentions of the heart. No one slips past it.
- Answered — the anger that makes judgment certain is the background to propitiation. Into that scene God's kindness and love appeared, and love outweighed man's guilt.
If one turn not, he will sharpen his sword; he hath bent his bow and made it ready,
Psalm 7 is the prayer of a man hunted by enemies. He asks God to rise up and judge, and the picture that follows is of God arming Himself for war. One small word keeps that picture from being sheer terror: if.
This verse belongs to a psalm that looks ahead to God judging the nations.
He would then judge the peoples, and this brings out the future judgment clearly. Another point comes out here. The Lord judges the righteous man. If a man does not turn, but goes on in his wickedness, His wrath will follow him.
God does not arm Himself in haste. He draws the sword only after the wicked refuse the room He gives them to turn. Older translations read "if he turn not," which is how the writers below quote it.
While evil is everywhere, the godly soul waits for God to step in. What holds it up is knowing God's character and how He governs. God saves the upright in heart. God is a righteous judge. Far from being indifferent to evil, God is angry with the wicked every day. God gives space for repentance. But if the wicked "turn not," the sword of judgment is ready for its work against the man who works evil, who plans harm, and who speaks what is false. Under the government of God, the man who plans harm falls into the pit he dug for others.
The verse holds two pictures. A blade is being ground. A bow is already bent, and that is the quietest moment before it fires.
The psalm goes on to look at the government of God, which works for righteousness. Yet it is patient in a way that both the righteous and the wicked may misread. Though He is patient, His anger burns against those who will not repent. Day by day it builds, until at last it breaks out in flame. He sharpens the sword. The bent bow makes no sound until the arrow flies: then it is a weapon of death, blazing with God's vengeance.
How sharp is that sword? Sharp enough to read a man's thoughts.
Verse 10 shows the psalmist's confidence, and that confidence is fully justified: "God is a just Judge." He governs in pure righteousness, and so He "is angry with the wicked every day" (v. 11). He does give the wicked man his chance to "turn back." But if he does not turn back, God sharpens His sword to be "sharper than any two-edged sword" (Hebrews 4:12), discerning even the thoughts and intentions of the heart. Who can escape the piercing power of such a weapon?
The sharpening of the sword and the securing of the godly are not two separate moods in God. They are one action seen from two sides.
Psalm 7 looks at Christ and the faithful remnant in conscious integrity — Christ's own place, not the place He took for others, and the remnant's place as renewed through grace. So the cry here is not for rescue or mercy, which would save them and shame their enemies by goodness, but for righteousness: Jehovah will judge the peoples. He will rise up in His anger and sharpen His sword against the wicked, as He establishes the just.
The bent bow makes no sound — and people draw the wrong conclusion from the silence.
God's judgment will surely come, though in His goodness it may be delayed a long time. In His goodness God holds back from judging and bears with evil for a long time… So how do people treat this patience of God? Sadly, they despise the riches of His goodness. Because He "holds back," they think God will never judge. Because He is "patient," they think God does not care about evil… God gives room to repent — and that shows repentance is necessary for each person to be right with God.
- Patience first. God gives space to turn; the delay before judgment is goodness, not indifference to evil.
- Turn or not. One condition carries the whole verse. Wrath follows only the man who will not turn and goes on in his wickedness.
- Silent readiness. The sword is being ground and the bow is already bent; the quiet is the last moment before the arrow leaves.
- Nowhere to hide. The sword is sharper than any two-edged sword. It reaches the thoughts and intentions of the heart, so no hidden motive survives.
- One act, two ends. God sharpens the sword against the wicked in the same act that establishes the just. One righteousness: ruin to one man, rescue to the other.
And he hath prepared for him instruments of death; his arrows hath he made burning.
The verse sits at the end of a warning: the God who judges rightly has His weapons ready and waiting. The question is not whether judgment comes, but why it waits — and what that delay offers the man it targets.
The weapons are prepared "for him" — for the man who will not turn. The verse belongs to a passage on how God rules the world day by day. One writer shows what holds a believer steady while evil abounds, and what God gives the wicked first:
The godly soul waits in the middle of abounding evil for God to step in. What holds it up is knowing the character of God and how He governs. God saves the upright in heart. God is a righteous judge. He is not indifferent to evil: He is angry with the wicked every day. God gives space for repentance, but if the wicked "turn not," the sword of judgment is ready for its work against the one who works evil, who plans trouble, and speaks lies.
An older English version reads, "He ordains His arrows against the persecutors." One writer gives a better wording:
Psalm 7:13, "He ordains His arrows against the persecutors." Better: "He makes his arrows burning ones," that is, to consume His enemies.
The ESV reads the same way: God makes His arrows fiery shafts, arrows meant to consume.
"Deadly weapons" does not mean only bows and swords. God can reach for anything He has made:
"He also prepares for Himself instruments of death" (v. 13). God can use whatever means He wants to carry out the judgment of His enemies. God split the earth apart, and it swallowed Korah and his rebellious company (Num. 16:31-32). Or Elijah, depending on God, called down fire from heaven. It consumed two companies of fifty men each who came to arrest him (2 Kings 1:10-12). So God's arrows are made into fiery shafts: His government is firm and decided.
A bow already drawn makes no noise. The silence hides what God is storing up:
The psalm goes on to consider the government of God. That government is for righteousness. Yet it is patient, and both the righteous and the wicked may misread that patience. Though patient, His anger burns against those who will not repent. It is stored up day by day, until at last it flames out. The sword is being sharpened. The bent bow makes no sound until the arrow flies. Then it is a weapon of death, all aflame with divine vengeance.
Notice what happens to the psalmist's tone in these verses. He stops pleading and starts stating. The delay comes from something in God, not from any weakness in the threat:
In verses 10-13 the tone changes. Pleading gives way to confident, believing expectation. The Lord's character is known and unchanging: He is the God of truth and righteousness. That assures the soul which waits patiently for His timing: the triumph over the wicked one will come at last. Judgment is prepared according to truth against the evildoer (Rom. 2:2). God has ordained His arrow to reach its mark. The bow has long been ready, but He draws it slowly, because His patience is great. In the meantime He judges the righteous now, according to the truth and holiness of His eternal Name (1 Peter 1:17; 4:17-19).
The gap between the prepared weapon and the released arrow is not empty time. It is offered time, and it has an end:
God is holy. He waits in long-suffering mercy, not willing that any should perish. But there is a limit to this long-suffering… Come now to the refuge that God has provided. Believe on His Son.
- Prepared — the weapons are already made and waiting. God has no shortage of means: the ground opened under Korah, and fire fell on the men sent to arrest Elijah.
- Burning — God does not only aim the arrows. He sets them alight to consume. This is destruction, not a warning shot.
- Patient — the bow is drawn, but silent. Wicked and righteous alike can misread that silence. Day by day God stores up anger against those who will not turn.
- Certain — the arrow will reach its mark. The slow draw comes from God's patience, never from any doubt about the outcome.
- Now — the pause is space to repent, and it has an end. Come to the refuge God has provided while it stands open.
Behold, he travaileth with iniquity, yea, he hath conceived mischief, and brought forth falsehood
Psalm 7 is David's appeal to God while enemies hunt him. By verse 14 he turns from his own case to the man plotting against him. The picture is a pregnancy: the wicked man conceives, carries, then gives birth. The question is what that labour delivers.
The verse sits in a part of the psalm where the writer waits for God to act and steadies himself on what God is like:
The godly soul waits for God to step in while evil abounds all around. What holds it up is knowing the character of God and His governmental dealings. God saves the upright in heart; God is a righteous judge; so far from being indifferent to evil, God is angry with the wicked every day. God gives space for repentance. But if the wicked "turn not," the sword of judgment is ready for its work against the one who labours with iniquity, who conceives mischief, and utters what is false.
The verse names three stages, and each one takes time.
The character of the wicked is exposed in his actions: he "brings forth iniquity," for he conceives trouble (v. 14). This is no sudden slip into wrongdoing. It is a planned intention to cause trouble, and so falsehood goes with it. That deceit seeks to hide his motives by well-planned actions, such as Absalom used when plotting to overthrow his father David (2 Sam. 15:1-12).
The same picture of conceiving and birth describes sin itself, traced through to its end:
Lust is the mother of sin. If it works it brings forth sin, and sin carried to completion brings forth death.
Notice what the pregnancy produces. He conceives mischief and delivers falsehood, and the scheme cheats the schemer himself:
The result as to the enemy of the righteous shows the hand that is over him. He toils to produce what is vain labour, has his toil for his pains, an end which deceives the labourer. It is not merely vain, it is his own undoing: the ditch dug for another is the trap to catch the digger. And so the fruit of his toil he harvests in an unwelcome way and in the most perfect retribution: for God is Master of all, and will be glorified in all.
The verses that follow show the birth going wrong: the pit swallows the man who dug it. One writer applies this to Daniel's accusers, the men who plotted his death and then died in the lions' den themselves:
They had laboured with iniquity, conceived mischief, and brought forth falsehood. They made a pit, and dug it, and fell into the ditch that they had made. Their mischief returned on their own head, and their violent dealing came down on their own head (Ps. 7:14-16). They fell easy victims to the hunger of the beasts of prey. How true it is that "He catches the wise in their craftiness" (Job 5:13).
The portrait reaches past one man in David's day. Hamilton Smith reads these closing verses as a picture of a future enemy, and still leaves the psalm's confidence open to the believer now:
Prophetically it sets out the experience of the godly Jew under the persecution of Antichrist. He is clearly in view in verses 14 to 16. Christ is the only One who suffered perfectly for doing good — "He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly" (1 Peter 2:22-23). … So in the same circumstances the Christian can take up the confidence of this psalm, without using its call for judgment on his enemies.
- Conceive. Evil here begins inside, on purpose. It is "no sudden slip into wrongdoing," but "a planned intention to cause trouble."
- Carry. The pregnancy has time to run because God "gives space for repentance" — His patience is not indifference, since He "is angry with the wicked every day."
- Deliver. The birth is a lie. The plotter "has his toil for his pains, an end which deceives the labourer" — the scheme cheats the schemer first.
- Recoil. The birth turns on the mother. "The ditch dug for another is the trap to catch the digger" — as Daniel's accusers found at the lions' den.
- Contrast. The portrait points on to Antichrist. It is the opposite of Christ, in whose mouth no deceit was found, who "continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly." He is the pattern for anyone suffering for doing good.
He digged a pit, and hollowed it out, and is fallen into the hole that he made.
Psalm 7 is a cry for God to judge. This verse shows one way that judgment comes: a man digs a trap for someone else, and then drops into it himself.
The verse does not describe an accident. It shows how God governs the world.
The godly soul waits in the middle of abounding evil for God to step in. What holds it up is knowing the character of God and how He governs. God saves the upright in heart; God is a righteous judge; so far from being indifferent to evil, God is angry with the wicked every day. God gives space for repentance. But if the wicked "will not turn back," the sword of judgment is ready for its work. That work is against the one who labours with iniquity, who conceives mischief, and speaks what is false. In the government of God the one who devises mischief will fall into the pit he has dug for others.
That patience is not softness. Something is building up during the delay.
Though patient, His anger burns against those who will not repent. It is stored up day by day, until at last it flames out. The sword is being sharpened. The bent bow makes no sound until the arrow flies. Then it is a weapon of death, all aflame with divine vengeance.
A pit is not dug by mistake. It takes planning, and so does the evil behind it.
The character of the wicked is exposed in his actions: he "brings forth iniquity," for he conceives trouble (v. 14). This is no sudden slip into wrongdoing. The trouble was intended and planned in advance, so falsehood comes with it — the deceit that tries to hide his motives behind well-planned actions. Absalom used such actions when plotting the overthrow of his father David. The coming antichrist will be of the same character. But just as Absalom in effect prepared a pit for his own downfall, so the antichrist will fall by his own proud plotting against the Lord.
All that work produces nothing the digger wanted. It turns on him instead.
He toils to produce what is vain labour, has his toil for his pains, an end which deceives the labourer. It is not merely vain, it is his own undoing: the ditch dug for another is the trap to catch the digger. So he harvests the fruit of his toil in an unwelcome way, in the most perfect retribution — for God is Master of all, and will be glorified in all.
The contrast with the godly man is sharp.
The man to whom grace has given clear, single-minded sight sees the way straight before him. The wicked man needs no executioner: he will die by his own evil.
This is not theory. Daniel's accusers schemed to have him thrown to the lions, and ended up in the den themselves.
They laboured with iniquity, conceived mischief, and gave birth to falsehood. They made a pit and fell into it themselves (Ps. 7:14-16). They fell easy victims to the hunger of the beasts of prey. How true it is that "He catches the wise in their craftiness" (Job 5:13).
The pattern is not finished. Commentators expect it again at the end.
This still instructs us, for this has been God's way, and will be so still. Daniel's accusers are themselves thrown into the den they had prepared for him. And the flame of the fire killed the men who threw the captives into the furnace. And so it is foretold of the enemies and apostates of the last days in this world's history: "Their own iniquity shall be brought upon them" (Ps. 7, Ps. 9, Ps. 10, Ps. 35, Ps. 57, Ps. 141). Satan himself, who has the power of death, is destroyed through death.
Read at its widest, the verse reaches the first deceiver of all, and the promise God made against him.
The deceiver himself must come under the curse of God. He must also hear that from the weak woman he deceived, One will come who will end his wicked schemes and destroy his power forever. A Deliverer is promised. He is to be the seed of the woman. The humbling of the enemy is to be absolute. The victory of God is to be complete. Truly the triumph of the wicked is short, and the joy of the godless lasts only a moment (Job 20:5)… His head is to be bruised.
- Dug — no one falls into this pit by accident. The wicked man conceives the mischief and dresses it in falsehood long before anyone gets hurt.
- Delayed — God gives space for repentance, but that patience is a bow bent in silence, with anger stored up day by day.
- Dropped — the digger's work is worse than wasted. His own trap catches him, and he needs no executioner but his own evil.
- Displayed — Daniel's accusers fell into the den they dug. Commentators expect the same in the last days.
- Defeated — the same rule reaches the oldest enemy of all. His head is to be bruised, and his triumph lasts only a moment.
His mischief shall return upon his own head, and his violence shall come down upon his own pate.
The picture in this verse is of a man ruined by his own weapon: what he aimed at someone else lands on his own head. Psalm 7 sets that reversal inside a larger question. How does God govern a world where the wicked hold the upper hand, and how should those they hunt wait?
The verse follows straight on from the image of a man digging a hole. His scheming is work that produces nothing he wanted:
The result as to the enemy of the righteous shows the hand that is over him. He works hard, but the labour is empty. His only reward is the toil itself, and the outcome cheats the worker. It is not just empty, it is his own undoing: the ditch dug for another is the trap to catch the digger. So he harvests the fruit of his toil in an unwelcome way, and the retribution is perfect: God is Master of all, and He will be glorified in all.
The recoil often looks slow in coming. Earlier in the psalm God is angry every day. He sharpens a sword and bends a bow. Patience and gathering anger belong together here:
The psalm goes on to consider the government of God. That government is for righteousness, though it is patient. Both sides may misunderstand that patience — righteous and wicked alike. Though patient, His anger burns against the impenitent, day by day stored up, until at last it flames forth. The sword is being sharpened. The bent bow makes no sound until the arrow flies. Then it is a weapon of death, all aflame with divine vengeance.
The man hunted in this psalm cannot arrange this outcome himself. What steadies him is what he knows about God:
The godly soul waits in the middle of abounding evil for God to step in. What sustains him is knowing the character of God and His governmental dealings. God saves the upright in heart. God is a righteous judge. He is so far from being indifferent to evil that He is angry with the wicked every day. God gives space for repentance. But if the wicked "turn not," the sword of judgment is ready for its work. It is ready for the one who labours with iniquity, who conceives mischief, and speaks what is false. In the government of God the one who devises mischief will fall into the pit that he has dug for others.
The men who plotted against Daniel ended up in the lions' den themselves:
They had laboured with iniquity, conceived mischief, and given birth to lies. They made a pit, dug it out, and fell into the hole they had made. Their mischief returned upon their own head, and their violence came down upon their own skull (Ps. 7:14-16). They fell easy victims to the hungry beasts of prey. How true it is that "He catches the wise in their craftiness" (Job 5:13).
Sometimes the guilty man sees the hand behind it. One king, crippled in the way he had crippled others, said who had done it:
Notice what Adoni-bezek did. He went through the ordeal of losing his thumbs and his great toes, which left him crippled. Yet he traced what had happened to him back to God: "God has repaid me." The boomerang he had so often thrown at others had hit himself. This is always so.
Commentators also read the verse forward, to an enemy greater than any human plotter:
A Deliverer is promised. The humiliation of the enemy is to be absolute. The victory of God is to be complete. Truly the triumphing of the wicked is short, and the joy of the hypocrite lasts only a moment (Job 20:5). "He makes a pit, digging it out, and falls into the hole that he has made. His mischief returns upon his own head, and on his own skull his violence descends" (Ps. 7:15-16). His head is to be bruised.
That fall signals that morning has come:
But here, as the day approaches, He looks ahead more fully and with greater glory to the destruction of the great enemy. That destruction is his fall into the ditch that he made for others. Like the dawn, it is the herald of the day. The gathering of the congregation around the Lord will follow, and that is what this psalm looks for.
- Sown. The harm a man plans is a crop he plants; the ditch he digs for another becomes the trap that catches the digger.
- Stored. God's patience is not indifference. He stores up anger day by day while He gives the wicked space to turn back.
- Returned. What the plotter aimed at others comes back on him. Daniel's accusers met the lions, and Adoni-bezek suffered what he had done to others.
- Crushed. The same pattern reaches its end in the great enemy: a Deliverer is promised, and the enemy's head is to be bruised.
- Praised. That fall comes like dawn. It heralds the day, and the congregation gathers around the Lord.
I will praise Jehovah according to his righteousness, and will sing forth the name of Jehovah the Most High.
Psalm 7 opened with a man running for his life from slander and pursuit, asking God to arise and judge. It closes with a single line of song. That ending raises two questions. What does it mean to give God the thanks due to His righteousness? And why does the psalm reach for the title "Most High" only at the very end?
The song is the settled outcome of what the psalm has been asking for. One writer traces the psalms leading up to it and reads this closing praise as sunrise after a long night:
A word of praise closes this series of Psalms. In them the millennial name of Jehovah is given: "The Most High." We see that the overthrow of the wicked brings the praise of Jehovah, as it will be heard on earth when He has come back. Look back over these Psalms, beginning with the Third. We have a morning hymn (3), then an evening hymn (4). Then comes a night experience (5), followed by the deepest night (6). Then the morning breaks, when the Judge arises and the wickedness of the wicked comes to an end (7).
The singers do not set the terms of their own praise. God's righteousness sets them. That standard also separates His coming reign from the way governments work now.
Their praise will not be according to their preferences, however, but according to the Lord's righteousness. Their song of praise will rise to the One who is "the Lord Most High," a title particularly fitted to His exaltation in the millennium. He will then reign in absolute righteousness. That is a contrast to the compromising of righteousness so common in governments today.
That righteousness is what the psalm asked for all along. Its plea was not first for mercy but for a verdict. One writer hears in it the voice of Christ and of the faithful remnant of Israel:
Psalm 7 looks at Christ and the remnant in conscious integrity. This is Christ's actual place, not one He took; and it is the remnant's place, renewed through grace. So it is not deliverance or mercy that is looked for, saving and putting the enemies to shame in goodness. It is righteousness. Jehovah shall judge the peoples. He will arise in His anger and sharpen His sword against the wicked, as He establishes the just.
The word behind "Most High" is Elyon. It is a name of God in its own right, and its reach is the point:
Elyon, "the Most High," is another name of God. It can stand alone, as in Deuteronomy 32:8. Or another name of God is added to it, and it becomes "the most high God," Genesis 14:20, or "the LORD Most High," Psalm 7:17. It is not confined to Israel, for He is "the Most High over all the earth," Psalm 83:18.
This is also where the name first appears in the book of Psalms:
"The Most High" appears here for the first time in the Psalms. It is God's millennial Name, as supreme in government and blessing. Jehovah is in the assembly of the peoples, and ministers judgment. He is therefore the Anointed of Psalm 2.
This verse puts righteousness and the Most High side by side. Both meet in one figure from Genesis 14 — Melchizedek, king and priest:
In the last verse, we seem to hear the voice of Jesus as Melchizedek, the King of righteousness and peace, and Priest of the Most High God (Hebrews 7:2). The coming age is the appointed setting for that particular side of Messiah's glory as mediator. In it He will stand in an open relation, on one side to the Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth, and on the other side to man, as the royal Minister of priestly mediation and blessing. Genesis 14:18-20 gives us the picture of it.
The verse is a promise: I will give thanks, I will sing praise. Read on, and Psalm 8 is that promise kept:
This Psalm closes this mysterious season. For now we reach the second morning — the eighth day, the day of resurrection — the opening of the kingdom, or "the day of the Lord."… It is the praise that was vowed just before (see Psalm 7:17), now that the wicked have come to an end and the congregation has been gathered.
- Night → morning. The psalm's darkness ends in song; the overthrow of the wicked is what sets the praise going.
- Song → standard. God's righteousness sets the measure, not the singer's preferences. His reign will drop the compromises common in governments today.
- Standard → name. Elyon, "Most High," is a name of God that is not confined to Israel; He is Most High over all the earth.
- Name → kingdom. It is God's name as supreme in government and blessing. Here He ministers judgment among the peoples.
- Vow → payment. "I will sing praise" is a promise. Psalm 8 sings it, with the wicked ended and the congregation gathered.
(To the chief Musician. Upon the Gittith. A Psalm of David.) Jehovah our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy majesty above the heavens.
Psalm 8 opens with a cry that reaches from the ground under our feet to the space above the stars. It calls God by two names at once, claims the whole earth for that name, and does so at the close of a group of psalms about rejection and enemies. (Where the ESV says "majestic", older translations say "excellent" — the word the writers below use.)
These are people who saw their King rejected. Psalm 8 closes their story, and they sing it themselves after their rescue.
We have now come to Psalm 8. It closes this unfolding of the state of the remnant, and of God's purposes about the rejected Anointed of Jehovah. The now delivered remnant is still the speaker. "O Jehovah, our Lord!" The heathen have risen up against Him in vain! It is not now a king in Zion — though that will surely be true — but a glory set above the heavens. It is not now only the people of the great King who are blessed. Wherever the children of men live, Jehovah's name, Israel's Lord, is great.
Behind the two English titles lie two Hebrew words, the second of them plural. One writer takes that name to cover the Father, the Son and the Spirit alike.
Don't these and many other Scriptures identify the Father, the Son and the Spirit — these three ever-glorious Persons — not only with "ELOHIM" (Genesis 1:1 and elsewhere), but also with the "LORD our Lord" of Psalm 8:1, 9? In Hebrew that is "JEHOVAH our ADONAHY" — a plural. His Name of excellence is to be spread abroad over all the earth, and His glory is above the heavens.
The verse states it as fact. The world around us does not look like it.
The name of Jehovah our Lord is excellent. Beyond all question it excels every other name. The highest heaven acknowledges that excellence in full; all the earth does not yet. Over most of the earth people still blaspheme it. A day is coming when the words of the first and last verses of Psalm 8 will come true in glory. But for that day we have to wait.
The psalm names both the trouble and the Person who will end it.
Today we would have to exclaim instead, "O Lord our Lord, how dishonoured is Your name in all the earth!" There is a reason for this. Our short Psalm names the source of the trouble in one word — "man." Having done so, it passes on at once to dwell upon the great Person who is going to make the name of the Lord excellent in all the earth — "the Son of Man."
The verb "set" has a history that runs back to the first chapter of the Bible.
In Psalm 8:1 we meet this word — "O LORD our Lord, how excellent is Your Name in all the earth! You have set (ordained) Your glory above the heavens." This word first appears in Genesis 1:17, where we read that God set "two great lights" in the sky. The verb here is in the middle voice, reflexive, the glory of the action belonging to the One who performed it.
This glory is not the night sky the psalmist looks at two verses later.
It is not the glory of moon and stars spread over the heavens, such as the psalmist speaks of in the third verse, but a glory above all created things, however wonderful.
The earth has not yet owned that name. Even so, there is something to see now.
The earth where people live is not yet put under Him, as our Scripture tells us. Yet when we look at Him crowned with glory and honour on high, faith already sees the divine glory set in Him above the heavens. That is the pledge that all the earth will soon own His name as excellent, as it really is.
The heading over this psalm carries the word "Gittith". One writer links it both to music and to the winepress.
Most take it to be the name of a musical instrument, perhaps used by the Gittites, the people of Gath. Even so, an element in it does point to thoughts like "wine-pressing". Scripture ties that idea again and again to judgment followed by gladness in the hearts of God's people, because God has vindicated His righteousness.
- The name. The name of Jehovah our Lord excels every other name. The highest heaven owns that in full. Earth still blasphemes it.
- The cause. The psalm traces the trouble to one word, "man", and then moves straight to the One who will fix it: the Son of Man.
- The setting. "Set" is the word used when God set the two great lights in the sky — an action whose glory belongs to the One who performed it.
- The reach. Not a king in Zion only, but a glory above the heavens and a name great wherever people live.
- The pledge. The earth is not yet subject to Him. But faith looks at Him crowned with glory and honour on high, and that sight guarantees the rest.
Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou established praise because of thine adversaries, to still the enemy and the avenger.
Psalm 8 begins with God's name filling the whole earth, and then turns to the mouths of babies as the place where God founds strength. Why does He answer His foes with the weakest voices there are, and why does He silence the enemy instead of arguing him down?
Jesus quoted this verse when children praised Him and the leaders were annoyed. Where the Psalm says strength, He said praise. One writer ties the two together:
The religious leaders themselves saw His wonderful works of power and grace, and to their great annoyance they heard the children's cry. Jesus defended the children in their simplicity, quoting the verse from Psalm 8 as fulfilled in them. The Psalm says "established strength," while He applied it by saying "perfected praise." Either way the thought is the same: God does what He wants, and receives the praise He looks for, through small and weak things. This makes it clear that the strength and the praise come from Himself.
Another writer traces where such praise comes from, and who offers it now:
Strength is founded, praise is perfected, out of the mouths of babies and infants. By divine power, grace makes its new-born vessel of mercy, and that vessel prepares pure songs of perfect praise, in which the Lord alone is exalted and everything that would exalt itself is brought low... His believing people, who are described as "new-born babies," now offer the fruit of perfect praise to God, and He accepts it.
The leaders who objected to the children's praise got their answer from this verse. It put them, not the children, in the wrong:
The hostility of the leading men, who spoke and acted for the people, now came into the open, and they formally refused their rightful Lord and King... The Lord rebuked them with a passage from Psalm 8, which on this occasion fitted perfectly. It was meant both to rebuke the Jews, by giving them, for the present, the place of the enemy and the avenger, and to present Him, the rejected Messiah, before them in His full and proper glories.
When men would not honour the Lord, the Father made sure someone would:
Even in the days of His humiliation, babies and infants speaking His praise stilled the enemy and the avenger. The Father saw to it that, if the Lord was despised and rejected by men for His sake, there would still be a testimony to His glory.
One writer sees God setting man aside and putting His Word in the mouths of the weakest. He also names who will still the enemy:
David also saw man set aside, so that God might give and establish His Word out of the mouth of even babies and infants. "The enemy and the avenger" — who may be the same as "the man of the earth" in Psalm 10 — will be stilled, not by the efforts of mortal man, but by God Himself, working through the weakest and least important instruments. That work is reserved for the Son of Man Himself.
Another writer says the silencing goes further than stopping critics, and shows why such praise must come first:
So the enemy is silenced by more than the praise of babies and infants... He Himself will "strike the earth with the rod of His mouth, and with the breath of His lips He shall kill the wicked" (see Isaiah 11:4). But for this He will establish praise out of the mouth of babies and infants — that is, I have no doubt, of newly converted souls, humbled and brought down to feel the littleness and weakness this implies. So we see clearly why He must produce such praise before the kingdom can come: the heirs of it must be made ready.
One writer names the reason it must be weakness that sings:
The heavens above speak of His greatness without a word. But it is out of the mouths of babies and infants that He has established strength and perfected praise... It is weakness that can celebrate the strength of God, and He puts His strength to work only for weakness.
- Source. Strength and praise both come out of God — the infant mouth only proves the supply is not human.
- Gift. Grace makes the worshipper before it makes the song. The song brings self low and exalts the Lord alone.
- Reach. Children gave the praise the leaders withheld. By refusing it, the leaders took the place of the enemy in the verse.
- Guard. In the days of His rejection the Father saw to it that His Son's glory never went unwitnessed.
- Result. The Son of man Himself will still the enemy. First He establishes praise in the small and weak, and so makes the heirs of His kingdom ready.
When I see thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and stars, which thou hast established;
David is outdoors at night, looking up, and the sky sets off a chain of thought that runs through the rest of the psalm. The sky raises two questions: what these lights say about the God who made them, and what a creature as small as man is worth to Him.
David names only the lights that shine after dark. One writer takes the missing sun as deliberate:
Hebrews 2 quotes the wonderful Psalm 8. This Psalm is clearly a night Psalm. David says, "When I look at Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have set in place." This is surely meant to teach a spiritual lesson. The sun is not mentioned. It was the night of Judaism; the day of Christianity had not arrived. The moon and stars told of light, and in the case of the moon, reflected light. So the types and prophecies told of the coming day. Their light was reflected. Faint as it was, they were the forerunner of the coming day.
Others read the same detail as speaking of the present, not Israel's past:
It is a night scene of Scripture, for the Psalmist does not see the sun shining, but the moon and the stars. And during this world's night the Christian can look up in faith and see the glory of God above the heavens in Jesus. Soon the night will pass, then the sun will shine.
Creation is one book, and Scripture is another. Each shows something the other does not:
The book of nature reveals God's fingers; the book of revelation His heart. The first tells us of His originality, design, forethought and unlimited power. The second reveals Himself — His heart, His love, His design in creating man, and His ways in blessing Him.
The same writer sets God's workmanship beside our own:
We marvel at God's fingers. We stand in silent awe at the wonders of creation. Man works hard to perfect his inventions, one slow step at a time. God created things that were perfect from the first moment of creation. Man corrects his mistakes. God makes none.
Studying the sky is not the same as reading it as David read it. One does not lead to the other:
It is a very solemn thing. The men who have learned most of God's wonders by searching the earth and the sky still stay ignorant of His glory as Creator, despite all the knowledge they have gained. They see the wonders of creation, but have not learned what David learned so long ago... Man does not find out God by searching. As we read in Hebrews 11:3, "By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God." Someone who knows nothing about the natural sciences, if taught by God through His word, holds God's secret about His handiwork. The most advanced student, if ignorant of God as revealed in Christ, knows nothing of it.
These lights press on the conscience because of the darkness around them:
Behold the moon; its light is dim in His holy presence. The sparkling stars are not clean in His sight. How much less is sinful man — a worm of the dust!... The light of the moon and stars is not so strong, yet the darkness around it makes it shine out all the more. This is true above all of the eastern skies over the dry lands beside the deserts. The moon and stars speak of God in a special way, and by contrast bring home to man his nothingness.
The sight of the night sky leads David straight to a question, and the New Testament answers it:
God has such marvellous things before Him as the moon and the stars. Why then does He give such a large place in His mind to man, and to the son of man? All Scripture bears witness to it: man has a place in the thoughts of God that even angels do not have, for all their greater glory and might. How do we explain this? What is the answer to the Psalmist's question? The Spirit of God gives us the answer in Hebrews 2:5-10. There He quotes the words of this psalm and applies them to Christ. He is the man who fills the mind of God; He is the ideal Son of man for whom all dominion is purposed.
- Night. No sun appears in the verse. Commentators differ: one reads it as the night before Christ came, another as the world's night now. Both take the dimmer lights as pointing to a coming day.
- Fingers. Creation shows God's design, forethought and power; it does not show His heart. For that you need His revelation of Himself.
- Faith. Searching the sky does not by itself find God. Someone taught by His word holds a secret of creation that the most advanced student can miss.
- Smallness. Set against the moon and stars, man feels his own nothingness — the very effect David's next line records.
- Answer. Hebrews 2 settles the question: the Son of Man fills God's mind, and God purposes all dominion for Him.
What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
David looks up at the moon and stars, feels how small he is, and asks a question that the rest of the Bible answers. The question has two halves: man, and the son of man. Commentators agree that the second half points beyond David to Christ.
Man is one of the least of God's creatures. One writer puts the question in the psalmist's own voice:
When I think of all the might and the wisdom on display in the heavens, what am I? "What is man" — any man, great or small — "that You are mindful of him? or the son of man" — man in the abstract, the ideal man — "that You visit him?" We might well say that of man as the creature of God. In one sense, by certain measures, he is one of the least of God's creatures.
English hides a distinction the Hebrew makes plain. The first "man" and the "son of man" are not the same term:
What made the psalmist choose two distinct names for man? The English version does not make this distinction plain; but the Hebrew does. Adam means simply man — man as God created him out of the dust of the earth, man before the fall. He is the one "who is the figure of Him who was to come" (Rom. 5:14). Enosh means man as well, but man as frail, fallen, dying, passing away.
The change of word changes the answer. One writer weighs each name in turn:
He used a Hebrew word which has the sense of "frail man" or "mortal man." Well, what is he worth? Clearly he is worth nothing. What then shall we say of the Son of Man? Ah! now we have a very different story. Even in the psalm David changed the word for man, and wrote "the Son of Adam"; and this we know our Lord was, as seen in Luke 3:38. He is worth everything. Though He was once made a little lower than the angels, He is to be crowned with splendour and given complete rule, with all things under His feet.
Scripture puts this question on human lips more than once, and the spirit behind it changes each time. Of Job's version, one writer says it is spoken in a complaining, resentful mood — why does God not leave me alone? The other two are different again:
Then, in Psalm 8, "What is man," that God is going to make His own Son a man, and set Him over everything? … And here, in Psalm 144, it is, "What is man," that God should be so careful over this wicked people?
Where you look decides the answer you get:
The question brings out the littleness of man: the answer the greatness of Christ, the Son of Man. When David looks at the moon and the stars, he feels how small he is beside their vastness, and cries out, "What is man?" Look at man fallen, and he is very small. Look at man as God purposed him, set out in Christ, the Son of Man, and he is very great.
Where the ESV says God cares for man, older translations read that He visits him. One writer asks why man, and not the angels, holds that place in God's thoughts:
How is it that God takes knowledge of us, that He actually visits us? Why is it that the angels do not occupy a place in the thoughts and purposes of God such as man occupies? We ask again, Why? and we find the answer in the blessed Son of God, in Jesus… Man is lower than the angels in the order of creation, so Jesus has taken His place lower than they. And when we ask, Why did He take that place? — in the answer we read our salvation.
The psalm goes on to speak of all things under His feet — a rule the first man was given and threw away:
The Son of man there spoken of is not Adam, but Christ. The divine purpose is there declared to set Him over all the works of God's hand. The first man had this grant of power from God (Gen. 1:26-28), but failed to act for His glory. He sold himself into the hand of the enemy, and became his tool and slave. In God's own time the Second Man will take up the government of the whole world. He will glorify God fully, and bring full blessing to everyone under His rule.
- Question. Under the stars, David asks what a frail, dying creature is worth. By any ordinary measure, nothing.
- Word. David uses two Hebrew words: Enosh, man as frail and passing away, and Adam, man as God made him — a figure of the One who was to come.
- Answer. The question shows the littleness of man; the answer shows the greatness of Christ. Look at man fallen, and he is small. Look at man in God's purpose, seen in Christ, and he is very great.
- Visit. God does not watch man from a distance. Jesus took a place lower than the angels, and in the reason why, we read our salvation.
- Crown. The rule the first man threw away passes to the Second Man. He is to be crowned with splendour, with all things under His feet, and full blessing for everyone He governs.
Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and splendour.
The verse turns from the vastness of the night sky to a single question about man's worth, and answers it with a crown. But the New Testament points to one particular Man as the one crowned here. That changes how we read every word.
The psalm asks who man is that God should think of him. It then describes someone raised to rule over everything. Writers ask who that description is really about.
The title used in the previous line is part of the evidence. It also widens the horizon well beyond one nation.
Its opening sentence, "O Lord our Lord, how excellent is your name in all the earth!" gives the key to its meaning. This is no longer a question of Israel or of the Messiah. The whole earth is in view, and God puts all things under the feet of the SON OF MAN. Since Adam was not the Son of Man, it would be plain, even if we had no further light on the subject, that someone greater than Adam is set before us here.
The Hebrew word behind "angels" is Elohim. That is why some translations read "a little lower than God," and the ESV reads "heavenly beings." One writer weighs the options, leaning on the Septuagint — the early Greek version of the Old Testament — and then shows what the ranking means.
The Revised Version (following the Geneva Bible of 1560) translates Ps. 8:5 "a little lower than God." But "Elohim" (or "God") is often used for "gods," or "mighty ones," and here, as in Ps. 97:7, it clearly means angels. The Septuagint translates it that way, and Heb. 2:7 confirms it… Angels have no Redeemer… We learn from this that angels stand on a higher scale than man, but He passed them by twice. He passed them coming down, when He was made a little lower than the angels; and He passed them again going up.
The psalm sets the lowering and the crowning side by side. Hebrews explains the link between them.
He was made a little lower than the angels so that He could suffer death, and He is crowned with glory and honour. He has suffered death, and He is crowned as the reward for His work. In that work He fully glorified God in the very place where God had been dishonoured, and He saved man — those who believe in Him — where man was lost.
The first man really was given this place. One writer asks what is left of it now.
God put everything under man's hand. Man was the head of God's creation, according to His purpose. But if that was true at creation, we are reminded again that the fall has come in. The sceptre man should have held over all creation has dropped from his hand… He can confess that he is lower than the angels. But when it comes to being crowned with glory and honor over the works of God's hands, if he is honest he has to admit that such lordship is in name only, and is partial.
The picture of rule in the psalm looks earthly. One writer says the gift reaches much further than that.
The first man could not keep the gift of dominion, because he himself became the defeated slave of sin and death. That gift has passed, with a heavenly addition, into the hands of the second Man. In general the language of Psalm 8 describes the rule given in paradise, but it reaches much further than that… God's gift to Him takes in things in heaven as well as things on earth.
Nothing in the world today looks like this verse fulfilled. Writers answer that one half of it is already true, and that half secures the rest.
According to Hebrews 2:6, the prophecy is not yet fulfilled. But in the partial fulfilment of what is still to come, the church holds the pledge of its final completion. Not all things are under Jesus yet. Meanwhile Jesus is already crowned with glory and honour — certain proof that what remains will be fulfilled at the right time.
- Down — He was made lower than the angels for one purpose: to suffer death.
- Crowned — The glory and honour are His reward for that finished work.
- Lost — At the fall this rule slipped from the first man's hand. What he still holds is partial, and in name only.
- Wider — The rule regained reaches things in heaven as well as things on earth.
- Pledge — We do not yet see all things under Him. We do see Him crowned, and that is certain proof of the rest.
Thou hast made him to rule over the works of thy hands; thou hast put everything under his feet
This line hands the whole created world over to one man. Commentators ask two things about it: which man is meant, and why the world does not look like this yet.
The psalm's opening words widen the scene beyond Israel, and the title used is decisive.
This brings us to Psalm 8 — a very important one in the ways of God. Its opening sentence gives the key to its meaning: "O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!" This is no longer a question of Israel or of the Messiah. The whole earth is in view, and God puts all things under the feet of the SON OF MAN. Adam was not the Son of Man. So even with no further light on the subject, it is plain that someone greater than Adam is set out here.
God gave the first man this same rule, and he lost it.
The Son of man spoken of in Psalm 8 is not Adam, but Christ. God's purpose declared there is to set Him over all the works of His hand. The first man had this grant of power from God (Gen. 1:26-28), but failed to act for His glory. He sold himself into the hand of the enemy, and became his tool and slave. In God's own time the Second Man will take up the government of the whole world. He will give God perfect glory, and bring full blessing to all under His rule.
The inheritance He receives is not a clean one.
The Lord takes this title for Himself according to that psalm, after His rejection as King in Zion (Psalm 2), and He takes it in resurrection. He takes the headship and inheritance, with its load of sin and guilt on it; and He inherits it not only as His by right, but by redemption also. He takes it as the Redeemer-Heir.
The world around us does not look ruled by Christ. Commentators answer that His title is already in place.
He humbled Himself as no one else ever could, and He is crowned with glory and honour above all. The crown is given now, but we do not yet see all things put under Him. But unseen by man, He already holds this supremacy in place and title, according to Psalm 8:6 (7). The New Testament refers to that verse three times. His supremacy is so universal that only one is excepted: He who subjected all things to Him. God left nothing outside Christ's rule, as His actual seat on the throne of God, the Father's throne, shows.
How far does "all things" reach? Not every passage covers the same ground.
In Psalm 8, the things put under His feet do not appear to go wider than rule over the whole earth, whatever might have been in the mind of the Spirit… But in the letter to the Ephesians the circle clearly widens to include things in heaven as well as things on earth… His rule will have no limits. It will be as wide as the whole universe, for as Paul teaches, nothing is excepted except Him, God the Father, who put all things under Him (1 Cor. 15:27).
The wait has a purpose. God is bringing others in to share the rule.
Meanwhile, Scripture lets us know that God makes the church one with Him, as the body with its Head, sharing His exaltation over all things. This is why there is delay. As we all know, God is forming the body now, while Christ sits and waits in the heavens… For He will not reign alone. He, the Heir of all things, has joint-heirs. As Romans 8 says… "and if children, then heirs — heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him."
The psalm opens with God's name being majestic in all the earth. That is not yet what we see.
But the name of Jehovah has never yet become majestic in all the earth. Our psalm announces that it will be glorified everywhere here on earth. That will happen when Christ takes the government of the universe… We do not yet see this with our eyes. But by faith we do see Jesus already crowned, the witness and pledge of all the rest (Heb. 2).
- Lost. God first gave this rule over the works of His hands to Adam. Adam lost it by sin and became the enemy's slave.
- Won. The Son of Man in this psalm is Christ. He takes the same inheritance twice over: by right and by redemption, as Redeemer-Heir.
- Given. The title is already His, though we cannot see it. He is crowned now, and only one is excepted: the One who put all things under Him.
- Widened. In the psalm, "all things" reaches as far as the earth. Ephesians widens the circle to heaven as well.
- Shared, then shown. The wait is for the joint-heirs. When Christ takes the government, the psalm's opening line comes true across the whole earth.
Sheep and oxen, all of them, and also the beasts of the field;
Psalm 8 has just said that all things are under the feet of man. Now it starts to name them. It begins with the animals of daily life, the flocks and herds, then moves out to the wild creatures beyond the farm. The list raises two questions the psalm does not answer. Who is this man? And when does he take his place?
The list moves outward, from the animals man already handles to the ones he does not. One writer follows that order and shows how far today's world falls short of it.
The psalm names domesticated animals first — sheep and oxen — then "the beasts of the field," that is, wild animals. To these it adds birds of the air and all sea life. These will all be perfectly subject to the Lord Jesus in the age to come. They were subject to Adam before he sinned. But God did not tell Noah they were subject to him. He said instead, "The fear of you and the dread of you shall be upon every beast of the earth and upon every bird of the heavens, upon everything that creeps on the ground and all the fish of the sea" (Gen. 9:2).
Fear is not the same as subjection. Adam had that place and lost it. Noah was never given it. The psalm still holds it out.
Two men stand behind this psalm. One writer names them both.
God gives the universal dominion over all His works to the man of His counsel, as we find in Ps. 8. So God gave the first Adam, the created man, a universal lordship over this scene, as it came from its Creator's hands. He forfeited it when he fell by sin.
Who receives it instead? Another writer points to the Second Adam, and to His sufferings.
God's purpose was not to establish the first Adam, who had failed, but the Second Adam as Head of creation — and that because of His sufferings. It is because He was made a little lower than the angels that God has made "Him to rule over the works of [His] hands."
On its own, the list looks small: a farmer's authority over livestock and game.
But "all things" reaches past the creatures named. One writer points to a rule no human king was ever given.
Of course, the further statement that all things are put under His feet involves far more than these creatures. All the earth was to come under His dominion, as well as the cattle, the birds, and the fish of the sea. Even when He came down to earth and men asked about paying the temple tax, He could command a fish and it obeyed Him. Daniel never said that the emperor Nebuchadnezzar was given dominion over the fish of the sea (Dan. 2:38)!
Hebrews 2 quotes this psalm and then admits the obvious: the world does not look like this. One writer follows how its author closes that gap.
He quotes the whole psalm, to put the matter beyond question. Then he says: "At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him." Anyone could see that, even the most casual observer. So how was the psalm to be fulfilled? He goes on to show: "But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour." So Jesus is the Man, the Son of Man (which Adam was not), under whom all things will be put.
Does the delay put the promise in doubt?
All things are not yet put in subjection to Jesus. But in the meantime, Jesus is already crowned with glory and honour. That is certain proof that what remains will be fulfilled in due time.
If wild beasts come under Him, the animal world itself must change. One writer links this verse to Isaiah's picture of creation no longer at war with itself.
The ferocity of the wild beasts is restrained, and man's supremacy established. All nature is made subject to the Son of man — the Second Man… So "the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat… and a little child shall lead them" (Isa. 11:6).
- Lost. God gave the first man lordship over every living creature, and he forfeited it by sin.
- Given. God hands it instead to the Second Adam, who receives it because He was made lower than the angels and suffered.
- Wider. Sheep, oxen and wild beasts are the starting point, not the limit. "All things" reaches far past the farm and the field.
- Waiting. We do not yet see this rule. We do see Jesus crowned, and that proves the rest will come.
- Restored. When it comes, the wild animal loses its ferocity, and a child can lead the creatures that now kill.
The fowl of the heavens, and the fishes of the sea, [whatever] passeth through the paths of the seas.
The verse ends a list — sheep, oxen, wild animals, birds, and now the creatures of the sea — that spells out what "all things under his feet" covers. Commentators ask whose feet these are, since the first man given this rule lost it.
The list echoes the charge given at creation. One writer traces that first grant through failure to recovery.
From the first, God made His intention plain: man should rule this whole lower creation. "Have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the heavens, and over every living thing that moves on the earth" (Gen. 1:28). These were God's words to Adam... He failed almost at once. The enemy deceived him. He betrayed himself, and the creation God had set him over, into the enemy's hands. Did that frustrate or set aside God's purpose to put the earth under man's rule? No. The eighth Psalm testifies of a "Son of man," who will inherit all the dominion first entrusted to Adam.
Mentioning sea creatures is not decoration. It rules out the two other candidates Scripture sets over creation.
If David had written simply of man, we might have supposed he meant Adam. But the words "the Son of Man" rule out our first parent. Adam was a man, yet he was not a son of man... Scripture speaks of only three heads — Adam, Nebuchadnezzar, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Adam had universal sway on earth. Nebuchadnezzar ruled only a limited sphere. God put men, birds, and beasts under him (Dan. 2:38), but he had no dominion over the waters and their creatures. So the mention of the fishes in the Psalm rules him out as the one David wrote about.
That reserved authority showed itself once in Jesus' life on earth, over a fish and a coin.
Notice, God did not give Nebuchadnezzar the fish of the sea. Why? Because the Man of Psalm 8 had not yet come, who had the power over the fish of the sea. You must go to the 17th chapter of Matthew for that, where Peter felt troubled and wanted money for the tax. The Lord said to him, "Go to the sea and cast a hook and take the first fish that comes up, and when you open its mouth you will find a shekel" (Matt. 17:27). It was only the Lord Jesus, the Son of Man, who had power over the fish of the sea.
Critics argue that a shepherd could not have written this phrase. One writer turns that around.
But what did David know about the fish of the sea? He was used to looking after sheep! That is how the critics talk. Rather they should ask, what does David's God know about them? Far more than the best of scientific scholars! He made them all. Long centuries ago He made David write those words, "the paths of the seas." Men have only just found out that fish have their paths in the seas, just as we have ours on the land!
The creatures named here mark the psalm's own horizon, but the New Testament widens the circle.
We must not suppose that the things put under the feet of the Son of Man cover the same extent in every scripture that mentions them. In Psalm 8, whatever the Spirit may have had in mind, they do not seem to go wider than dominion over the whole earth... But in the letter to the Ephesians the circle clearly widens to include things in heaven as well as things on earth... His rule will have no limit. It will be as wide as the whole universe. As Paul teaches, nothing is left out except God the Father Himself, who put all things under Him (1 Cor. 15:27).
Nothing in the world today looks like this. Hebrews faces that gap directly.
Who is this "Son of man"? And when will He exercise and enjoy this dominion? Hebrews 2 answers us: "It was not to angels that God subjected the world to come, of which we are speaking... At present, we do not yet see everything in subjection to him. But we see Jesus... crowned with glory and honor." This dominion belongs to the age to come. The One who will exercise and enjoy it is the "Son of man," now crowned with glory and honor.
This rule reaches the animal world itself.
Again, the ferocity of the wild beasts is restrained, and man's supremacy established. To the Son of man — the Second Man — all nature is made subject... So "the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat... and a little child shall lead them" (Isa. 11:6-8).
- Lost. God gave Adam rule over fish, birds and beasts. He failed, and dragged creation down with him.
- Regained. The psalm hands that same rule to a "Son of man." The mention of the fish rules out both Adam and Nebuchadnezzar, and leaves only Christ.
- Proved. He showed that reserved authority over the sea when a fish carried the coin Peter needed for the tax.
- Widened. The psalm's list stops at the earth. Ephesians and 1 Corinthians stretch the same "all things" to heaven and the whole universe.
- Awaited. We do not yet see it — we see Jesus crowned. When He reigns, wild ferocity is held back and the wolf lies down with the lamb.
Jehovah our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!
Psalm 8 ends where it began, with the same cry about the name of the Lord filling the whole earth. Between the two lines stands the Son of Man, crowned and given dominion. So why does a psalm about man's place close by naming God alone?
The last verse repeats the first. What holds the two ends together is the bond that joins God with man.
In all this we are slow learners, but the general thought is plain. No wonder the psalm ends where it begins. The whole is clasped together by the bond that has joined God with man. That bond has made His name excellent in all the earth — and with a glory, too, set above the heavens!
The verse names God twice over. One writer ties both titles — Jehovah, and Adonai, Israel's Lord — to the Son of man.
Psalm 8 is the full result in Christ, shown as Son of man, to the glory of Jehovah, the Adonai of Israel. I have no doubt Christ is owned as such here. So the rule given to man over all things and Jehovah's rule in Israel are joined together. Yet it reaches far wider still, because both are established in the person of the Son of God.
Read as a description of today, the verse does not match what we see.
Today we would have to cry out instead: O Lord our Lord, how dishonoured is Your name in all the earth! There is a reason for this, and our short Psalm identifies the source of the mischief in one word — "man." Having done so, it passes on at once to dwell on the great Person who is going to make the name of the Lord excellent in all the earth — "the Son of Man."
Another writer puts it as a matter of timing, not doubt:
Psalm 8 is not accomplished yet… His name is dishonoured, and His word is questioned and despised. But soon this ancient word of the Spirit will be made good in all places of His dominion.
The psalm could have ended with a king ruling in Zion. It reaches further, and the last line shows how far — not one nation, but everything God's hand has made.
It is not now merely the people of the great King who are blessed. Wherever the children of men live, Jehovah's name, Israel's Lord, is great. Is it now a matter of setting the Christ on His holy hill of Zion? No, it is setting the Son of man, not merely over the children of men, but over everything His hand has created in all places of His dominion. He is set over all the works of His hand, and nothing is left out. There is one exception only: the One who put all things under Him.
Other rulers hold power while their subjects rebel, and in time their names are forgotten. Not so here.
It will not be with the Son of Man as it is with others. They may be raised to a place of authority, and still have those under them in constant rebellion, refusing to submit. The Son of Man will not only have dominion over all; all will be perfectly subject to Him… So when other names are forgotten, His Name will be excellent in all the earth.
Hebrews takes up this psalm and says plainly that the promise is not complete. What we already see is enough to guarantee the rest.
According to Hebrews 2:6, the prophecy is not yet accomplished. But the church already holds a partial accomplishment of what is still to come, and that is the pledge of its final completion. All things are not yet put in subjection to Jesus. In the meantime, Jesus is already crowned with glory and honour — certain proof that the rest will be fulfilled at the right time.
- Name. The psalm opens and closes on the same cry. Everything in between explains how that name becomes excellent in all the earth.
- Man. The psalm traces the trouble in the earth to one word — "man" — and answers it at once with another title, "the Son of Man."
- Subject. Other rulers face constant rebellion. Under the Son of Man, all will be perfectly subject to Him.
- Dominion. His rule is not limited to Zion or to people. It covers everything God's hand has made, with one exception: the One who put all things under Him.
- Pledge. We do not yet see all things under Him. But He is already crowned, and that is certain proof the psalm's last line will one day be plain fact.
(To the chief Musician. Upon Muthlabben. A Psalm of David.) I will praise Jehovah with my whole heart; I will recount all thy marvellous works.
Psalm 9 opens with singing, not sighing. The rest of the psalm deals with enemies, judgment, and God setting things right for the oppressed. So why does praise come first, and who is the "I" who gives his whole heart to it?
One writer sees the same order in many psalms:
This psalm shows the righteous judgment of God. Even so, it begins with vibrant praise, untouched by anything foreign. So we see the end from the beginning. Many psalms follow this pattern. The rejoicing end comes first, then the struggles that led to that end. The psalmist praises God with all his heart: nothing can intrude on this worshipping adoration. He gladly declares all the wondrous works of the Lord, whether in creation, in redemption, or in the new creation.
The same words come back later in the Psalms. One writer draws from them a demand on Christians:
Both the Old and New Testaments show this in their general tone. But to mark how very important it is, we find it stated again and again in plain terms. The psalmist desires more than once to praise Jehovah with his "whole heart" (Ps. 9:1; 111:1; 138:1). And the Christian, with higher privileges and greater responsibilities, is not to fall behind the Jew.
Another writer defines the same words by what they rule out:
The psalmist praises the Lord, not only with lip profession, but with his whole heart — an undistracted heart taken up with its object.
The "wonderful deeds" are the acts that rescued the ones who tell them. And the telling runs from David to Christ:
The psalm begins with an outburst of praise to the Most High — that millennial name of God with which the seventh psalm ended. Israel's tongue is loosed, the whole heart united in this praise. It is Jehovah who now appears as this — the covenant God, the Living and Unchangeable. His wondrous works have made Him known, and those works were the means of Israel's own deliverance. With their newly opened mouth, Israel will declare them. David the Israelite led such songs long ago, and he leads them still. And Christ, the true David whom he pictured, will lead them "in the midst of the assembly," in the days to come.
reason: unsupported claim "deliberate"; passives; 31-word sentence
Jehovah is the covenant name for Israel. Most High is the name that marks the kingdom in power, when heaven and earth are shown to be His.
So who is the "I" of the psalm? One writer hears two voices in it:
Psalm 9 presents to us Jehovah, the Most High. These names of God connect with the Jews, and with the millennial fulfilment of the promises made to Abraham. He delivers the people by judgment from the oppression of the nations, and destroys the wicked. The delivered Jew celebrates this goodness, which has upheld the right and cause of the righteous. The Spirit of Christ speaks fully in this, as having taken up their interests. It is really His right. If the Jew has any, it is through Him. If they say it, He has put the words in their mouth.
A heading word, Muth-labben, stands above the psalm, and commentators differ over it. Some treat it as a musical direction: the term is "supposed to be the name of a tune" (William Kelly). Another writer weighs the language itself, including the reading of the Septuagint, the old Greek translation of the Old Testament:
Muth-Labben is one of the terms in the inspired headings of the Psalms whose meaning is unclear. Scholars have not agreed on a satisfactory meaning for the word. But the best evidence from the language favours the translation "the Death of the" (or His) "Son." The Septuagint gives it as: "Concerning the secret things of the Son."
- Whole heart, first — praise opens a psalm about judgment. The singer already sees the end from the beginning.
- Whole heart, undivided — this is not praise that stops at the lips. It is an undistracted heart, taken up with its object.
- Whole story — the "wonderful deeds" are the acts of deliverance that made God known to those who tell them.
- Whole name — Jehovah is the covenant God. Most High marks the kingdom in power. One act of thanks names both.
- Whole chorus — David led this song. Israel's freed tongue will take it up. Christ will lead it "in the midst of the assembly."
I will be glad and rejoice in thee; I will sing forth thy name, O Most High.
Psalm 9 opens with praise, and this verse tells us what fills it: gladness in God Himself, and song aimed at His name. Two questions follow. Why does joy come first in a psalm about judgment? And why call God "Most High" here?
The psalm names the happy outcome before it tells of the struggle. One writer notes how often the Psalms work this way, and takes the title at the end of the verse as a signpost to where the song is going.
This psalm shows the righteous judgment of God, yet it still begins with vibrant praise, untouched by anything foreign. So we see the end from the beginning. Many psalms follow this pattern. The rejoicing end comes first, then the exercises that led to that end. The psalmist praises God with all his heart: nothing can intrude on this worshipping adoration. He gladly declares all the wondrous works of the Lord, whether in creation, in redemption, or in the new creation. All these are works of majestic power and grace. So he will rejoice and exult in the Lord personally, and sing psalms to His name. Again he gives the Lord the title "Most High." This shows that the end in view is the millennial glory of Christ — a glory that will never give place to any other.
The gladness here is in God Himself, not only in what He has done. That is also what makes His name worth singing to.
The speaker repeats, confirms, and enlarges the song of praise. It is God Himself in whom he rejoices, and whom His works make known; it is His name that he celebrates in psalms. This is indeed the joy of joys. With changeable man it is not so. What He has done is the real showing of Himself, of His nature — and that is what His "Name" means. So we can know Him better than we can know ourselves: for the heart of man, "who can know it?"
The title is not a general word for greatness. One writer traces it back to Genesis, where it is first stated in full, and forward to the millennium.
I have been looking into the force of the Hebrew words for Most High. In the end it clearly refers to God in the millennium as the supreme God then displayed, to the exclusion of what is false. That is the force of the word. He is the One who holds the place of the one true God, above all others and excluding all others, exalted as supreme in government. Jehovah is, as we know, the God who is in relationship with Israel, but He is the supreme God, the Most High. The full statement of the title, and the time of taking it, is in Genesis 14:19-20, 22. Israel's enemies are utterly defeated and handed over to him, and the heir of promise is blessed by Him who possesses heaven and earth. He is supreme, and has taken all things into His possession.
Another writer links this title to Christ, who will hold royal power and priestly grace together.
In the beautiful outburst "I will sing praise to Your name, O Most High" (verse 2), the Psalmist was using a double title in advance. It belongs to God when the promises are fulfilled in the Millennium. The blessings from God to man, and from man to God, will be handled through a mediator in Christ. He alone is able and worthy to bear the double glory of royal power and priestly grace. Yet at the same time this Psalm is a choice treasure for believers to enjoy today. They live in earthly circumstances, even though their calling is heavenly.
The psalm also looks ahead. One writer puts this praise in the mouth of a godly Jew who is still waiting for rescue, and already sure of it.
The godly Jew looks ahead to deliverance from all his enemies by the brightness of the Lord's coming. He recounts the marvellous works of the Lord, and celebrates the praise of Jehovah as the Most High.
- Order. The psalm puts joy first, before it tells of the trouble — the happy end first, then the struggle that led there.
- Object. The gladness is in God Himself, not only in what He did; His works are the real showing of His nature.
- Name. To sing to His name is to celebrate what He has made known of Himself. So we can know Him better than we know our own hearts.
- Title. "Most High" is God as supreme possessor of heaven and earth. Genesis 14 states the title in full, and it points to His supreme rule in the millennium.
- Reach. The song looks to the day when Christ bears royal power and priestly grace together. It is a treasure now for believers whose lives are earthly and whose calling is heavenly.
When mine enemies turned back, they stumbled and perished at thy presence
Psalm 9 opens with praise. This verse gives the reason: the enemies are in retreat, stumbling and perishing. Two questions follow. Who are these enemies? And why does their collapse depend not on an army but on God's presence.
The verse does not say an army beat them. They fall before His presence. One writer sets two days beside each other.
The blessings of the psalm are introduced by the presence of the Lord, and the brightness of His coming in glory. In the days when He was lowly on earth, His enemies "drew back and fell to the ground" in His presence. In the day of His coming glory they will not only stumble at His presence — they will stumble and perish.
So the turning point of Psalm 9 is not a battle. It is a Person.
All that follows in the psalm is the result of Christ's presence. "Your presence" is the key to the psalm.
God Himself is on the scene, so the defeat is not partial. The retreat and the ruin are one movement.
This is righteous deliverance for the righteous: the oppressor has no claim that God's government can recognize. The power is effective, and once the work of deliverance begins, it is carried right through. When the enemies turn back, they stumble and perish, for God is there. Israel can now say, "You have maintained my just cause," and the One who does so clearly sits on the throne.
This falling before God happens elsewhere in Scripture too. One writer lists those moments, then points ahead to the last great enemy.
Scripture gives vivid pictures of the enemy falling and perishing at the presence of God (v. 5), in days when God stepped in to judge. (See Psalm 94; Ex. 14:24-25; John 18:6) Here that falling is anticipated in the ruin and downfall of the great godless, anti-Christian enemy of the last day. (See Rev. 19) The nations will then learn with terror that they are "but men" (v. 20), though they had drunk in and practised the old lie of the serpent, "you shall be as gods."
Another writer reads the enemy's turning back as a set event still ahead, in a coming time of great trouble. A king invades Israel, hears news that pulls him back, and returns only to meet his end.
During the Tribulation, the King of the North will devastate Israel as he passes through the country on his way toward Egypt, Libya and Ethiopia (Dan. 11:40-43). But he will "turn back" (v. 3) when he hears news from the east and from the north, and will rush back to Israel with great fury, but it will be only to meet his end with none to help him (Dan. 11:44). His army will "stumble and perish before Your presence," because at Jerusalem the Lord Jesus will go out to destroy the King of the North and his armies. So He will maintain the right and the cause of the godly remnant of Israel (v. 4), sitting on the throne and judging in righteousness.
This psalm is not preaching good news. It asks for judgment. One writer explains the difference.
To convert the wicked, by the announcement of the grace of God, is the gospel; what we have been reading is something quite different. Once the gospel has run its course, Christ will demand righteous judgment against the world… If God did not carry out judgment, evil would only grow worse and worse, with no comfort for the faithful. God does not carry it out until the evil has reached its full height.
The psalm's order is worth noticing: the song of triumph comes first, then the trouble that produced it.
This psalm shows the righteous judgment of God, yet it begins with vibrant praise, with nothing foreign mixed in. So the end is seen from the beginning. Many psalms follow this pattern. The joyful end comes first, then the struggles that led up to it.
- Presence — "Your presence" is the key to the whole psalm; every blessing in it follows from the Lord being there.
- Preview — in the days when Jesus was lowly, His enemies fell to the ground before Him. His coming glory will do far more.
- Power — the enemy does not just retreat. He stumbles and perishes, because God finishes the deliverance He starts.
- Prophecy — one writer reads the enemy's "turning back" as a coming crisis for Israel, and the Lord Himself ends it.
- Praise — the song stands before the struggle in the psalm, so faith can see the end from the beginning.
For thou hast maintained my right and my cause. Thou sittest on the throne, judging righteously.
The singer looks back on a verdict already given and a throne already occupied. That raises three questions: whose voice is this, which throne is meant, and what should a reader today do with a judgment that has not yet arrived?
The voice in this psalm is not simply David's. One writer names who is really speaking, and what He acknowledges.
Messiah, by the Spirit, speaking in the oppressed faithful few, acknowledges the righteousness of Jehovah in judgment, as He sits on the throne judging right.
One writer treats this throne of righteous judgment as the whole subject of the psalm. He also says why the earth has never produced such a throne itself.
Psalm 9 has one subject: the throne of righteousness that the earth has long wanted to see and never found. The world has refused Christ, the King of righteousness, and has looked for all kinds of substitutes for Him in vain. It must be but in vain! Yet the "desire of all nations" shall come, and shall be found in Him.
The line answers a suspicion that grows whenever evil wins for a long stretch.
The first effect of the presence of the Lord will be to vindicate the godly and maintain their cause. Evil moves forward and wins for a time — at the Cross, during the absence of Christ, and most of all in the last days. That might give the impression that God is either indifferent to evil, or powerless to stop its course. But Christ will be present in glory, and His enemies will be destroyed as a result. This will make it clear that God has not been indifferent to the way men have treated Christ and those who are His. When the faithful few say, "You have maintained my right and my cause," they express not only what is true for themselves, but what is true of Christ.
(Older translations read "my right and my cause"; the ESV has "my just cause.")
This verse describes something Christ Himself did not receive when He was here. One writer calls that contrast a key to the whole way of thinking in the Psalms.
Notice the great difference here. On one side is the celebration of the righteousness of God, sitting on the throne, judging right, and vindicating the righteous man against the oppressor. On the other side is Christ on the cross, who was not vindicated on the earth, but declares Himself forsaken of God… The righteousness that judged the oppressor was carried out by God, who alone is truly righteous and has power. Yet its sphere and measure lay in earthly government, and in telling apart the righteous and the wicked among men, the oppressed and the oppressor… Clearly grasping this difference is a key to the whole way of thinking in the Psalms.
Readers often stumble over psalms that ask God to destroy enemies. One writer answers that the gospel and this demand for judgment are two different things, and that God delays judgment on purpose.
To convert the wicked by announcing the grace of God is the gospel. What we have been reading is something quite different. Once the gospel has run its course, Christ will demand righteous judgment against the world… If God did not carry out judgment, the evil would only grow worse and worse, and the faithful would have no comfort. God does not carry it out until the evil has reached its height.
One writer applies this same truth to the disorder we live among. Notice what happens to us when this one conviction wobbles.
How sad that the disorder we see in the world tends to produce the same disorder even in those who dread and hate it! It works like an infectious disease: the fear of catching it makes you more likely to catch it. How the simple lesson needs repeating in our ears again and again — that "God sits on the throne, judging right." How little we honestly accept this first assumption of faith! And if we hesitate here, the vision fails, the heart sickens and faints, and our strength collapses.
- Throne. The psalm is about the throne of righteousness the earth has long wanted and never found. Every human substitute for the rejected King of righteousness has failed.
- Occupant. The One seated there judges right, and Messiah, by the Spirit in the oppressed, acknowledges that righteousness.
- Verdict. "You have maintained my just cause" answers the fear that God is either indifferent to evil or unable to stop it.
- Difference. This vindication belongs to God's earthly government. Christ on the cross received no such vindication on earth, and one writer calls that difference a key to reading the Psalms.
- Timing. Judgment is not the gospel, and it is not yet. God waits until evil reaches its height. Meanwhile the settled fact that He sits judging right keeps the heart from fainting.
Thou hast rebuked the nations, thou hast destroyed the wicked; thou hast put out their name for ever and ever.
The psalm sings as though the battle is already over. The singer looks back on a judgment God has carried out, and verse 5 sits at its heart. Who are these nations, who is "the wicked," and what does it mean for a name to be wiped out forever and ever?
The verbs are past tense, yet commentators read the psalm as looking ahead. One writer names the place of this judgment and what sets it off:
In these verses the Spirit of Immanuel tells of the faithfulness of Jehovah. He has upheld His cause in judgment by blotting out the Wicked One and his armies forever and ever. Other scriptures place this destroying judgment in the valley of Jehoshaphat (Joel 3). What stirs God's anger at once is the gathering of the nations, under the King who does as he pleases, against the city of Jerusalem.
Another writer names the ground where this judgment falls, and reads "the wicked" as one person:
In Psalm 9:1-7 we find that this judgment falls on the land of Israel. There the Lord will show Himself in this act of power. Verse 5 says, "you have made the wicked (Antichrist) perish; you have blotted out their name forever and ever."
Commentators differ over "the wicked." Some hear one man. Others hear the whole hostile crowd of nations, named powers among them:
The nations — the northern enemy and others too — will be fully rebuked and destroyed for their wickedness. Their name will be blotted out forever (v. 5). As for the enemy (v. 6), his "destructions are finished forever," and You — that is, the Lord Jesus — have destroyed cities, so that even their memory has perished. Babylon the great is clearly one of these (Rev. 19:21).
The same writer says what would happen if God never acted, and when He does act:
If God were not to execute judgment, the evil would only grow worse and worse with no comfort for the faithful. God does not execute it until the evil has reached its height. Antichrist and the nations rise up against God and His Christ, and the earth must be cleared of His enemies to make room for the reign of God Himself.
Blotting out a name goes further than killing a man. One writer links this rescue to a world that forgets the evil and an earth restored:
Nor is this deliverance merely local. It is tied to the judgment of the earth, and to the destruction of the wicked out of it. Even their name is blotted out and disappears. The world changes morally as a result, and hurries in this way to forget them. More than this, the ruin caused by the reign of evil is over. The "times of restitution" have come — summer and fruit for all the earth, with quiet rest under the care of the good Shepherd.
The same act that ends the nations rescues the people they were attacking. One writer keeps both sides of the verse together:
Justice is the dividing line: it destroys the nations while it saves Israel in the Lord. The striking down of the enemies is the long-delayed vindication of Immanuel's claim. Zion turning to Jehovah is what stirs up His anger against the nations that oppress her. By opposing her, they declare themselves His enemies. He is the help and the shield of the remnant of His people. Grace will then reign through righteousness over the people of His mercy. At the same time, justice takes its course in vengeance against those who speak against the Lord.
Readers stumble here because they expect the tone of the New Testament. One writer marks off the gospel from what this psalm is doing:
To convert the wicked by announcing the grace of God is the gospel; what we have been reading is something quite different. Once the gospel has run its course, Christ will demand righteous judgment against the world.
Some read the verse as a picture of the final judgment of the dead. One writer rejects that reading:
This is pure imagination. The passage says nothing about the resurrection of the dead. It speaks of the destruction of living enemies. It says nothing about the great white throne, but about God dwelling in Zion.
- Cause. The nations gather against Jerusalem under a king who does as he pleases. That gathering provokes this judgment.
- Place. The judgment falls on the land of Israel, in the valley of Jehoshaphat. It destroys living enemies. It does not raise the dead before a final throne.
- Timing. God waits until evil reaches its height. If He never acted, evil would only grow, and the faithful would have no comfort.
- Result. The enemy is not just defeated. His name is erased, the world forgets him, and the ruin evil caused gives way to rest and fruitfulness.
- Two sides. One blow destroys the oppressor and saves the oppressed. Justice falls on the enemy; grace reigns through righteousness over God's people.
O enemy! destructions are ended for ever. -- Thou hast also destroyed cities, even the remembrance of them hath perished.
Here the psalm turns from God to the enemy himself. Older translations address him outright: his destructions are ended for ever.
One writer hears the verse spoken over a beaten foe, from a land that is finally quiet.
Verse 6 addresses the defeated Oppressor, now laid low in ruin. Meanwhile the land is quiet and rejoicing. The children of wickedness had wasted its cities. Now it rests secure from all trouble under the lasting shelter of the Lord's name.
Commentators point to a detail that is easy to miss — the number of one word in the verses nearby.
Further effects of the presence of Christ will be the rebuking of the nations and the destruction of Antichrist. The word "wicked" in verse 5 and verse 16 is in the singular and refers to Antichrist, the enemy whose destruction will come to a perpetual end.
One writer answers a question the verse leaves open: who is the "you" who roots out the cities, and which city is in view?
As for the enemy (v. 6), his "destructions are finished forever," and You — that is, the Lord Jesus — have destroyed cities so that even their memory has perished. Babylon the great is clearly one of these (Rev. 19:21).
One writer draws out a principle for faith today, not only for the day it comes true. The enemy's reach has a limit, and the limit is time.
In verse 6 a very important principle is brought out for faith at all times, then to be verified in fact. The efforts of the enemy here are for time. He can destroy, if God allow, present prosperity. The Lord endures for ever. We have only to do His will by the way. He has always His way at the end. That will which we do by the way, perhaps in sorrow and suffering then, will surely reign at the end of the way. Destructions were now to come to a perpetual end — the cities and their memory had been destroyed. Jehovah endures for ever.
The psalm asks for judgment, and that jars against the message of grace. One writer says the trouble comes from mixing up two different works of God.
To convert the wicked by announcing the grace of God is the gospel. What we have been reading is something quite different. Once the gospel has run its course, Christ will demand righteous judgment against the world… If God did not judge, the evil would only grow worse and worse, with no comfort for the faithful. But He does not judge until the evil has reached its height. Antichrist and the nations rise up against God and His Christ. God must clear the earth of His enemies to make room for His own reign.
One writer traces everything in the psalm back to one phrase earlier in it.
All that follows in the psalm is the result of Christ's presence. "Your presence" is the key to the psalm.
The place the enemy leaves does not stay empty:
With Antichrist destroyed and his reign over, Christ will set up His reign. His reign will be a rule of righteousness for the whole world. The oppressed will find a refuge in Christ. Those who trust in the Lord, and seek Him, will find they are not forsaken.
- Addressed — The verse speaks straight to the beaten oppressor. Below him lies a land at rest under the shelter of the Lord's name.
- Singular — "The wicked" here is one person, not a crowd. Commentators name him Antichrist, and count Babylon the great among the ruined cities.
- Temporary — The enemy's power is bounded by time. He may destroy present prosperity if God allows it; he cannot outlast the Lord.
- Delayed — Judgment is not indifference. God waits until evil reaches its height, then clears the earth so His own reign can begin.
- Replaced — The destroyer's end leaves no empty world. Christ reigns: righteousness for all the earth, and refuge for the oppressed.
But Jehovah sitteth for ever; he hath ordained his throne for judgment.
The verse before this one describes an enemy whose power to destroy has run out. Verse 7 turns to the One who remains, and asks what He will do with the power He holds.
Commentators read Psalm 9 and Psalm 10 together, and place both in one specific future time.
The principles of God's government are settled first. Then Psalm 9 and Psalm 10 let us see the circumstances of the godly remnant. They will be under the oppression of Antichrist and the godless nations, in the time just before Christ comes to reign.
That setting explains the tone. This is not the language of the gospel. It is a call for God to act as Judge.
Once the gospel has run its course, Christ will demand righteous judgment against the world. It is no longer Christ at the right hand of the Father, sending down the Holy Spirit to gather together His co-heirs. It is Christ calling for righteousness, and asking for it against the proud and violent men — usually by His Spirit in the humble and lowly ones of the Jewish nation. If God did not carry out judgment, evil would only grow worse and worse, and the faithful would have no comfort.
The verse works by contrast. The enemy's power had a time limit; the Lord is still there when the enemy is gone.
Verse 6 brings out a very important principle for faith at all times, later to be proved true in fact. The efforts of the enemy here last only for a time. If God allows it, he can destroy present prosperity. The Lord endures for ever. We have only to do His will by the way. He has always His way at the end. That will which we do by the way, perhaps in sorrow and suffering then, will surely reign at the end of the way.
Older translations say "shall endure for ever" and "ordained his throne for judgment." The ESV says "sits enthroned forever" and "established his throne for justice." The commentators here use the older wording.
Human government fails at the handover — one ruler is just, the next is not.
It is the rule of the Eternal: while other kingdoms arise and fall, this endures... There is no danger that the line of succession will fail, and no uncertainty from a throne passed through many hands. The glorious Priest-King never resigns His throne or loses it to others. He is Himself the dynasty, and its character will never change... So there is no fear of clashing party interests, or national prejudices, or anything else. One King is King to all, ministering incorruptible justice to all alike.
The throne is established: set up in advance, and set up for a purpose.
"But the Lord shall endure forever" in contrast to the sudden demise of the enemy. This preparation may seem delayed for years. Yet in His own time He will judge the world in righteousness. Today evil seems to have the advantage. But faith can wait for His time, when He will give perfectly fair judgment for the peoples — not only for Israel.
The same throne that terrifies the oppressor shelters the oppressed.
He shall endure for ever — has prepared His throne for judgment. He will judge the whole world in righteousness, and give judgment to the peoples in uprightness. This was the public character of Jehovah. But there was a private part of His character, so to speak... This second part is this: Jehovah is a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. The result is confidence in Jehovah at all times on the part of those who know His name.
Later in the psalm the same writer follows this judgment to its end.
Verse 17 shows the wicked, whoever they may be, and all the nations who forget God, rejected and judged, and given their place in hades by judgment. And in this God remembers the needy, for the destruction of the wicked is their deliverance.
- Endures — the enemy's power runs on a clock; the Lord outlasts him. What you do in His will while suffering will reign at the end of the road.
- Enthroned — no succession, no forfeiting, no change of character. He is Himself the dynasty, so justice never degrades between reigns.
- Established — He prepared the throne in advance, and prepared it for judgment. What looks like delay is timing, not indecision.
- Equity — He judges the whole world, not one nation only. One King to all, giving the same incorruptible justice to everyone.
- Refuge — the public face of that throne is judgment; the private face is shelter. His destruction of the wicked is the deliverance of the needy.
And it is he that will judge the world with righteousness; he shall execute judgment upon the peoples with equity.
Behind this verse stands a throne already prepared, and a judgment that will reach every nation. Two questions press: who is this Judge, and when does He act?
The verse before speaks of the Lord enduring forever. The enemy's power runs out with time. God's does not, and that is why judgment is certain.
The efforts of the enemy here are limited to time. He can destroy present prosperity, if God allows it. The Lord endures forever. We have only to do His will along the way. He always has His way at the end. That will which we do along the way, perhaps in sorrow and suffering now, will surely reign at the end of the way.
The judging in this verse belongs together with the shelter promised in the next. One writer calls these the public and the private sides of God's character.
He shall endure forever — has prepared His throne for judgment. He will judge the whole world in righteousness, and minister judgment to the peoples in uprightness. This was the public character of Jehovah. But there was a private part of His character, so to speak... This second part is this: Jehovah is a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. The result is confidence in Jehovah at all times on the part of those who know His name.
The Hebrew word behind "world" here is not a vague term for everything that exists.
The word usually translated "world" in the Old Testament is tebel, meaning "the habitable earth." It has a limited reach. It points to the sphere that comes more directly under God's dealings (Psalm 90:2), and to the people living there, whom He will judge (Psalm 9:8).
That limit matters. It keeps this verse separate from the judgment of the dead, and it shows what that day will bring.
The day of Jehovah, in its full sense, is that great dealing when God will "judge the world in righteousness by that man whom He has raised from the dead." Those words are a well-known scripture from the New Testament that bears on it. "Judging the world in righteousness" is a completely different truth from judging the dead. It is the habitable world. It does not have in view the resurrection of the people who once lived in it. It is the age... when God will take the world under His direct government — first to put down evil, then to keep and spread what is good.
The psalm says God will judge. The New Testament names the One through whom He does it.
Nearly two thousand years ago the great Apostle of the Gentiles stood in the middle of Mars' Hill in the city of Athens. There he made this solemn declaration: "God commands all men everywhere to repent: because He has appointed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom He has ordained; of which He has given assurance to all men, in that He has raised Him from the dead" (Acts 17:31). From that day to this God has been exercising His patient mercy. But the day of that judgment is appointed, and the Man is appointed too who is to carry it out. The world that judged Him is to be judged by Him.
At the cross the two came apart. This verse promises a day when they meet again on earth.
Now is not the time of Christ's judgment, except as Lord over His people for their good. It is the time of grace to the world... At the cross, infinitely deeper things were worked out, and divine righteousness was established through it. Even so, righteousness was not made good in this world. The opposite happened. Righteousness was found in the person of Christ; judgment in the hands of Pilate, or the chiefs of the Jews. When Christ appears for His kingdom, judgment and righteousness will go together in the earth.
The throne is prepared, but the judgment has not yet come. So faith waits.
It may seem that this preparation has been delayed for years. Yet in His own time He will judge the world in righteousness. Today evil seems to have the advantage. But faith can wait for His time. Then He will give perfectly fair judgment for the peoples — not only for Israel.
- Throne. The seat is already prepared. Judgment is not God reacting late; it is a fixed appointment waiting for its day.
- Scope. The word for "world" means the inhabited earth and the people living on it. This is not the judgment of the dead.
- Judge. The Man God ordained and raised from the dead will carry it out; the world that condemned Him will be judged by Him.
- Timing. Now is the time of grace. When Christ appears, judgment and righteousness — split apart at the cross — come back together on earth.
- Refuge. The Judge of all is also the refuge of the oppressed. Those who know His name can trust Him at all times.
And Jehovah will be a refuge to the oppressed one, a refuge in times of distress.
Psalm 9 has just set a fallen enemy's ruined cities against a throne that lasts for ever. Verse 9 turns from that public throne to a private question: who are "the oppressed," and what does it mean that God Himself, not a place, is their stronghold?
This verse comes right after the promise that God will judge the world in righteousness. One writer reads the two as halves of a single portrait: one side on public display, one known only in private. (Where the ESV says "stronghold," the commentators quoted here say "refuge.")
He shall endure for ever — has prepared His throne for judgment. He will judge the whole world in righteousness, and administer judgment to the peoples in uprightness. This was the public character of the Lord. But there was a private part of His character, so to speak, and the making of it public is the great subject of the psalm... This second part is this: the Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. The result is confidence in the Lord at all times on the part of those who know His name.
Another writer puts the same two sides in one line, and says what finally settles everything.
Whatever damage the enemy does, the Lord sits for ever. And meanwhile He is a refuge for an oppressed one in times of trouble. But Zion is His eventual dwelling, and judgment — not the gospel — settles all questions.
"The oppressed" is not a vague group. Some commentators read the psalm as prophecy. They point to the people in Israel who hold on to God through their darkest days.
The people directly in view in verses 9 and 10 are, I have no doubt, the believing remnant of Israel. They still cling to the Lord's name through the dark and cloudy day of Jacob's trouble. He is their refuge, not forsaking, but in grace preserving, the poor and tried people who confess His name.
The verse does not promise an escape route. It names a Person.
He will deliver Israel from their enemies, but He Himself will be their refuge. Being delivered is wonderful, but having the Lord Jesus Himself as our sanctuary refuge is much better still. Let us too find our great rejoicing not only in His great salvation, but in Himself personally.
Several commentators read this section as looking ahead to the reign of Christ. Oppression ends there because the oppressor is gone.
Antichrist destroyed and his reign over, the reign of Christ will be established. His reign will be a rule of righteousness for the whole world. The oppressed will find a refuge in Christ. Those who trust in the Lord and seek Him will find they are not forsaken.
No one sees this in full yet. Its certainty rests on who spoke it.
Not much is said, but a bright ray shines out. In that future day the Lord will make His name known, so that it becomes the object of confidence and the place of refuge for the needy. What a blessed prospect! Still distant, and only dimly seen; but sure and never-failing, for the mouth of Israel's God has spoken it.
The verse names no particular trouble. One writer draws out what that silence leaves room for.
His name is the refuge of the oppressed — the helper of the needy. No particular need is specified, for whatever it may be, He has a help: even Himself... No oppression is too trifling, no need too great. He who is our refuge knows our frame. He knows the disorder of every little nerve. He can make even a voice or a step an oppression — an oppression so foolish that we hardly admit it to ourselves. Yet we may run from it and hide ourselves in Him, a refuge even from ourselves.
- Throne. The same God who will judge the world in public has a private side too — refuge.
- Meanwhile. Judgment has not yet fallen. Between the damage the enemy does and the day the throne acts, shelter stands open.
- Person. The refuge is not a location or an escape. It is Himself — which is why rescue is wonderful but having Him is better.
- Reach. The verse names no trouble, so it shuts none out — not the crushing kind, and not the small pressure you feel silly admitting.
- Confidence. Those who know this name trust Him at all times. He does not forsake those who seek Him.
And they that know thy name will confide in thee; for thou, Jehovah, hast not forsaken them that seek thee.
This psalm celebrates a throne set up for judgment, enemies overthrown, and God reigning forever. In the middle of that public power comes a quiet line about knowing God's name and leaning on Him — so what does it mean to know that name?
One writer sets the psalm's public scene of judgment beside a more personal side of God.
He will judge the whole world in righteousness, and judge the peoples fairly. This was the public character of Jehovah. But there was a private part of His character, so to speak, and the making of that public is the great subject of the psalm... This second part is this: Jehovah is a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. The result is confidence in Jehovah at all times on the part of those who know His name.
The word "name" here is not a label. One writer takes it as God showing us what He is.
His name is how we know Him; it shows what He is. God wants us to know Him: to know Him so that we may trust Him, and to know Him so that we may delight in Him. This knowledge of God is all power and blessing for our life here. It awakens the worship of eternity and keeps it alive.
The verse puts knowing before trusting. One commentator traces unbelief back to its root:
The natural man cannot trust God, simply because he does not know Him.
The same writer paints the opposite picture: a person who does know God.
But you must know Him before you can trust Him... Those who do not know God would much prefer an insurance policy or a government annuity to His promise. But the true believer finds in that promise the unfailing stay of his heart, because he knows, and trusts, and loves the Promiser. He delights in the thought of being shut up to God, completely dependent on Him... The very thing that would nearly drive an unbeliever out of his mind is to the Christian — the man of faith — the deepest joy of his heart.
"Put their trust" is not a mood or a hopeful feeling. One writer describes it as an act that hands something over:
Those whom God has awakened to know the name of the Lord Jesus will put their trust in Him. That is, they hand over their very interests, firmly and for good, to this One who is more than worthy of their trust (v. 10). For they realize that He does not forsake those who seek Him.
Then comes the reason: He has not forsaken those who seek Him. That turns the promise into something a person can test. One writer explains:
This is not just a theory. There is no gap between the ideal and the real. All His people know it by experience, and their own hearts confirm it.
God's name is His revelation of Himself, so what has He revealed? One commentator says a general belief in a supreme being is not enough:
It is not enough to know that there is an Almighty God above all things. You must know the secret place where He truly reveals Himself. True faith has it... God reveals His name to faith. To us it is Christ as Lord, and the Father. So faith confesses His name and makes it its refuge and strong tower. Faith also trusts in it. That is a great thing: no power of evil and no distress can upset the mind of anyone who looks to the Lord and trusts Him.
The psalm also looks ahead. One writer sees a shaft of light breaking through its scenes of judgment:
Jehovah's name shall, in that future day, be so made known that it shall be the object of confidence and the place of refuge to the needy. A blessed prospect! It is still far off and only dimly seen. But it is sure and never-failing, for the mouth of Israel's God has spoken it.
- Name. God's name is not a label. It shows what He is. He makes Himself known so that we may trust Him and delight in Him.
- Know. Knowledge comes first. The natural man cannot trust God, because he does not know Him. A vague belief in a supreme power is not the knowledge meant.
- Trust. Knowing Him leads to handing your whole interest over to Him for good. The dependence that terrifies unbelief becomes the believer's deepest joy.
- Proved. The second half of the verse gives the evidence. This is no theory. His people have proved it: He has not forsaken those who seek Him.
- Refuge. God has a public throne of judgment. He also has a private character as a hiding place in trouble. A coming day will make that name a refuge for the needy everywhere.
Sing psalms to Jehovah who dwelleth in Zion; tell among the peoples his doings.
The psalm has been celebrating a throne set up in judgment. Now it turns outward: sing, and tell. Why is the song tied to Zion? And who are the "peoples" who must hear what God has done?
Commentators place this song at the end of the age, after the rejected Messiah takes His throne. One writer sets that against what follows His glorification in the New Testament.
There is a striking difference here from the New Testament and its links of truth. There, the glorification of the rejected Messiah is followed by the formation of the church, His body. Here it brings in at once the troubles at the end of the age, which lead to His setting up His throne in Zion. Jehovah is the covenant name for Israel… But Zion is His eventual dwelling, and judgment (not the gospel) settles all questions.
"Jehovah" is the covenant name behind "the LORD" in this verse. The call to praise Him rests on a fact: He has settled in Zion. One writer describes what His rule there is like.
Jehovah dwells in Zion, and His rule has all the character of divine beneficence. Man is no longer a stranger and an exile from God. The earth has returned to her orbit and circles round her central sun.
His throne there replaces another throne, and it answers a long wait for justice.
Praise now arises to the Lord who dwells in Zion. His doings are to be declared among the nations. The name of the city will in that day be "The Lord is there" (Ezekiel 48:35). The families of the earth will acknowledge it by that name, and they will remember and turn to the Lord. But the seat of Jehovah's government will stand upon the ruins of the throne of iniquity. Judgment that avenges the blood of His saints will mark His promised return, when He comes with mercies for Jerusalem.
So the city is named after the One who lives there — and He is the reason for the song.
The word for "peoples" in this verse is not the one usually used. One commentator explains the difference, and says what the telling is for.
Jehovah dwells in Zion, and there He reveals Himself in this way. His doings — what He does to display His name through judgment in favour of the remnant — are to be declared among the peoples. This is a different word from the one often used. It means, I believe, the peoples that He owns, so that they may be able to trust in Him.
So the goal of the telling is not the victory itself. It is the trust that the victory makes possible.
The ones who sing are the ones God rescued. Their own history is the evidence they carry.
Israel is the natural witness of all this in her own experience. By her deliverance she will "tell out His deeds among the peoples" — the nations brought at last to be His own. The persecution even to death of the chosen nation He has now remembered: their cry has come up into His ears. Now He dwells in Zion, and forever. The wings that long ago would have sheltered them are now spread over them. They are at rest in the love that has drawn them near.
The verse looks ahead to a coming day. Even so, writers apply it straight to anyone who trusts God now.
Those who dwell in Zion (the millennial name of Jerusalem) are told to sing praises to the Lord. This is surely true for all who have put their trust in Him. How can they hold back willing, wholehearted praise and thanks? And if we are truly praising the Lord, then we shall be glad to "declare His deeds among the people."
Another writer pushes the comparison further. If believing Jews at the end of the age can sing about a rescue still to come, those who already know God's grace have more reason to sing.
We have no doubt that what is written here will comfort that company of believing Jews at the end of the age. They look ahead in faith to what will be when the King comes. But how much more should we, His heavenly people, praise Him and declare His wonderful works in grace.
- Dwelling. The song starts where God settles: He takes up residence in Zion, and man "is no longer a stranger and an exile from God."
- Rule. That dwelling is a throne, and God sets it "upon the ruins of the throne of iniquity." Praise rests on judgment done, not on judgment hoped for.
- Declaring. The news goes out "among the peoples that He owns" — told to win trust, not just to report a victory.
- Witness. God rescued them, and now they carry the news. Israel is "the natural witness of all this in her own experience."
- Now. Commentators apply the call to today. If those still waiting for the King can sing, those who know His grace have more reason to sing and to tell.
For when he maketh inquisition for blood, he remembereth them; the cry of the afflicted ones hath he not forgotten.
Verse 11 calls God's people to sing in Zion and to tell the nations what He has done. Verse 12 gives the reason: God tracks down blood that was spilled, and He still hears the people crushed by it.
One writer ties that call to praise to what follows: God cares for His own glory and for the freeing of people who trust Him. (The quotes below say "the cry of the humble"; that is an older translation of what the ESV calls "the cry of the afflicted.")
Those who dwell in Zion (the name of Jerusalem in the coming thousand-year kingdom) are told to sing praises to the Lord (v. 11)... And if we truly praise the Lord, we will be glad to "declare His deeds among the people." For He does indeed remember His own when He avenges. This touches His personal glory and the glory of God, yet He also cares about setting free those who trust Him. "He does not forget the cry of the humble."
Where the ESV says "he who avenges blood," older translations say God "makes inquisition for blood" — a picture of God investigating a murder. One writer hears that cry going up from people killed in a coming day of persecution.
A power that has turned away from God always persecutes God's people. When the abomination of desolation stands in the holy place, everyone must bow or die. Who are the souls under the altar in Revelation 6:9-11? They are without doubt those who will suffer under antichrist for the word of God and for their testimony. From oppressed hearts the cry will go up, "O Lord, how long?" and the cry is heard. "When He makes inquisition for blood, He remembers them; He forgets not the cry of the humble" (Ps. 9:12).
Earlier verses set God on a throne to judge the world. One writer sees a second, quieter side of God here, and calls it the real subject of the psalm.
He will judge the whole world in righteousness, and He will judge the peoples uprightly. This was the public character of Jehovah. But He also had a private side to His character. Making that side public is the great subject of this psalm — and, together with that first public side, the great subject of all the psalms. Faith alone knows both, and faith celebrates them in advance. This second part is this: Jehovah is a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble.
God's remembering has an outcome. One writer sees Him returning to Jerusalem to repay those who shed His people's blood, and takes the wording as a general rule that here points at one group in particular.
God's seat of government will be set up on the ruins of the throne of wickedness. Judgment that repays those who shed the blood of His saints will mark His promised return with mercy to Jerusalem. The words of verse 12 do carry a general principle (Rev. 6:10). But here they apply less to Christians as a whole, whose calling is to suffer, than to those who will be killed in Judea in the last days of blasphemy against Christ, because they hold to the name of Jehovah, while all the rest of the world worships the beast and his image.
A whole later book of the Psalms cries out for God to step in. One writer treats David's words here as the answer, given long in advance.
The cry for deliverance in this third book has been earnest (74, 79, 80, 83, 85, 88, 89). Will it go up and get no answer? "He forgets not the cry of the humble," wrote David (Ps. 9:12). The remnant of the nation will experience the truth of that with joy. Everyone will then see that David had not misrepresented his God.
- Remembers. God keeps a record. He has not lost the blood spilled against His people, and He has not forgotten their cry.
- Investigates. God searches out bloodshed like a case to be tried. The souls in Revelation 6 cry "O Lord, how long?" — and that cry is heard.
- Shelters. God judges the world in public. He also has a quieter side, which this psalm makes known: a refuge for the oppressed in times of trouble.
- Reaches. Because God remembers, Zion praises Him and tells the nations what He has done. His own glory and the freeing of those who trust Him move together.
- Vindicates. One day God will answer in full the cries that fill the later psalms. Then everyone will see that David told the truth about his God.
Be gracious unto me, O Jehovah; consider mine affliction from them that hate me, lifting me up from the gates of death
The psalm has been all praise — enemies turned back, God on His throne, the needy not forgotten. Then comes a plea for mercy: why does the cry follow the song, and what is it to be lifted from the gates of death?
The order looks backwards. But the man praying already knows the outcome, so he prays from inside a settled hope.
It seems strange that after such praise to God for His help and blessing, the psalmist pleads for the Lord's mercy. But this happens often in the Psalms. The experience is written down after God has already declared how it ends. This encourages us. However hard our experiences may be, God decreed from the beginning that the end would be the greatest blessing. The psalmist feels deeply the trouble that those who hate him cause, and he asks God to look at it — the God who lifts him up from the gates of death. But he asks this not only for his own relief. He asks so that he may tell all God's praise in the City of Zion, and rejoice in God's salvation.
He does not just ask, "Get me out." He asks, "Get me out so I can praise You where Your people gather."
Picture a man standing at the entrance to the grave. Writers point to a second gate in the psalm, and the swap between the two means more than escaping death.
Here we have the experience of Jacob's hour of trial once again. The cry comes from the very "gates of death," though with the confidence born of what they have already looked forward to. Yet they expect to trade this gaping shadow for the "gates of the daughter of Zion," and to praise Jehovah there, glad in His salvation. This is surely no mere earthly rescue... What deliverance means to the hearts of these worshipers is a praise that Messiah Himself will lead.
Notice what the sufferer appeals to. He does not argue that he deserves rescue. He asks for grace. Commentators tie the cry to the remnant — the faithful few in Israel in the last days.
Verses 13 and 14 are the cry of the remnant, and they rest on the ground of mercy. They cry so that their hearts may praise Jehovah in Zion, and also because of His judgments. Verse 15 celebrates the judgment... People know Jehovah by the judgment He carries out... In this God remembers the needy, because the destruction of the wicked is their deliverance. So the cry of the remnant is for Jehovah to arise.
God answers the cry only after the one crying admits where he stands. That admission is part of what the "gates of death" mean here.
Verses 13, 14 express the cry of the beloved out of the low dungeon of death. Israel must come to admit their condition: they have destroyed themselves, and death is appointed to them. Only then can their cry enter the ears of the Lord of Hosts (Hosea 13:9; 14:1). But that cry will certainly rise, and He will hear it — He who waits to be gracious, and in whom is the help He has promised them.
The psalm looks ahead to the last days. But its words are not locked away from believers now.
This Psalm is a rich treasure for believers of this present age to enjoy, who live in earthly circumstances even though their calling is heavenly. We can have no doubt what these words point to: "See my affliction from those who hate me, O you who lift me up from the gates of death" (verse 13).
The same writer says why a Christian reading this cry thinks of Christ:
The Christian sees in Christ the One who passed through hard circumstances Himself, and who always shows His rich sympathy with His people in their affliction, in every age.
- Mercy — the plea rests on grace, not on the sufferer's record. Commentators call it a cry made "on the ground of mercy."
- Gate — he cries from "the gates of death," the low dungeon, with enemies all around and no help but God.
- Lifted — he calls God by what He does — the One who lifts people up from that gate. The name itself is part of the plea.
- Zion — rescue is not the goal in itself. The gates of death give way to "the gates of the daughter of Zion," where the praise is sung.
- Order — the psalm sings first and cries second. So we pray from a settled end: God fixed the outcome before the trouble began.
That I may declare all thy praise in the gates of the daughter of Zion. I will be joyful in thy salvation.
Verse 14 gives the reason for the plea before it: the psalmist wants God to lift him from death's gates so he can praise Him in another gateway. He asks not just for rescue, but for a public place of thanks in Zion — a hope commentators tie to a whole people, not one man only.
The order looks backwards: praise first, then the plea for mercy. One writer explains why.
It seems strange that after such praises to God for His intervention and blessing, the psalmist now pleads for the Lord's mercy. But this is often the case in the Psalms. The Psalms record these experiences after God has already declared the end He has in view. That encourages us. However hard our experiences may be, God has decreed from the beginning that the end will be greatest blessing. The psalmist feels deeply the trouble caused by those who hate him. He pleads for God's consideration — the God who lifts him up from the gates of death. But he asks this not only for his own relief. He asks it so that he may tell all God's praise in the City of Zion, and rejoice in God's salvation.
The verse sets two gateways side by side, and the exchange between them is the whole point.
Here we have the experience of Jacob's hour of trial once again. The cry comes from the very "gates of death," though with the confidence born of what they had already looked forward to. Yet they expect to trade this yawning shadow for the "gates of the daughter of Zion." There they will praise Jehovah, rejoicing in His salvation — and surely not in a rescue for this life only. We have seen already (Ps. 6) what death is linked with in their minds. Deliverance from it carries the same weight for the hearts of these worshippers — and Messiah Himself will lead their praise.
One writer answers two questions here: who is praying, and on what ground they ask.
Jehovah dwells in Zion, and there He reveals Himself. His doings — what He does to display His name through judgment in favour of the remnant — must be declared among the peoples, so that they may be able to trust Him... Verses 13, 14 are the cry of the remnant. They ask on the ground of mercy, so that their hearts may praise Jehovah in Zion, as well as because of His judgments.
Commentators read the "I" here as standing for more than one person. The one who prays must first admit how far down he has come.
Verses 13, 14 express the cry of the beloved out of the low dungeon of death. Israel must first admit their condition: self-destroyed and appointed to death. Only then can their cry enter the ears of the Lord of hosts (Hosea 13:9; 14:1). But that cry will surely arise, and He who waits to be gracious will hear it... The spirit of praise will clothe the restored nation on the day of the Lord's deliverance. They will be Jehovah's people, and He will own them and be their God (Ezek. 37:23). In Zion, the chosen city of solemn feasts, the glad notes of His perfect and lasting praise will then ring out.
Another writer puts the same movement in a single line, tying the mercy asked for to the place where the praise will be paid.
This praise and testimony will be rendered by the persecuted and afflicted remnant, to whom the Lord will show mercy in lifting them up from the gates of death to show forth the praise of the Lord in the gates of Zion.
The psalmist promises praise while the trouble is still on him. One writer explains the order faith follows.
Faith grasps the reality first. Then we see the actual circumstances, and out of them faith looks on to the fulfilment of precious promises — promises as sure as if they were already fulfilled... such Spirit-given glimpses into that then so near future strengthen their faith. It is the bright fulfilment of the longings and prayers of one generation of believers after another, who died with its light glowing in their faces. And this hope too is ours.
- Cry. The prayer rises from the lowest point — "the low dungeon of death." Only those who admit their true condition pray it.
- Mercy. They ask on the ground of mercy alone. God "waits to be gracious."
- Lifting. The rescue is a move from one gateway to another: out of death's gates, into the gates of Zion.
- Zion. The praise has an address. It sounds in the chosen city, is declared among the peoples so they may trust Him, and is led by Messiah Himself.
- Now. Faith sings the last verse first — the promise is as sure as if already fulfilled, and this hope belongs to us as well.
The nations are sunk down in the pit [that] they made; in the net that they hid is their own foot taken.
This verse shows a hunter's trap sprung backwards: the trappers fall into their own pit and are caught in their own net. Is that poetic irony, or a fixed rule of how God governs the world?
The Hebrew word behind "pit" means a trap set to catch animals, not just a hole in the ground.
Shachath: "a pit, a pitfall to entrap animals," a place of doom and corruption. Job 33:18; Ps. 9:15; Ps. 35:7; Ezek. 28:8.
The trap was deliberate and hidden. And nobody else built it.
The nations sink into a pit their own hands have prepared, and are taken in the net they have hid for their own entanglement. And this is Jehovah's judgment, the unswerving ways in which He makes Himself known.
This reversal has already happened once in Israel's history, and it will happen again.
God knows how to turn man's evil back upon himself. He did this with Haman in the Book of Esther (Esther 7:6-10), and it will be so with nations who attack Israel in the tribulation period (Dan. 11:40-45). This is perfectly righteous government (v. 15).
The same reversal shows up in another story of plotted cruelty.
The aim in such plots is of course to do harm to another. But "whatever a man sows, that he will also reap."… Jezebel had Naboth murdered by cunning cruelty. But the poor deluded woman was little prepared for her own end: thrown from a window, trampled by horses, and eaten by dogs (1 Kings 21; 2 Kings 9:30-37).
The verse names no crime. One writer points to the target — God's sanctuary in Zion, in Jerusalem.
The nations planned the destruction of Jehovah's sanctuary. Their thought had been, "Let her be defiled, and let our eye look upon Zion." But the shame they hoped to gloat over suddenly became their own lasting portion.
The nations go down. God's people go the other way.
In contrast to the godly, who are raised up for blessing, the nations sink down in the pit they have made. By rebelling against Christ they have sealed their doom. They refused to be reconciled to God, and now He makes Himself known through judgment.
Darby traces the flow of these verses and shows what the judgment means for the needy.
Verses 13 and 14 are the cry of the remnant. They plead on the ground of mercy, so that their hearts may praise Jehovah in Zion, and also because of His judgments. Verse 15 celebrates the judgment, and the lesson is told in verse 16. Jehovah is known by the judgment which He executes… And in this God remembers the needy, for the destruction of the wicked is their deliverance.
Songs like this trouble many readers. The trouble comes from mixing up two different things God does at two different times.
In verses 15–20 this is not the language of the gospel. It is the prophetic expectation — the righteous demand — of judgment. This explains the difficulties Christians often find in the Psalms. They come from not understanding the difference between the ways God deals with people at different times. To convert the wicked by announcing the grace of God is the gospel. What we have been reading is something quite different. Once the gospel has run its course, Christ will demand righteous judgment against the world… If God did not carry out judgment, evil would only grow worse and worse, and the faithful would have no comfort. God does not carry it out until evil has reached its height.
- Trap — The pit is a hunter's trap, dug on purpose to catch someone else. The plot was hidden, and aimed at God's sanctuary in Zion.
- Turned — The same hands that dug the pit did all the damage. No one else is to blame.
- Rule — This reversal is not luck. It is righteous government, already seen in Haman's gallows and Jezebel's window.
- Two directions — God raises the godly up and the nations sink down. The same act that destroys the wicked delivers the needy.
- Timing — This is a prophetic demand for judgment, not gospel preaching. Grace calls the wicked now. God waits until evil reaches its height.
Jehovah is known [by] the judgment he hath executed the wicked is ensnared in the work of his own hands. Higgaion. Selah.
Psalm 9 looks ahead to the day when God judges the nations and clears His oppressed people. Verse 16 draws the lesson: God makes Himself known, the wicked fall into their own trap, and the music stops for a marked pause — "Higgaion. Selah."
One writer traces the psalm's flow: first the cry of the remnant — the faithful few left in Israel — then the celebration of judgment, then the lesson in verse 16:
Verses 13 and 14 are the cry of the remnant, asking on the ground of mercy that their hearts may praise Jehovah in Zion, as well as because of His judgments. Verse 15 celebrates the judgment. The moral, so to speak, is told in verse 16. Jehovah is known by the judgment which He executes. It is clear how this psalm serves as an introduction to the scope of the whole book and its application to the last days.
The writers quote an older translation: "The Lord is known by the judgment which He executes." One writer points to Egypt, whose king refused to acknowledge the God who spoke to him:
Pharaoh said he did not know the Lord, but Pharaoh had to know Him (Ex. 5:2; Ex. 9:14). If Pharaoh would disown Him in goodness, he had to know Him in righteousness. His judgments were now to be shown, and "the Lord is known by the judgment which He executes." As His holy prophet says to Him, "When your judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world learn righteousness." God would be known in grace; but if Egypt refuses that lesson, she must know Him in the raised hand of power.
The same principle is applied to the future. Judgment, not preaching, is what finally reaches the nations:
Not by the gospel, or any such testimony of long-suffering and grace on the part of God, will Israel and the nations be reached. "The Lord is known by the judgment which he executes" (Ps. 9:16).
The second half of the verse shows how judgment falls: not by an outside weapon, but by the man's own scheme. One writer points to Haman, who built a gallows for Mordecai and died on it himself.
God knows how to turn man's evil back upon himself. He did this with Haman in the Book of Esther (Esther 7:6-10), and it will be so with nations who attack Israel in the tribulation period (Dan. 11:40-45). This is perfectly righteous government (v. 15). Nations will be caught in their own net, and will find in painful experience that God is revealed in the judgments He executes.
Because the trap is self-made, no one else carries the blame. One writer uses this verse to answer the charge that God enjoys tormenting people. He points inside a prison:
Look at the tormented mind, the accusing conscience, the bitter remorse that so often fills the minds and consciences of the prisoners with sharp pain. Would anyone in his right mind accuse the king of torturing his prisoners on purpose? Certainly not. It is the memory of their own evil deeds, and the consequences they live with hour by hour, that torment them. They torment themselves.
In the older translation the word stands in the singular here — one wicked man. One writer names him, and separates him from the many in the next verse:
By their rebellion against Christ they have sealed their doom, and the God to whom they refused to be reconciled is made known through judgment. Antichrist is the "wicked" of verse 16, and the nations that follow him are the "wicked" of verse 17.
Note that the ESV renders it in the plural: "the wicked are snared in the work of their own hands."
The verse ends with a word left untranslated. One dictionary traces it through the rest of the Psalms:
A Hebrew word that occurs four times, but in the older English translation it is left untranslated only once. That is here in Psalm 9:16, where the margin note reads "that is, meditation." Some think it refers to a musical sign or instrument. Literally it means "the sound of a harp when struck." In Psalm 19:14 the word is translated "meditation"; in Psalm 92:3, "solemn sound"; and in Lam. 3:62, "device."
Here it works as a call to stop and think:
The nations sink into a pit their own hands have prepared, and are caught in the net they hid, which ends up entangling themselves. This is Jehovah's judgment, the unchanging way in which He makes Himself known. Higgaion: here is "meditation" for anyone who will not refuse it. Let them "ponder in their own hearts on their beds, and be silent."
One writer takes the principle to its highest case — the cross:
We are told, "The Lord is known by the judgment which He executes" (Ps. 9:16), and this was above all true at the cross. In the judgment executed there against sin God came to light on behalf of man in love. That blow of divine wrath against sin rent the veil and revealed the heart of God.
- Known. The verse is the moral of the whole psalm: God does not stay hidden — He is made known by the judgment He executes.
- Known in grace first. Pharaoh refused to know God in goodness, so he came to know Him in righteousness. The offer comes before the sentence.
- Known by self-made ruin. The trap is the man's own work. Haman hangs on Haman's gallows, and no one else carries the blame.
- Known at the cross. The heaviest judgment against sin fell there, and it revealed the heart of God in love.
- Known, so pause. "Higgaion" means meditation. The psalm stops the music and asks the reader to sit with all four.
The wicked shall be turned into Sheol, all the nations that forget God.
This verse closes a psalm about God judging the nations that crushed His people. It raises two hard questions: what is Sheol, and why is forgetting God enough to send a whole nation there?
One writer reads the verse as the close of a judgment scene. He notes who falls under the sentence, and who is rescued by it.
In verse 17 the wicked — whoever they may be, Jew as well as Gentile, and above all the Jew — and all the nations who forget God are shown to be rejected and judged. Judgment gives them their place in hades. And in this God remembers the needy, for the destruction of the wicked is their deliverance. This is why the cry of the remnant is for the Lord to arise.
Older translations put "hell" here, where the ESV keeps the Hebrew word Sheol. One commentator says what Sheol is, and what it is not.
Though their end is decided, this is not yet the final end — the lake of fire. Sheol is simply the unseen. Death separates spirit and soul from the body, so that spirit and soul are then in an unseen state, no longer allowed any place on earth. The Old Testament says little about the lake of fire. That awaits the solemn results of the great white throne, when God will find all unbelievers guilty and banish them to the lake of fire (Rev. 20:11-15). Notice, however, that "the nations that forget God" will suffer the same fate as the wicked. Simply forgetting God — leaving Him out of one's life — is decisive as to eternal judgment.
So this verse is not the last word. Another writer explains what still lies ahead, and who chose it.
Final it is, as far as the world goes, but not yet the full eternal judgment which the New Testament reveals. For that, Sheol or hades must give up its dead. It holds them only as prisoners awaiting trial. Then the "resurrection of judgment" brings them to "the great white throne", where each one receives his own sentence (Rev. 20)… It is the doom of those who have chosen to forget God… The portion they have chosen they will have — yes, and must have, because they have chosen it, not because He has chosen it for them.
One writer reads the verse against the last days. He names two groups caught in the same judgment.
Antichrist is the "wicked" of verse 16. The nations that follow him are the "wicked" of verse 17. Both are turned into Sheol, together with all the nations that forget God — the nations outside Antichrist's reach.
Another sees the point of the verse as the levelling of every distinction between oppressors, whatever their background.
These wicked ones are judged along with the nations; they all come together under the same judgment.
Forgetting sounds like a slip of memory. One writer shows what the verse claims about God, and then why we forget in the first place.
This shows two things clearly. First, that wickedness is going to get its appropriate punishment. Second, that God is not going to allow anybody to push Him out of mind and remembrance.
Sin always brings suffering with it. The sorrow and suffering that follow are sometimes seen in this life. They always follow, with dread certainty, in the life to come. Just because this is so, and because deep down we know it is so, we do not like to think of God. We dismiss Him from our thoughts as far as we can. And by succeeding in forgetting Him, we seal our doom.
God gives this warning ahead of time for a reason. One writer sets the coming judgment beside what has already come.
God knows what is coming, and He has told us exactly what it is, so that we may be warned and escape it. But more, He has told us of something that has come — and what is that? Salvation! A Saviour! A day of judgment and a day of wrath is coming, but a Saviour has come, and you may have that Saviour.
- Forgetting — leaving God out of your life is enough to seal your doom. God will not allow anyone to push Him out of mind.
- Choosing — those who forget receive the portion they chose, not a portion chosen for them.
- Sheol — the word means the unseen state, not the lake of fire. It holds the dead as prisoners awaiting trial.
- Reaching — one sentence covers single people and whole nations alike. Its other side is rescue: destroying the wicked delivers the needy.
- Escaping — God warns us early on purpose. Judgment is coming, but the Saviour has already come.
For the needy one shall not be forgotten alway; the hope of the meek shall not perish for ever.
Psalm 9 has just announced judgment on the wicked and on the nations that forget God (v. 17). Verse 18 turns that around: the people the world overlooks are the people God will not overlook, however long His silence lasts.
The verse picks up the word "forget" from the line before it. One writer sets its two uses side by side:
The nations may forget God, but God will not forget the needy and the poor among the nations. Their deliverance will come through the destruction of the wicked.
In this psalm the rescue of the poor and the fall of the oppressor are one event, not two.
The psalm admits that the waiting feels endless. It denies that it is. One writer takes up the psalm's own words — "needy," "meek," "expectation" — and presses the doubt as far as it will go:
God's people may indeed be the "needy," with no spirit of self-assertion. They hardly even turn, like the worm under the foot that treads on it — they are the "meek." Yes, but that is because it is not their despair but their "expectation" that quiets them. "My soul, wait in silence for God alone," is the reminder with which they hold themselves steady. Shall they be forgotten for ever, though for a time it seems so? Shall such expectation come to nothing? Will God disappoint those who have no hope but in Him? No — it is impossible to entertain the thought.
So where do the forgotten stand while the world runs on? One writer places the verse inside God's settled way of governing:
In verses 17, 18 we have a more general expression of the moral order of God's government. The Judge of all the earth will do right (Gen. 18:25). He will avenge His own name in holiness upon those who speak against Him. He will glorify it in the rich fulfilment of His people's hope... Meanwhile, God writes the poor and needy, who think upon the LORD's name, in the book of His remembrance. He is no careless listener to the speech of those who comfort one another in His fear, until the tyranny of wickedness is past.
One government does both. It judges those who forget God, and it fulfils the hope of those the world forgot.
Who are the needy? One writer describes them as people opposed by men and nations that count themselves strong:
How often the needy seem forgotten. Men and nations who consider themselves strong oppose them. But the needy will not always be forgotten, and they have title to an expectation that will not perish (v. 18). It is the Lord who puts the cry into their lips: "Arise, O LORD, do not let man prevail" (v. 19). There is no possibility that He will not answer. Indeed, we may rightly translate the word "man" as "frail man." His boasted strength is nothing but frailty.
Note the word "title." Their expectation is a right they hold, not a mood they work up.
Verse 18 does not end in quiet reflection. It produces the cry of verse 19. One writer traces that logic, and calls God's faithful few the remnant:
In verse 17 God rejects and judges the wicked, whoever they may be... and all the nations who forget God... And in this God remembers the needy, for the destruction of the wicked is their deliverance. So the cry of the remnant is for this — for the LORD to arise.
The psalm speaks of nations and of God's people as a whole. The same principle holds for one believer under trial:
Let every tried believer know that discipline is not forgetfulness but remembrance. And delay is not forgetfulness either. "He who is coming will come"… "The Lord is not slow to fulfil His promise as some count slowness."
- Forgotten — the nations forget God (v. 17); God never forgets the needy. The verse turns the word back on the world.
- Not always — the psalm admits the delay and limits it. It seems like forever; it is not forever.
- Remembered — God writes the poor who think on His name in His book of remembrance, while the tyranny lasts.
- Expectation — what steadies the meek is not despair but hope with a claim on God. He does not disappoint those who have nothing else.
- Arise — their deliverance comes through the fall of the oppressor. So the confidence of verse 18 becomes the prayer of verse 19 against frail man.
Arise, Jehovah; let not man prevail let the nations be judged in thy sight.
Psalm 9 ends with a prayer, not a song of victory. Its last verses ask one question: who will have the last word, God or man?
The people praying here are the needy. One writer points out where this cry comes from.
How often it seems that men and nations who think themselves strong forget the needy and fight against them. But the needy will not always be forgotten, and they have a right to an expectation that will not perish (v. 18). It is the Lord who puts the cry into their mouths: "Arise, O LORD! Let not man prevail" (v. 19). And there is no possibility that He will not answer.
Hebrew has more than one word for "man." One writer explains which one this verse uses.
The Old Testament uses several words for "man." One of them is enosh, which we are told means "frail mortal man." It is almost a term of contempt. This is the word the Psalmist uses when he says, "Arise, O LORD! Let not man prevail." He uses it again in the words, "Put them in fear, O Lord; that the nations may know themselves to be but men." And he uses it once more in Psalm 10, when he speaks of "the man of the earth."
Take away the detail and only two parties remain. One writer names them.
Here the conflict comes down to its main parts. It is between Jehovah, the God to whom power belongs, and feeble but proud man. The will of man — whose breath is in his nostrils — is in constant conflict with the will and pleasure of his Maker. But God must be the winner in this contest… Here the question is about nations gathered in anger against the few who still confess the truth of God. This happens at a time when the world, which once professed that truth, will mistake a lie for truth.
The prayer asks for judgment in God's own presence. One writer draws out what that presence does to proud nations.
"Arise, Jehovah! let not frail man be strong like this!" Has his success not already reached its appointed limit? "Let the nations be judged before Your face!" They have forgotten You, and so they can boast; let Your presence convict them of their folly and rebuke their empty claims: "put them in fear, Jehovah! that the nations may know themselves to be frail men!"
One writer looks at the verses just before, and at the small faithful group whose cry this is.
Verse 17 shows the wicked rejected and judged — whoever they may be, Jew as well as Gentile, and indeed the Jew in particular — along with all the nations who forget God. Judgment gives them their place in hades. And in this God remembers the needy, for the destruction of the wicked is their deliverance. So the cry of the remnant is this: that Jehovah would arise.
Should a Christian pray this way? One writer answers by pointing to the difference between one period of God's dealings and another.
Verses 15–20 are not the language of the gospel. They are the prophetic demand for judgment — the righteous demand. This explains the difficulties Christians often find in the Psalms. They come from not understanding the difference between the dispensations. To convert the wicked by announcing the grace of God is the gospel. What we have been reading is something quite different… If God did not carry out judgment, the evil would only grow worse and worse, and the faithful would have no comfort. God does not execute it until the evil has reached its height.
Another writer sets two hopes side by side: what these people wait for, and what Christians pray for now.
They look to enjoy the earth under His reign, and when God works in them they are right to cry for judgment. We are one with Christ in heaven. We look for Him to come and take us where He is, and we pray for grace as He did, even for His blinded murderers.
- Frail man. The word behind "man" is enosh — frail, mortal man. The prayer asks God to show man for what he is.
- Frail man strong. This frail creature has grown strong enough to crush the needy. The prayer says his success has already reached the limit God set for it.
- Frail man judged. The prayer asks for judgment "before Your face." God's presence exposes the boast and makes the nations know they are frail men.
- Frail man falls. God rising up and the wicked falling are one act. The destruction of the oppressor is the rescue of the oppressed.
- Frail man and grace. This cry is not the gospel. While God offers grace, believers pray for their enemies as Christ did, and wait for God to settle the account.
Put them in fear, Jehovah that the nations may know themselves to be but men. Selah.
Psalm 9 ends with a prayer. The psalmist asks God to act so that the nations lose their illusions about themselves. Two questions decide the meaning of the last line. What must the nations learn, and why does it take fear to teach them?
The word for "man" here is not a neutral word. It carries a sting. The psalmist uses the same word one line earlier, where he asks that man should not prevail.
The Old Testament uses several words for "man." One of them is enosh. We are told it means "frail mortal man," and it is almost a term of contempt. This is the word the psalmist uses in Psalm 9, when he says, "Arise, O LORD! Let not man prevail," and also, "Put them in fear, O LORD! Let the nations know that they are but men."
The psalmist does not ask God to inform the nations. He asks Him to frighten them. They boast because they have forgotten Him, so His presence is what will expose them.
"Arise, Jehovah! Let not frail man be so strong!" Has his success not already reached the limit set for it? "Let the nations be judged before Your face!" They have forgotten You, and so they can boast: let Your presence convict them of their folly, and rebuke their empty claim. "Put them in fear, Jehovah! Let the nations know themselves to be frail men!"
Readers often stumble over a prayer like this. It sounds nothing like the gospel. One writer explains why the two are not the same.
Verses 15-20 are not the language of the gospel. They are the prophetic demand — the righteous demand — for judgment. This is what explains the difficulties Christians often find in the Psalms, when they have not understood the difference between the periods of God's dealings. To convert the wicked by announcing the grace of God is the gospel. What we have been reading is something quite different… If God did not carry out judgment, the evil would only grow worse and worse, with no comfort for the faithful. He does not carry it out until the evil has reached its height.
So whose prayer is this? One writer tests the question with Stephen, who prayed for his murderers as he died.
Could Stephen, who prayed for his murderers just before his death, cry out for vengeance on them just after his death? If not, these martyrs do not belong to the Church period. They belong to the period when Christ has risen up for judgment… The Psalms are filled with their prayers… This is not language for a Christian under persecution. It suits those who are joined with Christ when the days of His patience are over.
The nations have to learn this because they believed something else first. One writer names the lie behind their pride.
How terribly the nations will then learn that they are "but men" (v. 20), though they had been drinking in and living out the serpent's old lie, "you shall be as gods."
The verse speaks of nations, not just single people. God deals with the proud as a mass, and brings them down to the level of those they despised.
"Let the nations be judged in Your sight" — not only single people, but the whole mass of nations joined together. They will be put in fear and brought down to realize that they are "but frail men" (v. 20). They have no more power than the needy they despise.
The prayer does not end in ruin alone. The fear God sends leads the survivors to know themselves and to plead with Him.
But man will not prevail. This solemn prayer will be answered, with a fearful display of how empty the creature is, when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with His mighty angels… The closing verse seems to show what the judgment does. It makes the surviving nations know themselves, so that, as people pleading with Him, they may learn to fear Him.
- Frail. The word for "men" here means frail, mortal man. It is almost a term of contempt, and the opposite of what the nations think of themselves.
- Forgotten. They can boast only because they have forgotten God. His presence is what convicts them of their folly.
- Fear. God's answer to the serpent's old lie, "you shall be as gods," is fear. Fear teaches the nations what they really are.
- Not yet. This is the righteous demand for judgment, not the gospel. God waits until evil reaches its height. Meanwhile the gospel goes out to convert the wicked.
- Pleading. The fear does not end in ruin only. The surviving nations come to know themselves, and learn to plead with God and fear Him.
Why, Jehovah, standest thou afar off? [Why] hidest thou thyself in times of distress?
The psalm opens with a cry to God and with the reason behind it: a wicked man is persecuting the humble. The question is not whether God is there, but why He seems far off just when trouble comes.
The question stings because the psalm just before it promised the opposite. It called God a stronghold in times of trouble. Now trouble has come, and He seems far away.
The first division gives us only the cry to Jehovah with the cause of the cry, this being the persecution of the humble by the wicked one. "Why, O LORD, do You stand far away? Why do You hide Yourself in times of trouble?" The previous psalm had declared God to be a stronghold in just such times (verse 9). Why such a difference between faith and experience? But in truth faith does not rest upon experience here at all. It confesses that, as to His government, clouds and darkness may be around Him. In the end experience will come round to faith, and meanwhile the testing will prove needed and helpful. But faith looks to the invisible — it really sees Him who is invisible. It has its ground and its arguments. It is not credulity: it has sure evidence, all its own.
The pain here is not suffering alone. Writers who read this psalm as prophecy see the faithful suffering while the man who oppresses them prospers.
Two things cause the distress of the remnant. One is the wickedness of Antichrist rising to its height. The other is that, when it does, he appears to prosper greatly while the godly are allowed to suffer. What is more, God seems to hide His face, as if He were indifferent to both alike — the prosperity of the wicked and the suffering of the godly.
The long description that follows verse 1 keeps using "the wicked" in the singular. That grammar carries meaning.
The word "wicked" throughout this passage is in the singular. The singular would show that this description fits any wicked man. No doubt it will have its full expression in one man — the Antichrist. So the passage is a description of the character of the Antichrist, without being a distinct prophecy of him personally.
Another writer finds a clue to that reading near the end of the psalm.
This Psalm has the widest moral bearing. Yet read as a prophecy, it becomes definite, and that gives it a new and special interest. The mention of the Lord's land (verse 16) gives us a key to the more precise meaning of the general language used. There is also a very plain link of subject between this Psalm and the one just before it.
Later in the psalm the wicked man says what the sufferer feels in verse 1: God has hidden His face. The sufferer asks it as a question. The wicked man treats it as settled fact.
His triumph over all these enemies, and over the seemingly defenceless people of God, deceives him. He thinks that "God has forgotten, He has hidden His face, He will never see it" (v. 11).
The sense of being abandoned is not the truth of the matter. Another writer shows where the answer to the cry comes.
Chapter 14 of Revelation is the answer to the cry of the remnant. It records God's intervention in grace and judgment. Satan is at work and seems to triumph, so we might suppose that God is indifferent, and that He had abandoned His people to the cruel mercy of the enemy. But it is not so.
The psalm does not leave the question open. By the end, the God who seemed far off had already been at work in the heart that cried out.
Jehovah has heard the desire of the humble. He prepared their heart, and then listened. That listening will take the form of judging — of being Judge for the fatherless and the oppressed, so that the man of the earth, the one whose strength and hope were there, should oppress no more.
- Distance — The cry is not doubt but an honest question. The psalm before called God a stronghold in times of trouble; now trouble has come and He stands far off.
- Delay — The pain is double: the wicked prospers, the godly suffers, and God seems untroubled by both.
- Description — The singular "wicked" describes any wicked man, and points to one man in particular. The mention of the Lord's land ties the psalm to a real place.
- Deception — The oppressor turns the sufferer's question into his own conclusion: God has forgotten, He will never see. But he is deceived.
- Deliverance — God had already prepared the heart that cried before He listened to it. Faith rests on the invisible, and in the end experience comes round to faith.
The wicked, in his pride, doth hotly pursue the afflicted. They shall be taken in the devices that they have imagined.
Psalm 10 opens with a question many have asked in trouble. Why does God seem to stand back when evil is at its strongest? Verse 2 gives one answer. It names pride as the force behind the hunt of the poor. Then it asks that the hunters fall into their own traps.
The verse does not blame greed or revenge. It names pride as the motive, and one writer traces that root through the whole psalm. (The older translation renders verse 4 as "God is not in all his thoughts"; the ESV has "all his thoughts are, 'There is no God.'")
He does persecute the poor, but it is his pride that moves him to do it... He has no desire for God: "God is not in all his thoughts" (v. 4), and this is because of his proud looks... Only the most insufferable pride could lead him to treat God with contempt.
The same writer applies the description to the world's leaders:
This description of the wicked was written about three thousand years ago, yet it exactly fits the leaders of the ungodly world today. They completely rule God out of everything. They shut Him out everywhere, at least in their thinking... He has no place in their politics or their business. He has no place in their science or their philosophy.
From verse 2 onward the psalm speaks of "the wicked" in the singular, not of a crowd. Commentators read that singular in two ways, and one holds both together.
The word "wicked" throughout this passage is in the singular. The singular shows that the description fits any wicked man. But no doubt it will find its full expression in one man — the Antichrist. So the passage describes the character of the Antichrist. It is not a direct prophecy about him as a person.
Others read the figure as one coming man:
These verses no longer speak in the plural — "them" and "they" — but of one outstanding enemy. He does not come from the nations outside Israel, but from inside the nation Israel... Verses 2 to 11 describe the antichrist who will arise in Israel, claiming to be God (2 Thess. 2:3-4)... Those who join him in oppressing the poor to enrich themselves will be fine people in his eyes.
The verse sets the proud man against the afflicted. One writer names what each of them acts on:
The wicked in his pride acts on what he can see. The righteous acts by faith on the character of Jehovah, faith in Him... He pursues his plans without conscience, seeking to destroy the humble by craft, and reckons that God has forgotten him. How well Christ could help them here! The humble cry under the oppression.
The second half of the verse asks God to catch the plotters in their own plans. An older translation reads the line as a statement: they will be taken. The psalm reports the outcome:
He declares that God has not seen his sin, or that if He has, He does not mind and will never call him to account for it. And so with full confidence he says in his heart, "I shall not be moved; throughout all generations I shall not meet adversity" (Ps. 10:6). Yet before that Psalm ends, we find that he is moved... He is not only moved, but removed in judgment. His boasted security turns out to be a lie.
Psalms 9 and 10 run through the Hebrew alphabet in order — except for a gap of six letters. The place where the order breaks is not random:
Notice where this gap in the structure falls. Not in the ninth psalm, which celebrates the reign of the Most High from beginning to end, but near the start of the tenth, where the psalm describes the man of sin. The alphabet returns as soon as the description ends and the appeal begins again: "Arise, Jehovah!" This wicked one seems for a time to resist the government of God, and even to prevail against the Most High. But it cannot truly be so.
The request of verse 2 is not left hanging:
God has long been a patient Observer (v. 14). But patience is not indifference, and the world will learn that by terrible experience. God will repay in perfect righteousness. The helpless have committed themselves to Him, and they will find Him a real helper — a Helper of the fatherless, of those who have no one on earth to depend upon.
- Pride starts it. The hunt of the poor is no accident. Pride moves him to do it. The same pride later leads him to treat God with contempt.
- Pride empties the mind of God. The proud rule God out of politics, business, science and philosophy. They shut Him out of every thought.
- Pride wears one face and many. The singular "wicked" fits any proud man. Commentators see its fullest expression in one coming man.
- Pride recoils. The schemes aimed at the poor close on the schemer. He is not only moved, but removed. His boasted security turns out to be a lie.
- Pride ends at "Arise." The alphabet picks up again the moment the psalm cries "Arise." God's patience was never indifference, and the helpless find Him a helper.
For the wicked boasteth of his soul's desire, and he blesseth the covetous; he contemneth Jehovah.
Psalm 10 is the cry of the oppressed while God stands far off. Verse 3 turns the light on the man causing the trouble, and it raises a hard question: how can other people admire a man whom God abhors?
The psalm describes one man, yet it is not about only one man.
The word "wicked" throughout this passage is in the singular. Using the singular shows that the description fits any wicked man, though it will surely reach its full expression in one man — the Antichrist.
Read as a portrait, verse 3 gathers three faults into one line.
The third verse describes his covetousness, his blasphemy, and his boastful self-confidence.
To boast of "the desires of his soul" is to brag about getting your own way, with nothing allowed to stand in the way.
He boasts of his soul's desire — of having his own way. As he chases it, he refuses every check of Jehovah's will. He renounces Him, he scorns Him, he is completely independent. Like a "wandering star", he is bound to no orbit. That very fact shows he is held by earthly chains he knows nothing about, a meteor that will be put out in darkness. Safety and permanence belong only to the orbit.
The second half of the verse is rendered differently by different translators. The ESV has the greedy man cursing and renouncing the LORD; older versions have him blessing the covetous whom the LORD abhors. One rendering keeps both ideas side by side:
For the wicked man boasts of his soul's desire; he blesses the plunderer, he despises Jehovah.
On that older reading, the wicked man hands out congratulations, and his verdict on people reverses God's.
The wicked boasts himself in his heart's desire, and blesses him (counts him happy, that is) whom Jehovah abhors. He pursues his plans without conscience, seeking to destroy the humble by craft, and reckons that God has forgotten him.
That same reversal still runs through ordinary life, and it reaches into religion as well.
The deep selfishness of the heart prefers its own care to God's care, and that ties it in worldly sympathy to the people of this age. So let us beware, for "what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God." No evil is more common in the religious world today, and it was just as common in our Lord's day. Ease, honour, influence, and position are valued as highly as ever, and this belittles the truth beyond measure.
Greed looks like ordinary ambition, which is why so few people fear it.
Covetousness involves no dishonesty. It is not even hard or sharp dealing. It is no more than the desire for more — the very spring of modern effort, the drive to better yourself that everyone is urged on to, from the mechanic to the millionaire. So the creature becomes the object, and not God; and that is why covetousness is called idolatry. It is man looking down, not up in dependence on God.
Greed also hides best from the person who has it.
It is one thing to see it in others, and quite another to judge it in ourselves. The fact is that only one thing can help us detect the hateful sin of covetousness: the light of the Word of God shining into the soul and reaching every room of our moral being.
Trace the boasting, the praise of greed, and the contempt of God back far enough, and one thing sits underneath them all.
He is covetous and "blesses the covetous" (verse 3), and his pride leads him to boast of this evil. Again, he has no desire for God, and the reason is the pride of his face (verse 4). He shuts God out of his thoughts completely... No wonder, then, that verse 15 gives us the prayer, "Break the arm of the wicked and evildoer" — a prayer God will answer in due time.
- Pride starts it. Boasting, greed, and contempt for God all grow from the same root — a man too proud to let God's will check him.
- Desire becomes the god. Wanting more looks harmless. But it puts the creature where God should be, and that is why covetousness is called idolatry.
- Praise reverses the verdict. The wicked man calls happy the very person the LORD abhors. What people exalt, God calls an abomination.
- The blind spot is personal. Greed is easy to see in others and nearly invisible in ourselves; only the light of God's Word exposes it.
- Judgment ends it. The psalm closes with a prayer: break the arm of the wicked. God will answer it in due time.
The wicked [saith], in the haughtiness of his countenance, He doth not search out all his thoughts are, There is no God!
Psalm 10 paints a man in whom evil has grown up fully. Verse 4 gives the root: a proud face, a refusal to seek God, and a mind with no room for Him. Two questions follow. What goes on inside such a person? And is the psalm describing people in general, or one figure still to come?
One writer counts how often the psalm names this man, and finds one root behind all his evil.
Will our readers examine this tenth Psalm, which exposes the character of unconverted man. They will discover that five times over it calls him "the wicked." It does not only call him that. It also describes what makes up his wickedness: in one word, it is the pride of his heart.
Pride does not just go along with shutting God out. It causes it. (Older translations end the verse "God is not in all his thoughts," which is the wording the next two writers quote.)
Again, he has no desire for God: "God is not in all his thoughts" (v. 4), and this is because of the pride of his face. He shuts God out of his thoughts completely. He does this because self-sufficiency fills him and he imagines that he will never be moved.
Does this mean the man never thinks about God at all? One writer looks at what fills the space instead.
Being evil himself, he has no idea of a Being supremely good. If a notion of God comes into his mind, it is a demon that rises up before him. It is a being with all the lusts he has himself, and with unlimited power as well. As the Psalmist puts it, "God is not in all his thoughts" (Ps. 10:4); that is, no true thought of God is there. A hard master, a harsh man, takes the place of God in his thinking, but that is not God at all. So he has no confidence in God, and the thought of having to do with Him is, more than anything else, a terror to his soul.
The verse says the wicked "does not seek him." One writer shows how far that refusal reaches.
Although it is always the duty of men to seek after God, in fact they refuse to do so. Psalm 53:2 is deeply solemn. It says: "God looks down from heaven on the children of man to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God. They have all fallen away; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one." The great and gracious Creator looked over the whole human race. He could not see one who wanted Him, or even one who understood why his Creator made him! Psalm 14:2-3 and Romans 3:11-12 confirm this. To this we would add Psalm 10:4.
Fereday does not leave the picture there.
Since this is the true state of things, everyone would perish in their appalling folly, if God were not at work in grace. If men do not want Him, He wants them!
Some translators read the Hebrew another way. They take "He will not search out" to mean that God will not investigate. On that reading, the man's denial of God is not a conclusion he reached. It is a convenience he needs.
He is not only independent of God, he denies Him; but he denies Him in the interest of his own lawless acts. "He will not search out," he says. His plottings, the weaving together of his purposes, are therefore atheistic. His pride and his lusts support each other.
Commentators differ over which sense the words carry. Both readings end in the same place: no room for God.
Throughout this psalm "the wicked" stands in the singular. One writer takes that as pointing beyond a general type.
In the singular it is, I judge, a description of a character. Yet I have no doubt there will be one special wicked one: The Lawless One of 2 Thessalonians 2:8 — the Antichrist. He is known here by his character, though, not by a distinct prophecy of his person. Lawlessness shows itself, but not The Lawless One, and it is not limited to one man.
This portrait still fits public life today.
Someone wrote this description of the wicked some three thousand years ago, yet it exactly fits the present leaders of the ungodly world. They completely rule God out of everything… He is outside the scope of all their politics, their business, their science, their philosophy. And if some of them cannot do without a religion of some kind, they take care to push Him far into the background even there. He becomes a vague and shadowy Being they can pretty safely ignore.
- Pride starts it. The wickedness described here has one root, named five times over in the psalm: the pride of his heart.
- Pride empties the mind. Self-sufficiency crowds God out, so that no true thought of Him remains — only a hard master of the man's own making.
- The empty mind refuses to seek. God looked down over the whole race to find one who sought Him, and found none. If men do not want Him, He wants them.
- The refusal serves the appetite. Denying that God investigates suits his lawless plans. Pride and lust prop each other up.
- The mind reaches full growth. The single "wicked" one points on to the Lawless One. The same outlook already rules God out of politics, business and science today.
His ways always succeed; thy judgments are far above out of his sight; [as for] all his adversaries, he puffeth at them.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
He saith in his heart, I shall not be moved; from generation to generation I shall be in no adversity.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
His mouth is full of cursing, and deceit, and oppression; under his tongue is mischief and iniquity.
Psalm 10 paints a man who has pushed God out of his thoughts. Verse 7 is the moment his mouth gives him away. On its own the line describes one cruel man. Paul later quotes it as part of God's charge against the whole human race.
The verse sits directly after the boast of verse 6, where the wicked man tells himself he will never be shaken. One writer ties the boast to the words that follow, and asks what kind of man now fills the place God once held. (He uses an older translation, which reads "trouble" and "vanity" where the ESV has "mischief and iniquity.")
Because he feels so secure, everything in his heart comes out: "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks", and "his mouth is filled with cursing and deceit and oppression." What is "under his tongue" is hidden, yet ready to show itself. It is "trouble" for others and "vanity" in itself. It is a short description, but an effective one. If God is pushed out, it is to make room for man. And what kind of man is he, for whom the room is made?
The word does not have to mean bad language. One commentator shows what this cursing aims at, and how smooth the same mouth can sound.
This does not have to mean he uses swear words. Of this same man we read, "His speech was smooth as butter, yet war was in his heart" (Ps. 55:21). His cursing is more a matter of running others down — and above all God. He is one who curses God, uses deceit among his friends, and oppresses the poor. "Under his tongue are mischief and iniquity." People may not see this at first, but it lies under everything he says. What a terrible charge!
Paul places this line in a chain of quotations in Romans 3, and one writer traces the chain as a downward slope. Cursing is not the bottom of it.
The fourth quotation is from Psalm 10:7: "His mouth is filled with cursing." Lying leads to slander, and slander leads to cursing, because the slandered man hits back with cursing and bitterness.
The next quotation in Paul's list moves from words to blood.
The fifth quotation is from Proverbs 1:16: "their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed blood." From "cursing and bitterness" it is only a short step to murder.
It would be comfortable to read verse 7 as a description of somebody else. One writer removes that escape by noting whom Paul is describing when he borrows the line.
In Romans 3 we have God's charge against man, set out as a string of quotations from the Prophets and the Psalms. Among them we find these terrible words from Psalm 10: "Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness." If the heart did not hold these evils, the mouth could never pour them out. Here then we have an insight into the human heart. Notice too where this dreadful quotation stands. It comes in Paul's description of religious Jews, not in his account of the nations outside Israel… So a man can sing the praises of God on Sunday and be guilty of cursing and bitterness towards others on Monday.
Throughout Psalm 10 "the wicked" stands in the singular. One writer reads it as the picture of a type, and also as a hint of one man still to come.
As a rule — and always in Psalm 10, and every time the word is used in Psalm 9 except verse 17 — "the wicked" is singular… In the singular it describes, I judge, a character. Yet I have no doubt there will also be one particular wicked man, the Lawless One of 2 Thessalonians 2:8, the Antichrist. Here, though, he is known by his character, not by a clear prophecy about his person.
The psalm does not leave this mouth talking. Another writer follows the man to the end of the chapter and shows what happens to his confidence.
He claims that God has not seen his sin, or that if He has, He does not care and will never call him to account… The God he despises searches out his wickedness, breaks his arm, and destroys him out of the land. He is not only moved, but removed in judgment. His boasted security turns out to be a lie.
- Displaced. God is pushed out of his thoughts first; the mouth only reports what has already happened inside.
- Disguised. His cursing can sound smooth, and what lies "under his tongue" stays hidden until it shows itself.
- Escalating. Lying breeds slander, slander breeds cursing, and cursing is a short step from bloodshed.
- Universal. Paul aims this line at religious people, not only at obvious criminals. It shows what the human heart holds.
- Ended. The man who said he would never be shaken is himself removed in judgment; his security was a lie.
He sitteth in the lurking-places of the villages; in the secret places doth he slay the innocent his eyes watch for the wretched.
Psalm 10 turns from wickedness in general to a close-up of one man. Verse 8 catches him at work: crouched out of sight, killing people who never saw him coming. Two questions follow. Who are the "innocent" he hunts, and does anyone see what happens in hidden places?
The wickedness here is not spread across many offenders. The psalm keeps one man in view, and commentators take that as deliberate.
The word "wicked" throughout this passage is in the singular. Using the singular shows that this description fits any wicked man, though no doubt it will have its full expression in one man — the Antichrist. So the passage describes the character of the Antichrist. It is not a distinct prophecy of him personally.
Hiding and watching take skill. But skill is only the surface here.
His acts are marked by craft, behind which there lurks the violence of a beast. His victims are the godly — the innocent and the poor.
The word "innocent" here points to what these victims do not share in.
They are "the innocent" (ver. 8). They take no part in the cursing, deceit, fraud and scheming that fill the lives of the wicked.
The ambush can be read at more than one level. It also raises a question: whose hand strikes the blow?
Verses 8 and 9 are literally true of some men. They may also be a picture of the antichrist. He will be able to do such things by proxy — using servants to carry out his evil plans. But God will hold him responsible for the evil his servants do by his direction. Many men are clever enough to hide that they are the source of the wickedness. They do it by manipulating servants they have deceived.
The killer's boldness has a root. He is sure no one will ever ask him for an account. One writer sees the same mix in the men who handed Jesus over.
Judas betrayed innocent blood and they condemned it. He at least had some feeling of remorse for what he had done — enough to drive him to take his own life. They had no feeling whatever. What was innocent blood to them? They had no reluctance about shedding it, nor had they any fear of the God who repays evil. They were prepared to "murder the innocent," saying in their hearts, "You will not call to account" (Ps. 10:8, 13).
Someone did see the hidden places. The long wait for justice is not neglect.
God has long been a patient Observer (v. 14). But patience is not indifference, as the world will learn by terrible experience. God will repay in perfect righteousness. The helpless who have committed themselves to Him will find Him a real helper — a Helper of the fatherless, those who have no one on earth to depend upon.
It is easy to read a portrait like this at arm's length. One writer warns against that.
When we look at these great examples of human wickedness in Scripture, our minds are often in danger of forgetting one thing. The Holy Spirit marks out the moral features of Christ's chief adversary among men. What He shows us there is simply the ripe development of what is in the human heart of every one of us.
- Hidden — verse 8 shows one man's method. The singular fits any wicked man, and points to one in whom it comes to full expression.
- Hunting — his acts are marked by craft, with the violence of a beast behind them.
- Helpless — his victims are the innocent and the poor. They take no part in the deceit around them, and they have no one on earth to defend them.
- Heartless — he kills because he has told himself God will never call it to account. The men who condemned Jesus made the same calculation.
- Held to account — God's long silence is patience, not indifference. He is the helper of those who have no other.
He lieth in wait secretly, like a lion in his thicket; he lieth in wait to catch the afflicted he doth catch the afflicted, drawing him into his net.
The psalm has been describing a man who has pushed God out of his thoughts. Here that inward atheism turns into a hunt. Two images stack up: an animal crouching in cover, and a trapper with a net. Who is the predator? Who are the prey? And why does God let it happen?
The verse fuses two pictures: a lion in its thicket and a man with a net. One writer takes that fusion as the point.
So now we have his ways — a monotony of wickedness. The psalmist tries to describe it, and can only repeat himself in different ways. The picture is a wild beast, a beast of prey. It is human only in this: it carries the cunning and forethought of the hunter. Man without God is only such a beast. The spiritual part has sunk into the animal, and that gives the animal an unnatural power for evil.
The lion does not charge in the open; it waits. One writer reads verses 8 to 11 as a study in concealment. A man can hunt without anyone seeing him at the kill.
Verses 8 to 11 then emphasise the deceit that marks his every activity. Verses 8 and 9 are literally true of some men. They may also be a picture of the antichrist. He will be able to do such things by proxy — that is, with servants to carry out his evil plans. But God will hold him responsible for the evil his servants do at his direction. Many men are clever enough to hide that they are the source of the wickedness. They manipulate their deluded servants.
Twice the verse names the target: "the poor." That is not about money. The word points to the heart, and it stands opposite the pride running through the rest of the psalm.
They are "the poor" (v. 2). That is, of course, poor in spirit, and not merely poor in worldly possessions. Their poverty of spirit is the exact opposite of pride, and pride is the mark of frail mortal man.
Psalm 10 follows patterns — one of them alphabetical. At these verses the patterns break down. One commentator treats that breakdown as designed, not accidental.
Even the numerical structure seems to fall through here in the smaller sections. The alphabetic structure has already done so, and yet by design. So we may recognise design here too. These three verses show what is still a nameless horror, like the fourth of the imperial beasts in Daniel's vision (Dan. 7).
It is easy to read this as a portrait of somebody else — a tyrant, or a future enemy of God. One writer warns against that reflex.
We study the great examples of human wickedness in Scripture from a distance, and our minds are often in danger there. The Holy Spirit sketches the moral features of Christ's chief adversary among men. We forget that this is only the ripe development of what is in the human heart of every one of us. Fallen and corrupted nature produces "the man of sin" — nature grown to full wickedness under the nurture the devil is allowed to give.
The other half of the mirror is the prey. If the wicked hunts the poor, a searching question follows for anyone who is never hunted.
We come so little into collision with the men of this age. One reason, we may be sure, is that we are so little marked by the features that stand in such sharp contrast to them. The wicked in his pride persecutes "the poor." He does, whatever the age. The moment "the poor" shows up, he itches to persecute him. We have the wicked with us right enough. But where is the poor? Well, if the wicked of this age compliment us and pat us on the back, that raises some serious questions.
The victim drawn into the net has no rescuer left. That is the ground faith stands on later in the psalm.
Faith still holds firmly to an All-seeing One. He is as interested as He is observant, and certain to step in. The wretched one is sunk in affliction. Still he throws himself on Him who has proved to be the helper of those with no natural help. The height of the evil is just the supreme need that God must answer, and He takes it on Himself. Every other help is cut off. Is not the soul in this condition the very "orphan" He has pledged Himself to?
- Beast — Shut God out, and a man sinks to a beast of prey. He keeps the hunter's cunning, and that gives his evil an unnatural power.
- Ambush — He works out of sight, by deceit and often through servants. God still holds him responsible for the evil they do.
- Prey — The hunted are "the poor," poor in spirit, the exact opposite of the pride that fills the rest of the psalm.
- Breakdown — The psalm's own pattern breaks down here. It marks a horror still without a name.
- Rescue — The net cuts off every other help. That is the very condition God pledges Himself to. He is the orphan's Helper, who sees and will step in.
He croucheth, he boweth down, that the wretched may fall by his strong ones.
By now the psalm has drawn a full portrait of a man who hunts people. This line is the moment the trap shuts, and commentators read it both as plain human cruelty and as a picture of one oppressor still to come.
Verses 1–11 expose wickedness that is winning. One writer traces its root to a settled denial of God, and sees one particular enemy behind the general description.
These verses set out, with vivid seriousness, the plans and deeds of human wickedness that is prospering. They open up the hidden springs of godless action, and show that all of them rise from one source: the atheism of the heart. That heart-atheism soothes and encourages the madness of a rebellious will as it runs its desperate, self-destroying course. But these are general statements with the widest practical use. Under them the Spirit of God is clearly tracing in this psalm the moral features and actual conduct of the Wicked One, as they show themselves in his treatment of the faithful remnant of Israel, whose urgent cry is heard in the opening verse.
The psalm names both his method and his victims.
Craft marks his acts, and behind that craft lurks the violence of a beast. His victims are the godly — the innocent and the poor.
One writer takes the beast image as a measure of what a man becomes once God is pushed out.
The picture is of a wild beast, a beast of prey. It is human only in this: it has the cunning and forethought of a hunter. Man without God is only such a beast. His spiritual part has sunk into the animal, and that only gives the animal an unnatural power for evil.
Translators split over who is doing the crouching. Some make the oppressor the subject, lowering himself for the spring:
He crouches, he humbles himself, and the poor have fallen by his strong ones.
Others make the victim the subject. The ESV reads the line that way, and so does this rendering:
And he is crushed, he is brought low, the wretched has fallen by his might.
Psalms 9 and 10 follow the order of the Hebrew alphabet, but that pattern has already broken down by this point. One writer sees the collapse as part of the message.
Even the numerical structure seems to fall through here in the smaller sections. The alphabetic pattern has already fallen through, and yet by design. That may make us see design here too: the three verses show a horror that still has no name, like the fourth of the imperial beasts in Daniel's vision.
A man can strike with his own hands, or he can send others to strike for him. Commentators differ on how far the picture reaches, and one who reads it as prophecy adds a warning about accountability.
Verses 8 and 9 are literally true of some men. They may also be a picture of the antichrist, for he will be able to do such things by proxy — that is, with servants to carry out his evil plans. But God will hold him responsible for the evil his servants do at his direction.
Studying a monster at a distance is comfortable. Pridham refuses the comfort.
When we look at these great examples of human wickedness in Scripture, our minds are often in danger of forgetting one thing. The Holy Spirit marks out the moral features of Christ's chief adversary among men. What He sets before us there is only the full-grown form of what is in the human heart of every one of us.
The helpless fall in verse 10, but the psalm does not stop there.
God will not forget the humble. He sees what the wicked does. He has prepared the heart of the humble so as to bless them. God has broken the arm of the wicked, and the nations too have perished out of His land by His judgment. He is King for ever and ever. "The man of the earth" will oppress no longer.
- Crouch. The oppressor hunts with a hunter's cunning. The craft is only a cover for the beast underneath.
- Crush. The helpless go down under sheer strength. Whether he strikes himself or sends servants, God holds him accountable.
- Chaos. The psalm's own pattern breaks down here. The disorder in the man shows up as disorder in the poem.
- Confess. What Scripture exposes in the worst man is the ripe form of what is in every heart.
- Crown. The arm of the wicked is broken, the humble are not forgotten, and the oppressor oppresses no more.
He saith in his heart, God hath forgotten, he hideth his face, he will never see [it].
Psalm 10 traces the thinking of a man who has grown powerful by crushing weaker people. Verse 11 is the verdict he reaches inside his own heart: not that God does not exist, but that God is not watching.
The verse does not stand alone. It follows a run of victories, and those victories become the man's proof.
He triumphs over all these enemies, and over the seemingly defenceless people of God. That triumph deceives him into thinking that "God has forgotten: He hides His face: He will never see it" (v. 11).
One writer renders the name here as "the Mighty," where the ESV has "God." The man is not shaking off a stranger. He is dismissing the power that still rules over him.
One closing comment takes us back to his attitude toward the divine government. That government still has its hold upon him: "he has said in his heart, The Mighty has forgotten: He hides His face; He has never seen it."
The verse is not a claim that there is no God. It is a claim that God is out of the picture. One writer points to the moment that illusion collapses.
"He has said in his heart, God has forgotten; He hides His face; He will never see" (v. 11). So it is clear he knows there is a God, but thinks God is unable to take account of what the deceiver is doing. What an awakening it will be when he is caught red-handed in his fight against God, and sent with the Beast into the horror of the lake of fire (Revelation 19:20)! What a dreadful end for this proud challenger of the God of creation!
God's people feel the same silence the wicked man counts on. The psalm opens with the cry of that suffering remnant. One writer, commenting on that opening verse, uses almost the words of verse 11.
Two things distress the remnant. One is the wickedness of Antichrist rising to its height. The other is that, when it does, he seems to prosper hugely while God lets the godly suffer. God also seems to hide His face, as if He cared nothing either for the prosperity of the wicked or for the suffering of the godly.
The difference is not in the evidence but in where confidence rests.
Why such a gap between the faith and the experience? But in truth faith here does not rest on experience at all. It confesses that, as to His government, clouds and darkness may be around Him. In the end experience will come round to faith, and meanwhile the testing will prove needed and helpful. But faith is in the invisible. It does see Him who is invisible. It has its ground and its arguments. It is not credulity; it has sure evidence, all its own.
Commentators read this man as a portrait of a coming figure of concentrated evil. That makes him easy to study from a safe distance.
When we look at the great examples of human wickedness revealed in Scripture as things outside ourselves, our minds are often in danger of forgetting one thing. The Holy Spirit marks out the moral features of Christ's chief adversary among men. What He sets before us there is only the ripe development of what is in the human heart of every one of us.
The denial does not have to be spoken.
Men leave God out, and explain everything as if there were no God. Whenever I act as if God were not — that is, without reference to His will — I so far say in my heart, "There is no God."
Verse 11 is the low point of the psalm. After a boast like this, waiting would serve no purpose.
So now it is time for God to arise and act. This final act of denial and defiance is the hand that points to the last possible limit of God's patience. The living God must show Himself. The Mighty One must put forth might. The suffering of the righteous calls for it; and so does the cool contempt of the wicked. To wait longer would not be patience; it would only make the evil worse.
- Seen — the verse is a verdict passed in the heart: God has stopped looking. Everything else in the psalm answers that one sentence.
- Seen wrongly — the man is not an atheist. He knows God is there. He has decided God cannot keep track of him. One day he is caught in the act.
- Seen alike — God's people feel the same silence he does. What separates them is that faith rests on the invisible God, not on how things look now.
- Seen in us — the ripe wickedness of Scripture's worst figure is the same seed found in every human heart. To act without reference to God's will is to say the same thing in the heart.
- Seen by God — the boast points to the last limit of God's patience. When contempt reaches that height, the Mighty One must act.
Arise, Jehovah; O God, lift up thy hand forget not the afflicted.
The wicked man of this psalm tells himself that God will never call him to account. Verse 12 is faith's answer to that boast: a cry for God to stand up and act while His silence still looks like proof that the mocker is right.
This prayer is made when nothing in sight backs it up. One writer says faith does not rest on experience at all.
Why such difference between the faith and the experience? But in truth faith in no way rests upon experience here. It confesses that, as to His government, clouds and darkness may be all around Him. True, at last experience will come round to faith, and meanwhile the trial will prove needed and helpful. But faith is in the invisible — it sees Him who is invisible — it has its ground, its arguments; it is not gullible belief, but has sure evidence, all its own.
One writer finds two grounds in this plea, not one. The second is not about the sufferer at all.
The faith of the godly in this terrible trial. They appeal to God to show His hand — "lift up your hand." They plead for God's intervention: first, because of the suffering of His afflicted people; second, because God Himself has been condemned. For the wicked has said in his heart, "God will not call him to account." The suffering of God's people, and the vindication of God's character, both call aloud for God's intervention in judgment.
The prayer asks God to act now. One writer explains why this moment, and not an earlier one, calls for it.
So now it is time for God to arise and act. This final denial and defiance points like a hand to the last possible limit of God's patience. The living God must show Himself. The Mighty One must put forth might. The suffering of the righteous calls for it; and so does the cool contempt of the wicked. Patience will no longer be forbearance, but the making worse of the evil.
The psalm follows the Hebrew alphabet, one letter starting each section. That pattern stops, then starts again at verse 12. One writer ties the restart to a crisis still ahead.
The acrostic sequence starts again in verse 12 because it points to the Lord stepping in. He will patiently allow the antichrist to have his way. That lasts until the antichrist sets up "the abomination of desolation" in the temple area of Jerusalem — an idol image to the Roman Beast. This will be a bold challenge to the authority of God, so that His judgment falls very swiftly after this... He will certainly not forget the humble. His answer will come swiftly and solemnly to those who renounce God, thinking they can avoid giving an account to Him.
The wicked man's whole confidence was that God had forgotten. Verse 12 throws that word straight back. Where the ESV says "afflicted," the writer quoted here says "the humble" and "the poor."
They call upon God to lift up His hand — not to forget the humble. Why should the wicked despise God? Jehovah has seen it and will repay; the poor committed himself to Him... Jehovah is King for ever; the nations have perished out of His land. There is the public judgment; now the secret of the Lord. Jehovah has heard the desire of the humble. He prepared their heart, and then listened.
The one praying has no help left anywhere else.
Faith holds confidently to an All-seeing One, as interested as He is observant, certain to step in. The wretched one is sunk in affliction. Still he hands himself over to Him who has proved Himself the helper of those with no natural help. The height of the evil is simply the extreme need that God must answer, and which He directly takes upon Himself. With every other help cut off, is not the soul in this condition the very "orphan" to whom He is pledged?
- Silence — God standing far off is the setting of this prayer, not an argument against it. Faith rests on the invisible God, not on what experience shows.
- Nothing left — having no other helper is not a weakness in this prayer. It is its strongest ground. God has pledged Himself to the person with no help.
- Two pleas — the prayer rests on the suffering of God's people and on the insult to God's own character. His honour is at stake as much as their relief.
- The limit — God's patience has a fixed edge. When defiance is complete, waiting longer would only feed the evil. So He rises.
- The answer — the wicked said God had forgotten. The psalm ends with God hearing the desire of the humble.
Wherefore doth the wicked contemn God? He hath said in his heart, Thou wilt not require [it].
Psalm 10 describes a man who hunts down the helpless and tells himself God has stopped watching. Verse 13 stops describing him and asks God a direct question: why is such contempt possible, and what must a man believe about God before he can live like this?
One writer traces every feature of this man back to a single root.
He persecutes the poor, but it is his pride that drives him to do it. He is covetous and "blesses the covetous" (v. 3), and his pride leads him to boast of this evil trait. Again, he has no desire for God: "God is not in all his thoughts" (v. 4), and this is because of the pride of his countenance. He shuts God completely out of his thoughts, because he is full of self-sufficiency and imagines he will never be moved. Then comes the question, "Why does the wicked renounce God?" (v. 13). The answer is obvious. Only the most unbearable pride could lead him to treat God with contempt.
The second half of the verse gives the man's own reasoning: God will never call him to account. Older translations put it, "You will not require it." The same writer follows that thought to where the psalm ends.
He declares that God has not seen his sin, or that if He has, He does not mind and will never call him to account for it. And so with complete assurance he says in his heart, "I shall not be moved: for I shall never be in adversity" (Ps. 10:6). Before the end of that Psalm, however, we find that he is moved. The God whom he despises seeks out his wickedness, breaks his arm, and destroys him out of the land. He is not only moved, but removed in judgment. His boasted security turns out to be a lie.
The question is a plea, not a puzzle. Another writer lists the charges behind it.
Psalm 10 — the previous psalm declared a judicial inquiry. This one is an appeal to Jehovah, who is King, on behalf of His land and the afflicted in it, against the wicked. He persecutes the poor, he glories in his own thoughts, he encourages the covetous, and despises God and His government. He scorns his enemies, he murders the innocent and helpless, and hardens his conscience against God. The Spirit of Christ in intercession asks, Why? — for he has said in his heart, "You will not call to account."
Is "the wicked" one man or a type? One writer weighs the psalm's own wording.
In general the word is singular. It is always singular in Psalm 10, and every time Psalm 9 uses it except verse 17. In verse 17 it is plural, to show that all of them will be cast down into sheol. The singular, I judge, describes a character. Yet I do not doubt there will be one special wicked one, The Lawless One (2 Thess. 2:8), the Antichrist. Here he is known by his character, not by a direct prophecy of his person.
That character has already appeared. One writer hears this verse's inward speech in the men who condemned Jesus — worse, he shows, than Judas, the disciple who betrayed Him.
Judas betrayed innocent blood and they condemned it. He at least had some feeling of remorse for what he had done — enough to drive him to take his own life. They had no feeling whatever. What was innocent blood to them? They had no scruple about shedding it, nor had they any fear of the God who repays evil. They were prepared to "murder the innocent," saying in their hearts, "You will not call to account" (Ps. 10:8, 13).
One writer traces this delusion to its source and names whose fight it really is.
He had seen it all, though the proud heart of the Wicked had told him flatteringly that God had forgotten. This is the crowning misery of man. Unless mercy rescues him, he is Satan's fool for all his boasted wisdom. He dreams of independent action while his will is entirely swayed by the deceiver... Meanwhile, God's ear is open to the cry of His distressed people. He tests the faith He gives them for a while, so that patience may have its perfect work... The land where the Oppressor will do his final evil work is none other than Immanuel's inheritance. His quarrel, therefore, is with God and not with man.
- Pride — contempt for God is not an argument. It is a swollen self, big enough to shut God out of every thought and still feel safe.
- Boast — the inner words "You will not call to account" drive the cruelty. They assume no reckoning, so the last restraint is gone.
- Cry — the "why" is intercession, an appeal to God as King on behalf of the afflicted in His own land.
- Answer — God has seen it all. The flattering thought that He forgot is the man's own delusion. His real quarrel is with God, not with his victims.
- Outcome — the boast collapses. The one who said he would never be moved is not only moved but removed, and his security proves a lie.
Thou hast seen [it], for thou thyself beholdest trouble and vexation, to requite by thy hand. The wretched committeth himself unto thee; thou hast been the helper of the fatherless.
The wicked man of this psalm has just told himself that God will never call him to account. Verse 14 is faith's answer to that boast. God has seen everything. He keeps a record so that He can repay. And He has already made Himself the protector of those who have no other.
One writer sets God's seeing against the lie the oppressor believes, and names what that pride makes of a man.
The work of the liar and the murderer has reached its height. So now the solemn call goes up to Jehovah to avenge His own cause by delivering His afflicted people. He had seen it all, though the proud heart of the wicked man had told him the flattering lie that God had forgotten. This is the crowning misery of man. Unless God's choosing mercy rescues him, all his boasted wisdom leaves him nothing but Satan's fool.
God's watching covers plots the victim knows nothing about. Israel's enemies hired Balaam to curse the nation. Israel knew nothing of the danger until it had already passed.
When the LORD told Moses about the evil plot against Israel, Moses might well have used the words of the Psalmist: "But you do see, for you note mischief and vexation, that you may take it into your hands" (older wording: "to repay it with Your hand"). Later Moses told the people about the danger that had threatened them. Enemies had hired Balaam the son of Beor to curse them. But the LORD their God would not listen to Balaam. Instead He turned the curse into a blessing, because the LORD their God loved them.
God does not just observe. He notes the wrong so His hand can settle the account. The long delay before that is easy to misread.
For a long time God has been a patient Observer (v. 14). But patience is not indifference, as the world will learn by terrible experience. God will repay in perfect righteousness. The helpless, who have committed themselves to Him, will find Him a real helper — a Helper of the fatherless, those who have no one on earth to depend upon.
The same principle reaches beyond Israel's story. Naboth was murdered so a king could take his vineyard. One writer applies the verse to every killing of God's people since, done under cover of law.
Rulers and governors who served the mood of the moment have been all too willing to put God's choicest saints to a cruel death at the command of the so-called "Church." But in the coming day of repayment God will remember everything done in Israel and in Christendom. He will yet avenge innocent blood (Rev. 18:24).
The middle of the verse describes an act of the sufferer: he leaves himself with God. Notice how the argument runs — the worse the case, the stronger the claim.
Faith still holds with confidence to an All-seeing One, as interested as He is observant, and sure to step in. The wretched one, sunk in affliction, still hands himself over to the One who has proved Himself the helper of those with no natural help. The evil at its worst is simply the supreme need that God must answer, and He takes that need on Himself. With every other help cut off, is not such a soul exactly this "orphan" to whom He is pledged?
The verse calls them "the fatherless." The name points to what they do not have.
They are "the fatherless" (ver. 14). They have no natural protector; no one on earth to stand up in their defence, and protect their rights.
The same writer turns that description into a test for the reader.
The wicked in his pride does persecute "the poor." He does indeed, no matter what the age may be. As soon as "the poor" is in evidence he simply itches to persecute him. The wicked we have with us right enough. But where is the poor? Well, if the wicked of this age compliment us and pat us on the back, it raises some serious questions!
The closing verses give God's answer. Even the prayer He answers is His own work.
Jehovah has heard the desire of the humble. He prepared their heart, and then He listened. That listening will show itself in judging — in being Judge for the fatherless and the oppressed. Then the man of the earth, the man whose strength and hope were in the earth, will oppress no more.
- Seen. The oppressor rests his whole confidence on a lie he tells himself: that God has forgotten. God has seen all along.
- Noted. Seeing is not passive. God observes mischief with repayment in view, and long patience is not indifference.
- Committed. The sufferer's part is to hand himself over to God. The deeper the trouble, the stronger his claim on the One who has pledged Himself to the helpless.
- Helped. "The fatherless" have no one on earth to defend them. Having no other protector is what gives them their claim on God.
- Ended. God prepares the heart to pray. He hears the prayer. Then He judges for the fatherless and the oppressed, and oppression stops for good.
Break thou the arm of the wicked, and as for the evil man, seek out his wickedness [till] thou find none.
For fourteen verses this psalm describes a violent man. Verse 15 turns from describing him to praying against him — so who is he, and may a Christian pray like this today?
The prayer targets a man the psalm has already described. One writer traces the thread that runs through him: pride.
He persecutes the poor, but it is his pride that moves him to do it. He is covetous and "blesses the covetous" (v. 3), and his pride leads him to boast of this evil feature. Again, he has no desire for God: "God is not in all his thoughts" (v. 4), and this is because of the pride of his countenance. He totally excludes God from his thoughts, because he is filled with self-sufficiency and imagines that he will never be moved... No wonder then that in verse 15 we have the prayer, "Break the arm of the wicked and the evil man" — a prayer which will be answered in due time.
One writer looks ahead. The description of the wicked man, he says, will finally fit one person at the end of the age.
When the wicked one rises up from character to a person, it will come true in the antichrist of the last days and in the midst of the Jews as here. As the Lord is from heaven, so he is emphatically from the earth — frail man but energised by Satan. The Psalm answers much to the cry of the elect, according to the parable of the widow who keeps asking, whom God at length avenges.
The second half of the verse asks for more than a defeat. Another translation reads, "seek out his wickedness till you find none" — God hunts the evil down until the search comes up empty. Faith already sees the result.
Then with the cry comes the flash of recognition: "Break the arm of the wicked and the evil one! You will seek out his wickedness till there is no more to find." And then the glorious accomplishment seems before the sight: "Jehovah is King for ever and ever: the nations are perished out of His land." The cleansing is done, the evil is thrown out... Only faith grasps this now, but it does grasp it. Faith can be as sure as if the thing were done.
Another writer shows what this breaking will look like, in almost physical detail.
"Break the arm of the wicked and evil man" (v. 15). We read the answer to this in Zechariah 11:17: "Woe to my worthless shepherd, who deserts the flock! May the sword strike his arm and his right eye! Let his arm be wholly withered, his right eye utterly blinded!" Sudden and dreadful will this judgment be!
One writer warns against taking the verse as a model for how Christians should pray about enemies now.
"Break the arm of the wicked and evildoer; call his wickedness to account till you find none" (Ps. 10:15). This is not language for a Christian under persecution. It suits those who stand with Christ when the days of His patience are over, and He is acting in judgment towards the world.
What the verse still teaches is where vengeance belongs. Another writer turns it into a warning about our own tempers.
At the same time, the godly man knows that "vengeance" belongs to God. This is surely a truth the Christian needs to remember... In the presence of provocation, anger, and deliberate insults, let us beware of seeking to take vengeance. The insults and injustice may stir righteous anger. Still, we cannot be trusted to take vengeance. That the Lord keeps in His own hands.
Clearing out the evil is not the end. It makes room for a kingdom that lasts.
But God, having broken the arm of the wicked, the nations also have perished out of His land by His judgment; He is King for ever and ever. "The man of the earth" will no more oppress.
- Pride — The earlier verses draw the man in this prayer. He shuts God out of his thoughts and imagines he will never be moved.
- Person — The wicked one is not just a type. He becomes one man, "the man of the earth," frail but energised by Satan.
- Purged — The prayer asks for more than a broken arm. It asks God to search out the wickedness until none is left.
- Postponed, not denied — God will answer this prayer in due time. Faith already holds it as sure as if it were done.
- Placed in God's hands — These words do not suit a Christian under persecution today. Vengeance is one thing the Lord keeps to Himself.
Jehovah is King for ever and ever the nations have perished out of his land.
Most of this psalm describes a wicked man who pushes God out of his thoughts and scoffs at his enemies. Verse 16 answers him with a settled announcement: who really holds the throne, and a land cleared of the nations that seized it.
Nothing outward has changed here. What changes is what the sufferer sees. One writer traces how the cry against the wicked passes straight into this song:
Then with the cry comes the flash of recognition: "Break the arm of the wicked and the evil one! You will seek out his wickedness till there is no more to find." And then the glorious accomplishment seems to be there before his eyes: "Jehovah is King for ever and ever: the nations have perished out of His land." The cleansing is complete. The evil is thrown out. The nations that forced their way into Jehovah's land are found there no more. It is still only faith that grasps this, but it is grasped. Faith can be as sure as if the thing were done.
A dictionary entry traces the word behind "for ever" through other statements about God:
ad: very often translated "for ever," and with another word, olam, "for ever and ever." "The LORD will reign forever and ever." Exodus 15:18. "The LORD is king forever and ever." Psalm 10:16... Ad is also translated "everlasting": "Everlasting Father," or "Father of the everlasting age." Isaiah 9:6. Also "eternity": "the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity." Isaiah 57:15.
The second half of the verse assumes an owner. One writer draws out what it meant for Israel that the land belonged to God:
The Jew should have found it a precious support that underneath rules like these stood one principle: the land belonged to Jehovah. This secures an inalienable title for Israel in the long run. The Gentiles have trodden down the land and its capital for many centuries; but their times will be fulfilled.
Earlier in the psalm the wicked man tells himself he will never be moved. One writer sets that boast beside the same words on the lips of a godly man:
The wicked man, trusting in himself, "said in his heart, I shall not be moved," only to come under the judgment of the LORD (Psalm 10:6, 16). The godly man, trusting in the LORD at his right hand, can say, "I shall not be moved." And he can say it with complete confidence. For if the Lord says, "I will never leave you nor forsake you," then we can confidently say, "The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?" (Heb. 13:5-6).
The psalm calls the oppressor "the man of the earth." One writer names the One who ends him:
The godly are carried on in thought to the setting up of the kingdom on earth in power. Nothing short of this is God's design. Nothing less will meet the need of His tried, persecuted, earthly people. And notice who will bring this happy outcome about: One who is a man, and could die. He will show everyone what the wicked one of Psalm 10 really is. That man banishes God from his thoughts in the pride of his heart and scoffs at his enemies. He is only a man of the earth. He must give way before the power of the Son of Man, who, though He has died, will return as man to reign.
The verse is not only about enemies removed. One writer reads the psalm's close as a prayer answered:
Anticipating God's intervention, the godly celebrate with praise His answer to their appeal. As a result, the judgment of the wicked, summed up in Antichrist, will bring in the everlasting kingdom of the Lord — "The LORD is king forever and ever." As for the godly, God will answer their prayer, establish their heart, and end their sufferings. Never again will "the man of the earth" terrify them.
- Cry. The psalm shows a wicked man who banishes God from his thoughts and boasts that he will never be moved.
- Certainty. Faith sings this answer before the rescue comes. It is as sure to the believing heart as if it were done.
- Crown. "For ever and ever" is the language of eternity itself, the same word used of the One who inhabits eternity.
- Cleansing. The land is His, held in trust, never forfeited; the nations who trod it down have their allotted time, and it ends.
- Consequence. The man of the earth gives way before the Son of Man. God hears the oppressed. The boast "I shall not be moved" is left to God alone — and to those who lean on Him.
Jehovah, thou hast heard the desire of the meek, thou hast established their heart thou causest thine ear to hear,
Psalm 10 spends sixteen verses staring at an oppressor who acts as if God were blind. Then the psalm turns and speaks to God as one who has already listened. Verse 17 is that turn: the prayer is answered, and the answer begins further back than the prayer itself. (The ESV says "the afflicted." Older translations use "the humble," and the writers quoted here follow that wording.)
The verse belongs to the psalm's closing praise. That praise is sung before the rescue has come.
(vv. 16-18) Anticipating God's intervention, the godly celebrate with praise His answer to their appeal. The judgment of the wicked, summed up in Antichrist, will usher in the everlasting kingdom of the Lord — "The Lord is King for ever." As for the godly, their prayer will be answered, their heart established, their sufferings over. Never again will "the man of the earth" terrify them.
The verse names three acts of God, and their order matters. He does not overhear a desire that came from nowhere. The desire He answers is the desire He produced.
Jehovah has heard the desire of the humble. He prepared their heart, and then listened. That hearing will be in judging — in being Judge for the fatherless and the oppressed. So the man of the earth, the one whose strength and hope were there, should oppress no more.
What God stirs up in a person, He commits Himself to satisfy.
God will fill the hungry because He Himself has stirred up the hunger. As with prayer, when God prepares the heart to pray, He prepares His ear to hear (Ps. 10:17). So with spiritual hunger: when God prepares the heart to hunger, He will prepare His hand to fill.
The verse does not say God hears the desire of the eloquent or the deserving. Humility is not a decoration on prayer; it is what makes prayer prayer at all.
A spiritual prayer is a humble prayer: "Lord, you have heard the desire of the humble." Prayer is asking for charity, and that needs humility. It is fitting to see a poor nothing lying at the feet of its Maker: "Behold, I have undertaken to speak to the Lord, I who am but dust and ashes" (Gen. 18:27). The lower the heart descends, the higher the prayer ascends. God accepts broken expressions when they come from broken hearts.
If God's ear follows the heart He prepares, the state of the heart is no side issue in prayer.
How few of the countless prayers continually offered — often sincerely, too — spring from a well so deep and pure! We are invited to make our requests known to God, whatever the burdened heart is aware of. How great is His grace! But prayer to God is always tied to communion, the state of the heart before Him. "If our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God." How often the heart groans, yet not to Him! "They do not cry to me from the heart, but they wail upon their beds" (Hos. 7:14). "You will prepare their heart, you will cause your ear to hear." Fruitfulness to God, and the promise that He answers all prayer, are inseparably tied to abiding in Him.
Commentators also read the psalm as a picture of Israel's future. Verse 17 is the relief on the far side of the trouble.
"The Lord is King forever and ever" (v. 16). The challenge of the antichrist will have been completely silenced. No such challenge will ever rise again. Christ will reign for the thousand years of peace, and for eternity nothing can change His title of all authority. The nations that dared to attack His land will have perished. The psalmist voices the gratitude of the humble: the Lord has heard their prayer, and He will also prepare their heart for the unmixed blessing that will be theirs (v. 17).
The prepared heart does not arrive alone.
This passage shows the Lord's kingdom that lasts forever. With it come the deliverance of the land of Israel from foreign rule, the humbling of the people before God, and His preparation of their heart.
- Prepared — God works first: He prepared their heart, and then listened. The prayer He answers is the prayer He produced.
- Humbled — the desire He hears is the humble one. The lower the heart descends, the higher the prayer ascends.
- Heard — when God prepares the heart to pray, He prepares His ear to hear; when He stirs hunger, He prepares His hand to fill.
- Abiding — His ear follows the heart He prepares. So answered prayer grows out of communion with Him, not out of many words.
- Delivered — the hearing ends in judging. Prayer answered, heart established, suffering over, the oppressor silenced under a King who reigns forever.
To do justice to the fatherless and the oppressed one, that the man of the earth may terrify no more.
Psalm 10 spends seventeen verses watching a wicked man do as he pleases — hurting the poor, boasting, and leaving God out of his thinking. The last verse answers all of it in one sentence, and raises one question: who is this "man of the earth"?
This verse finishes the sentence before it. One writer follows the steps: God prepares, hears, then judges.
Jehovah has heard the desire of the humble. He prepared their heart, and then listened. That listening will be in judging — in being Judge for the fatherless and the oppressed. So the man of the earth, the one who had his strength and hope there, should no more oppress.
The verse names two people God acts for: the fatherless and the oppressed. One writer shows what that action costs the oppressor, and what it gains the world.
So, in perfect righteousness He champions the cause of the fatherless and the oppressed over "the man of the earth," so that all oppression may cease (v. 18). The dreadful end of the man of sin will mean the greatest relief and blessing for the whole world.
Older translations end this verse "that the man of the earth may no more oppress," and the writers below quote from them. Hebrew has more than one word for "man," and the choice here matters.
In the Old Testament several words are used for "man." One of them is enosh, which we are told carries the sense of "frail mortal man," and is almost a term of contempt. This is the word used when the Psalmist asks his question in Psalm 9: "Arise, O Lord; let not man prevail" — and again, "Put them in fear, O Lord; that the nations may know themselves to be but men." It is used once more in Psalm 10, when he speaks of "the man of the earth."
The second half of the title matters too. This man can look impressive, but his reach stops at the ground.
Enosh may look like quite a big man to himself, and to others. When he rises to his full height he may do many pretentious things. He may defy God. He may oppress those who fear God. But after all, he is only "the frail, mortal man of the earth." With heaven he has nothing to do.
One writer traces every side of this man's evil back to a single root.
He persecutes the poor, but it is his pride that moves him to do it. He is covetous and "blesses the covetous" (v. 3), and his pride leads him to boast of this evil trait. Again, he has no desire for God: "God is not in all his thoughts" (v. 4), and this is because of the pride of his countenance. He completely shuts God out of his thoughts. Self-sufficiency fills him, and he imagines that he will never be moved.
One writer reads the phrase as pointing past any local tyrant to a final one, with a careful limit on how far the Psalms take it.
The book of Psalms speaks of this coming one in prophecy, in his character as "the man of the earth" (Ps. 10:18), and also as "the bloody and deceitful man" (Ps. 5:6). These descriptions do fit the wicked in general in the coming crisis. Yet there is one person, and only one, to whom they can refer in the fullest sense. It is the character of the Antichrist, and not his person, that is before us in these and other Psalms.
The oppressor is a man. So is the One who removes him, and that contrast closes the psalm.
So the godly are carried forward in thought to the setting up of the kingdom in power on earth. Nothing less than this is God's design, and nothing less will meet the need of His tried, persecuted, earthly people. And we should notice who will bring this happy outcome about: One who is a man, and could die. He will show everyone that the wicked one of Psalm 10 is only a man of the earth. That is the man who in the pride of his heart banishes God from his thoughts and sneers at his enemies. He must give way before the power of the Son of Man, who, though He has died, will return as man to reign.
- Heard. God prepares the desire of the humble before He answers it. The prayer itself is His gift.
- Judged. His way of listening is to act as Judge; the fatherless and the oppressed get a courtroom, not just sympathy.
- Frail. The oppressor's title is his sentence — enosh, frail mortal man. The earth is his whole domain; he has nothing to do with heaven.
- Proud. What makes him wicked is pride: it drives the cruelty, the greed, and the shutting of God out of his thoughts.
- Overthrown. A man of the earth falls before the Son of Man, and when he falls, oppression itself ends — relief for the whole world.
(To the chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David.) In Jehovah have I put my trust how say ye to my soul, Flee [as] a bird to your mountain?
The psalm opens with trust already settled, and then advice aimed at the speaker's own soul: run away, hide in the hills. Who gives that advice, and why does faith refuse it?
Faith's refuge is real, but no one else can see it. That is why the mocking comes.
We begin with the LORD as the one thing strong enough to steady the soul. He, the living, unchanging God, is the sure refuge of the faith that clings to Him. Only the eye of faith sees this refuge. So men may mock and threaten the weakness that is all they can see. They do not see the arms that surround and hold the weak one. But he states his safety out loud, and the reasons for it. No one can rob us of it while we cling to it, and confidence grows as we say it.
The advice to flee is the world's advice: fall back on what you have stored up.
Whatever our difficulties may be, we must watch that they do not affect the state of our soul. If faith is active, we will refuse to look for help in outward circumstances. When we go through trials the world tells us: Look for your help in the mountain; use the resources you have laid up for yourself in this world. Faith answers with David: No, because there is no foundation here on earth that will not be destroyed. But "the LORD is in His holy temple; the LORD's throne is in heaven" (Ps. 11:4). That is where I take refuge.
With the foundations gone, running looks like the sensible answer.
Psalm 11 sees clearly that there is no hope in man on the earth, that nothing earthly is stable, and that evil has brought in ruin. The foundations are cast down, and what are the righteous to do?… There is a time when the Lord warns us to flee, when no action and no patience is of any use. That is not the case here. It is only so when God hands everything over to the wicked for a time. Fear and unbelief would urge flight, like a bird, away from the scene to a place of refuge and human security. Faith looks higher. "In the LORD I take refuge." Trust in the LORD, who is above all. Nothing is unknown to Him, and nothing escapes Him. His faithfulness never changes. Not a sparrow falls to the ground without Him. Whatever man's plans are, in the end He orders everything. He is our Father. Trust in Him is the resource and the peace-giving feeling of the righteous. By its very nature this gives a perfect walk and calmness at all times, because circumstances do not govern the feelings.
The opening line is a decision already made. It does not wait for the odds to improve.
This psalm expresses the resolve not to flee. For the righteous it was a question of absolute trust in the LORD, whatever the wicked might do or say. If every resource failed, that was simply the moment for Him to act for Himself and His own, as He surely will.
The same suggestion turns up elsewhere in Scripture.
Will he listen to those who advise him to "flee like a bird to your mountain"? (v.1). Satan wants to put the believer in fear. He used this method when trying to intimidate Nehemiah through Shemaiah's suggestion (Neh. 6:10-11), but Nehemiah was not deceived. He answered, "Should such a man as I flee?" Satan also influenced Pharisees to try the same trick on the Lord Jesus. They told Him, "Get out and depart from here, for Herod wants to kill you" (Luke 13:31). So David in this psalm chooses to trust in the Lord rather than give in to fright.
Commentators read the psalm as the voice of a suffering people still to come, yet not for them alone.
It is the utterance of the afflicted remnant in the last days. But Jesus was their pattern and forerunner in His sorrows at the hand of man.
The psalm looks on to a future trial of the godly. Yet the principles apply to God's people at any time while Christ is away, when evil works in secret and undermines the foundations of the Christian faith. Yet the believer's confidence is that the Holy Spirit is still on the throne in heaven. The believer knows what God is like. That assures him God must deal with the evil in due time and bring His people into blessing. For now He uses the evil for their good.
- Refuge first. Start where the psalm starts: God is the one stable thing. Everything else follows from that.
- Refuge unseen. Others mock because they see only your weakness, not the arms around you. Say your trust out loud, and confidence grows.
- Refuge rivalled. "Your mountain" is the world's offer: fall back on your own stored-up resources. No earthly foundation survives.
- Refuge tested. Fear says run. Faith looks higher. Nothing escapes God, so trust keeps you calm and circumstances stop ruling your feelings.
- Refuge shared. Nehemiah refused to flee. The Lord Jesus refused Herod's threat. The same holds for God's people now, and God turns even evil to their good.
For behold, the wicked bend the bow, they make ready their arrow upon the string, that they may in darkness shoot at the upright in heart.
A voice has just urged the psalmist to fly away like a bird to safety, and this verse gives the reason: the archers are already in position. So should visible danger set the believer's course? And is an attack you cannot see a reason to run?
The bow turns up often in Scripture, and it carries a settled meaning.
The common weapon for shooting arrows. It stands as a symbol of the hidden attacks of the wicked against the righteous. Ps. 11:2; Ps. 37:14-15. A "bow of steel" means great strength. Job 20:24. The wicked are like a "deceitful bow" — one that snaps when you lean on it. Ps. 78:57; Hosea 7:16.
The verse names its target by character, not by name. Two things come under fire at once: the people, and what their faith rests on.
Verses 2 and 3 set forth the character of evil with which the godly are faced. The opposition is not open; it works "in the dark". In secret, the enemy attacks the upright in heart and the foundations of their faith. Faced with these hidden dangers, what are the righteous to do?
Shooting from the shadows says something about the shooter. He has a reason for staying out of sight.
The psalmist is not frightened, and nothing moves him from his confidence of faith. Yet he is well aware of the enemy's threats — the bending of their bow, with arrows ready to fly. And the enemy is a coward. He does not want anyone to watch his crafty evil, so he shoots in the dark, clearly hoping his arrows will hit their target.
Darkness also means the threat cannot be located. The peril is certain; its direction is not.
In such a day as the psalms look forward to, the first danger looms large and serious enough: it is personal peril. The danger is there, and yet just where it will strike is uncertain. But the evil grows, and the moral question raised by this uprising under the government of God becomes the deepest one.
This verse looks like the strongest case for running away. But the timing of flight is God's to decide, not fear's.
There is a time when the Lord warns us to flee, when no action and no patience will help. That is not the case here. It is only so when God hands everything over to the wicked for a time. Fear and unbelief would urge flight, like a bird, away from the scene to a place of refuge and human safety. Faith looks higher: "In the LORD I take refuge" — older translations read, "In Jehovah put I my trust." Trust in the LORD, who is above all, from whom nothing is hidden, whom nothing escapes, whose faithfulness never changes, without whom not a sparrow falls to the ground, who orders everything in the end, whatever man's plans are, and who is our Father.
The psalm answers these hidden dangers by pointing away from the archers to where God dwells and rules.
The Lord is the resource of the righteous; His holy temple is on earth; His throne is in heaven. The temple speaks of His dwelling place. However ruined and defiled that place may be, faith still recognizes that God has a place on earth. His throne — speaking of His government — is still in heaven where no evil can enter. He still rules over all. The effort of man is to rid himself of the presence of God on the earth and to throw off His government from heaven.
God is not only watching. He is at work on the righteous themselves, and He has a purpose in it.
Jehovah tests the righteous. When His eyes, which see all things according to His own purity, test the children of men, He has an aim for the righteous: He proves and sifts them. This is a most important truth — God is active in dealing with the righteous. He works to carry out His own gracious purposes for them, to show His own character, and to judge, and lead them to judge, everything that does not match it.
- Bow — the drawn bow is Scripture's picture of hidden attacks on the righteous, not open warfare.
- Dark — the enemy shoots unseen because he will not be watched. The danger is real, but no one can trace where it comes from.
- Target — the aim is at the upright in heart and at the foundations their faith stands on.
- Flight — fear says escape to a mountain; faith answers that nothing escapes the One who orders everything.
- Throne — His government is in heaven, where no evil can enter, and from there He sifts the righteous for their good.
If the foundations be destroyed, what shall the righteous do?
David hears one piece of advice — fly away like a bird to the mountains, out of reach of the danger closing in on the upright. Then comes the question every believer reaches when the supports of life give way: is anything left standing above the wreckage?
One writer reads it as the ordinary protections a good man relies on.
This is the meditation of a soul in great outward perplexity. The natural securities of the righteous, "the foundations" of the social order, kings and judges (see Psalm 82; Rom. 13), are giving way. But God is still in His due place — that is the soul's relief.
Another notices the plural: foundations, not foundation. He finds there the order God built into the world itself.
But Psalm 11 uses the plural — "foundations" — for this speaks of the basic truths connected with creation; for instance, "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth" (Gen. 1:1). Evolution wants to attack and destroy this fact. Wicked boldness in adultery and homosexuality also attacks the marriage relationship God established in Genesis 2:24.
The danger is real. But the deeper question is moral: how can such a rising happen under God's government?
The danger is there, yet just where is uncertain. But the evil grows, and the moral question of this rising under the government of God becomes the deepest: "if the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?" The path seems lost in this complete confusion.
Two answers are on offer: run, or look up. Commentators note that God does sometimes tell His people to flee — but not here.
There is a time when the Lord warns His people to flee, when no action and no patience is of any use. This is not the case here… Fear and unbelief would urge flight, like a bird, away from the scene to a place of refuge and human security. Faith looks higher… Trust in the Lord. He is above all. Nothing is unknown to Him, and nothing escapes Him. His faithfulness never changes. Not a sparrow falls to the ground without Him. After all, He orders everything, whatever man's plans are. He is our Father.
The righteous man has no defence in himself. His answer sits above, out of the wreckers' reach — and from there God tests people, including His own.
All the foundations are destroyed. The righteous, though righteous, have no defence in themselves. But there is a God who sits above, where the workings of the ungodly do not touch the foundations of His throne. From there He tries the children of men, and so He tries the righteous indeed.
One writer borrows this cry when the person of Christ is under attack. He applies it to the confession on which the church is built.
You have no ground to receive as a Christian anyone who tampers with the purity, glory, or integrity of the person of Christ. The Church is founded on Christ the Son of God. If this rock is shaken, all is gone. "If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?"
The question is not left hanging. When the visible order breaks up, obedience does not stop. It gets simpler.
But if, as we have seen, the visible foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous still do? They can own God still, and give Him glory in His place. Let them rest on the faithful promise of the Lord. And let them boldly use the liberty He has given them of meeting in His name, whenever and wherever they wish — while humbly and sorrowfully admitting the general disorder.
Danger does not weaken this security. It puts it on display.
The Psalmist in triumph exclaims, "If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do? The Lord is in His holy temple!" Yes — our security looks greatest when we see it in the middle of dangers and alarms. The very depth of the waters around honoured the strength and sufficiency of the ark to Noah.
- Foundations. Some read these as the props of ordered society — kings and judges. Others read the plural as creation, marriage and family. Either way, the righteous did not build them and cannot repair them.
- Falling. The verse admits the collapse. The deepest trouble is not the danger itself. It is the moral question: how does evil rise so high under God's government?
- Fleeing. Fear says escape to a mountain. Faith refuses a human refuge, because God orders everything, down to a falling sparrow.
- Foundation. The righteous have no defence in themselves. But God's throne above has foundations no wicked hand reaches. The same holds for the confession of Christ as Son of God.
- Faithfulness. So what can the righteous do? Own God still, rest on His promise, meet in His name. Ruin all around is what makes His security visible.
Jehovah [is] in the temple of his holiness; Jehovah, -- his throne is in the heavens his eyes behold, his eyelids try the children of men.
David has just been told to flee to the mountain, as if nothing on earth were safe. This verse is his answer. He does not run sideways; he looks up. Two things still stand when nothing on earth does: God's dwelling and God's throne. And from there God watches every person.
David rejects advice to find safety on earth. One writer sets the verse against that instinct and shows why the advice fails:
When we go through trials the world tells us: Seek your help in the mountain; use the resources which you have laid up for yourself in this world. Faith answers with David: No. Every foundation here on earth will be destroyed. But "The LORD is in His holy temple; the LORD's throne is in heaven." That is where I take refuge.
The verse names two things. One is the place where God dwells. The other is the seat from which He rules:
The Lord is the resource of the righteous; His holy temple is on earth; His throne is in heaven. The temple speaks of His dwelling place, and, however ruined and defiled it may be, faith still recognizes that God has a place on earth. His throne — speaking of His government — is still in heaven where no evil can enter. He still rules over all. The effort of man is to rid himself of the presence of God on the earth and to throw off His government from heaven. Despite these efforts the House of God and the Throne of God — the foundations of all blessing for men — remains.
The second half of the verse turns from where God is to what God does. He is not a distant ruler but an attentive one — and His patience is not indifference:
He is in perfect control of all the circumstances of earth. "His eyes see, His eyelids test the children of man." He knows every detail of what men do. He lets the evil of men go on until He has finished testing them. Remember: God is testing the ungodly by being patient with them for so long. But they fail the test, and the results will follow.
God's testing is more than inspection. The same searching look that exposes the wicked has a different aim for those who trust Him:
Everything on earth is overturned and in confusion. There is no security for the righteous here. But the LORD is in His holy temple; His throne is in heaven... He does not slumber or sleep; the righteous may leave his cause to Him... When He who sees all things according to His own purity tests the children of man, He has a purpose for the righteous: He proves and sifts them. This is a most important truth — God is at work with the righteous, to carry out His own gracious purposes for them... and at the same time He subdues their wills and wins their affections, by the sense of His faithfulness and love. The breaking of the will is a great means of opening the understanding.
If God sees everything, the obvious objection is that He does nothing about it. The answer is that His rule is real but not yet on display:
The present state of things is not in any way a revelation of the government of God. Faith knows that God has the upper hand, and that all things work together for good for those who love Him. But He is not governing directly right now. If He were, the present state of things would show His verdict on good and evil here below. If it were so, no evil could be allowed. The righteous would flourish, and all he does prosper. But it is not so.
Even strong faith feels this delay. One writer applies the verse to John the Baptist, left in prison while he waited for the Messiah to act:
He is surprised to find himself left in prison by the One he understood to be the Messiah, who was to right all wrongs... and the Lord seems to take no notice. It was the kind of doubt a great mind feels in times of discouragement — doubt about whether the course taken has been right after all. It was the kind of depression every upright mind feels when God appears to take no notice while everything goes badly wrong, "when His eyelids test the children of man."
- Refuge — Every foundation on earth will fall. The temple and the throne will not. So faith shelters there, not in the mountain.
- Rule — The temple speaks of God's dwelling, the throne of His government; men try to be rid of both, and both remain.
- Sight — Nothing escapes Him. His long patience with evil is itself a test, and the wicked are failing it.
- Sifting — The same gaze that exposes the wicked also proves and sifts the righteous. It breaks the will to open the understanding.
- Waiting — Today's conditions are not God's verdict on good and evil. If they were, He could allow no evil at all.
Jehovah trieth the righteous one; but the wicked, and him that loveth violence, his soul hateth.
When evil wins and good people suffer, what is God doing? This verse answers: He is testing the righteous, and He hates the man who loves violence.
The verse before speaks of God's eyes and eyelids; this verse tells us what that gaze is doing. Even when God's house on earth is gone, His throne is not.
Even if the Lord's sanctuary is no longer found on earth, He is still in His heavenly temple, and no sin of man can drive Him from it. From there He still rules the earth. Because He is quiet, men hardly think it is so. Yet He keeps the most perfect watch over them all.
God's testing is His own work, and it has an aim.
His eyelids see all things according to His own purity. When He tests the children of men, He has an aim for the righteous: He proves and sifts them. This is a most important truth. God is at work with the righteous, to carry out His own gracious purposes towards them and to display His own character. He judges everything that does not match His character, and He leads them to judge it too. So He gives them the understanding of what He is, and shapes their character to match it. At the same time He subdues their wills and wins their affections by the sense of His faithfulness and love. The breaking of the will is a great means of opening the understanding.
Why does God test the righteous while the wicked go untouched? The answer lies in His love for them.
But He tests the righteous too: the very ones He loves, and because He loves them, for the sake of what the trial works, in them and through them, for His glory. This may make the wicked, who are the tools of this trial, forget or ignore that He hates "the wicked and the one who loves violence."
Everyone is under examination, but the results part company.
The ungodly fail the test, so God casts them aside in judgment, while He keeps on testing the righteous. Why? Because "the tested genuineness of your faith" is "more precious than gold that perishes" (1 Peter 1:7). Fiery trial proves faith and makes it more beautiful. The same trial shows the wicked in their true character — the character the Lord hates.
The second half of the verse is the hardest line to read. One writer ties that hatred straight to what God loves.
To love righteousness is to hate its opposite, iniquity. The more intense the love of righteousness, the more intense the hatred of iniquity.
If God tests the righteous and hates the violent, why does the violent man appear to win? Because the display is still ahead.
In the days of the Antichrist, God's rule is not on outward display. Evil abounds, the wicked triumph, and the godly are tried. Still, faith knows that God hates the wicked and the violent, and that His favour is towards the upright. The judgment that will soon fall on the wicked will make this plain. But for the moment the Lord holds back from dealing with the evil. He uses the circumstances to test the righteous, for their blessing and His glory.
- Tested, not abandoned. God is not only watching. His testing works for the righteous, shaping them to His own character and opening their understanding.
- Tested because loved. God tests "the very ones He loves, and because He loves them." The trial proves the love; it does not deny it.
- Tested with different results. The same test covers everyone. The wicked fail it and are set aside. Trial refines the righteous, and their faith comes out more precious than gold.
- Hated for what is loved. God's hatred of violence measures His love of righteousness. The two rise together.
- Tested now, revealed later. For now God's rule is hidden and the violent seem to win. Faith holds this verse as true before the judgment makes it plain.
Upon the wicked he shall rain snares, fire and brimstone; and scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup.
In Psalm 11 the psalmist is told to run for the hills, and he refuses, because God still rules from heaven. Verse 6 is where that confidence lands: the God who tests men will one day rain fire on the violent — but what is that fire, and whose cup does it fill?
The verse closes an argument about how God rules while evil seems to have the upper hand.
The Lord tests the righteous. The story of Job teaches us this, and it pictures what happens to Israel. The way things are now does not reveal how God governs at all. Faith knows God has the upper hand, and that all things work together for good to those who love Him. But God is not governing in an immediate way — one that would make the present state of things show His verdict on good and evil here on earth. If it were so, no evil could be allowed. The righteous would flourish, and everything he did would prosper. But it is not so… He tests all His saints. As for the wicked, whom He hates, He will rain judgment on them — snares, and fire and brimstone.
Older translations read "snares" here where the ESV reads "coals". The words come from one event — the burning of Sodom — and that event tells you what the "snares" are: not traps set on the ground, but the falling fire itself.
The picture comes from the destruction of Sodom. That destruction is a solemn picture of the world's judgment, and our Lord pointed to it when He spoke of His own coming. (Luke 17:28-30, 32.) The "snares" are clearly the fire and brimstone themselves, rained down from heaven. They lay hold of men before they know they are in danger, as happened to Lot's wife: "while people are saying, 'There is peace and security,' then sudden destruction will come upon them."
Brimstone is the older word for sulfur. It is a real substance, and it carries a fixed meaning.
Bitumen, pitch, or sulphur, which is still found in its raw state in Palestine. In God's judgement it was rained from heaven. Gen. 19:24; Ps. 11:6; Luke 17:29. It is a symbol of what will add to the torment and anguish of the wicked. Rev. 20:10; Rev. 21:8.
Some readers call the verse cruel. One writer meets that objection from the next verse.
The torment of literal fire is dreadful. But it stands for something worse — the torment of bearing the judgment of God for eternity. Is this cruel and unfair, as some men protest? No: it is because the Lord is righteous (v. 7) that He judges as He does. He loves righteousness, and the light of His face rests with pleasure on the upright. So the ungodly reap what they have sown, and the righteous reap what they have sown. This is certainly fair and just.
Fire, sulfur, and scorching wind are all called one thing — the portion of their cup. That turns the storm into a drink, and a cup in Scripture can be filled either way.
In regard to the "cup," it has, as an expression, a very distinct meaning in Scripture. (See Ps. 11:6; Ps. 16:5; Ps. 23:5; John 18:11, etc.) From these and many other passages it clearly means what a person is passing through, whether blessing or sorrow, along with the experience that goes with it. So in Psalm 23 it is an overflowing cup of blessing. In John 18 it stands for all the sorrows that came on our blessed Lord through His rejection and death.
That cup has already been drunk once. One writer sets out the choice this leaves us.
He looked at the cup and prayed to be spared it, but said, I will drink it. Our eternal salvation hung upon His drinking that cup. If He did not bear that wrath and judgment, we must; and if He did not drink that cup, we must drink it… Thank God, my Saviour has drained it for me. He has drained it to the very last drop. He has filled another cup — the cup of salvation — to the brim with love. He has put that cup to my lips, and I drink, and receive eternal life.
Five steps carry the verse — from God's throne down to the cup each person receives.
- Throne. God's silence is not absence. He rules while evil runs loose, and the way things look now is no measure of His verdict.
- Trial. The same God who tests the righteous hates the wicked. One He proves; the other He judges.
- Storm. Judgment falls as it fell on Sodom — without warning. The falling fire is itself the snare, catching people who thought they were safe.
- Cup. A cup is what a person receives and tastes — blessing in Psalm 23, wrath here. It is measured, personal, and it is theirs.
- Escape. Christ drained the cup of judgment and filled another cup — salvation — to the brim. If He had not drunk it, we would have to.
For righteous is Jehovah; he loveth righteousness, his countenance doth behold the upright.
Psalm 11 ends with a reason. When evil is winning and the godly are being tried, it answers with God's character, and rests everything there.
One writer sets the verse in a time when evil rules openly and God's government is hidden from sight:
During the reign of Antichrist, the government of God is not on open display. Evil abounds, the wicked triumph, and the godly are tried. Still, faith knows that God hates the wicked and the violent, and that His favour is toward the upright. The judgment that will soon fall on the wicked will show this. For now, though, the Lord holds back from dealing with the evil. He uses these circumstances to test the righteous, for their blessing and His glory.
Notice the order in the verse: God is righteous first, then He loves righteous deeds. One writer explains why God cannot stay neutral while good and evil are in conflict:
Good and evil are in conflict everywhere and at all times. So "the righteous LORD" who "loves righteousness," and whose "countenance beholds the upright," must show Himself on behalf of what He loves. God's righteousness here is clearly, and always, part of His character, an attribute of God Himself. It is not a gift given to man in any way. Yet it is tied to the salvation of His people, for whom He will at last appear, after a long and needed discipline of suffering.
God's righteousness moves in two directions, and the two are not the same:
It is clear there are two kinds of righteousness — justice against evil, and a proper appreciation and even reward of good. "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay, says the Lord" is a different thing from "the righteous LORD loves righteousness, His countenance beholds the upright"; though both, in themselves, are the just estimate of good and evil.
The same distinction answers a common objection to God's judgment on the wicked:
Is this cruel and unfair, as some men protest? No: it is because the Lord is righteous (v. 7) that He judges as He does. He loves righteousness, and the light of His face rests with pleasure on the upright. So the ungodly reap what they have sown, and the righteous reap what they have sown. Certainly, this is fair and just.
The last line is translated two ways. Some render it as God's face turned toward the upright; the ESV has the upright seeing His face. Read that second way, the verse ends with a promise:
As surely as "the LORD is righteous; He loves righteous deeds," "the upright shall behold His face." Fellowship now leads on to fellowship in the life to come.
The cross is where that love of righteousness was proved, and it cost Him everything:
It is good for us to consider this. The sacrifice of Christ was not simply an act of compassionate grace to free us from God's judgment of sin. He also hated the sin He died to free us from. He loved the righteousness that His cross proved right, and He maintained it at all cost. Now, from God, He is made righteousness to us.
This gives the believer one question to ask about every choice:
But whatever others may do, the rule of the man of God must always be, Is it right? Is it in harmony with the revealed will of God? Not merely, is it most practical, most likely to gain the end in view, but is it right? "The righteous LORD loves righteousness: His countenance beholds the upright."
- Because — the verse gives a reason, not advice. God is righteous, and that fact steadies faith when evil seems to win.
- Character — His righteousness is what He is, an attribute of God Himself, not a gift given to man. The same righteousness judges evil and values good.
- Cross — there He hated the sin and loved the righteousness He upheld, at full cost. Now He is made righteousness to us.
- Face — it ends in fellowship. God's face rests on the upright now; the upright will behold His face later.
- Test — so one question rules every choice: is it right?
(To the chief Musician. Upon Sheminith. A Psalm of David.) Save, Jehovah, for the godly man is gone; for the faithful have failed from among the children of men.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
They speak falsehood every one with his neighbour [with] flattering lip, with a double heart, do they speak.
Psalm 12 opens with a cry for help because trustworthy people have vanished. Verse 2 shows what fills the gap they leave. Commentators read it as speech turned into a tool: smooth on the surface, split underneath.
One writer sets this psalm beside the one before it.
This psalm presents a contrast to Psalm 11. There, the evil is working in secret: here, it flaunts itself in public. The two conditions may be found together. Evil may be quietly undermining all that is of God while, at the same time, the lawlessness of man is on public display.
Who is this neighbour? One writer places the failure among people who carry the same name and the same hope.
I think Psalm 12 applies to, or at least includes, those who carry the name and share the same hope in name only, but who were not God's children at all. It is the godly man's complaint about the state of things around him in Zion itself. He would not have been surprised to find no godly ones among the enemy nations outside.
The Hebrew behind "double heart" is blunt. One translator gives it word for word:
They speak emptiness, each with his neighbour; they speak with flattering lips and with a double heart [literally, a heart and a heart].
Verse 2 names that doubleness as the fault. One commentator traces how empty words replace faithful ones:
For a time some people stand firmly for the truth of the Word of God. But when they die, no one seems to follow in their steps. Instead, their place is taken by people who can only speak idle, useless words — words that may not be wicked in themselves, but bring no profit. Instead of faithfully giving the pure Word of God, they use flattery to build up each other's pride. They speak with a double heart: not with single-hearted honesty, not with simplicity, but with duplicity (v. 2). They know how to twist the truth to make it mean the opposite of what it says.
One writer traces flattery back to its motive, and on to what it does with the truth.
People flatter others because they like to be flattered themselves, so they build up each other's pride. They can twist the truth to please themselves. They forget that the Lord gave people tongues so that they would speak truth. Instead of recognising God, they think their tongues are their own, to use in the service of falsehood, as though they can manufacture truth out of falsehood.
Flattering lips start somewhere. One writer traces the fault back past the tongue to the man himself.
Man's misery and evil are these. He has fallen away from God and no longer believes in His love and care, so he has become the object of his own self-love and care. Self rules him, holds him down, degrades him, corrupts him. He should serve creation with blessing; instead self turns him into the oppressor and tormentor of everything under him.
The psalm does not stop at man's speech. It turns to God's.
The Lord's word comes here into swift opposition to all this. Yet it is love and pity that move Him to act — the oppression of the poor, the sighing of the needy. His promise pledges that He will step in. Then, before that happens, faith celebrates the "pure" words of the Lord. They carry no alloy of insincerity or untruth. They are like silver, the currency of exchange, completely refined.
The verse describes what any of us once were. One writer ends with a question about who owns our lips.
There was a time, before we were saved, when Psalm 12:2-4 might have applied to any one of us. I hope that my reader can say: "my lips are His". What do we use our mouths and our lips for now?
- Self — Behind the smooth lip is a man who has fallen away from God and made himself the object of his own love and care.
- Split — "Double heart" is literally "a heart and a heart" — not single-hearted honesty, but duplicity that twists truth into its opposite.
- Sweetness — Flattery is a trade: people flatter so that others will flatter them back, and both sides feed each other's pride.
- Silver — The Lord's words carry no alloy of insincerity, like silver fully refined, and He acts because the poor are sighing.
- Surrender — The test of the verse is ownership: not "our lips are our own", but "my lips are His".
Jehovah will cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that speaketh proud things,
Psalm 12 opens with an alarm. The godly man is gone, the faithful have vanished, and words between neighbours no longer carry truth. Verse 3 is the answer of faith to that world — a word aimed straight at smooth lips and a boasting tongue.
The verse does not stand alone. It follows a picture of a whole society gone false, and it names what God will deal with.
Here the mass are all alike. There is no godly man left. The faithful are gone from among the children of men. Their mouth is full of falsehood, they have the smoothest of lips, and a double heart. Jehovah will show Himself against all such, and against the tongue that speaks great things.
The "double heart" is the root the verse cuts at: one thing said, another thing meant.
Flattering lips are not just polite lips. They are lips used against their purpose, and each person props up the other's pride.
People flatter others because they like to be flattered themselves. So they build up one another's pride. Their tongues can twist the truth to please themselves. They forget that the Lord gave men tongues so that they may speak truth.
So flattery is not a harmless habit. It damages the person who receives it.
I am sure you will feel this, my dear friend and brother. One man cannot do a greater harm to another than by praising him and feeding his pride. "A man who flatters his neighbor spreads a net for his feet," and a flattering mouth works ruin.
The verse pairs flattery with big talk, and the psalm goes on to show why the two belong together. Both are ways of putting self at the centre.
The words of man show their true character: self-exaltation and self-will. They seek to lift themselves up by flattering others and boasting of themselves — speaking proud things. They express their self-will by refusing all authority: they say "who is lord over us?" As always, the man who is loudest in claiming freedom of speech and freedom of action for himself is the first to refuse freedom to others. He is the oppressor of the godly.
Translations differ here. Some read the line as a prayer — "May the LORD cut off." Others read it as a statement of what God will do, and older translations render it that way: "Jehovah will cut off." Either way, the outcome is certain. The psalm also gives the reason God acts.
They are not blind to the evil, but they can bring it to the Lord. This is the subject of Psalm 12, "Help, Jehovah, for the godly man ceases." Jehovah will cut off the proud and deceitful lips. This is the character of the wicked. He accepts no check and no restraint on his will. He says, "Who is lord over us?" But it is just for his oppression of the poor that Jehovah arises.
The psalm answers with a different speech. Flattering lips have a deadline; the words of the Lord do not.
In contrast to the empty, flattering and boastful words of men, the godly have the pure words of the Lord, with no impurity mixed in. Resting on these pure words, the righteous are sure that God will keep and preserve them from this generation — those marked by the lawless spirit of the age.
A believer cannot treat his speech as his own property. The reason is a price already paid.
Every Christian should realize that his lips are not his own for he is bought with a price. It is this precious redeeming blood of Christ that has purchased us for Himself... He purchased us for Himself by His blood, and that blood gives Him a definite claim on our lips. So we have no moral right to use them for any speech that displeases Him.
- A double heart. Flattering lips and a double heart are one sin seen twice. The words please the ear; the meaning underneath is different.
- Flattery injures. Praise that feeds pride is the greatest harm one person can do another; a flattering mouth works ruin.
- The boast behind it. Pride in speech and self-will in life go together. They end in "who is lord over us?" and in oppressing the godly.
- God arises. He cuts off the proud and deceitful lips, and it is the oppression of the poor that moves Him to act.
- Purchased lips. The believer was bought with a price. His lips belong to Christ, so he has no right to speech that displeases Him.
Who have said, With our tongue will we prevail, our lips are our own who [is] lord over us?
Here is a boast that few people would ever say out loud. It is the creed of the proud, and it lies under a great deal of ordinary talk: a refusal to answer to anyone.
The three phrases of the boast fit together as one attitude. Older translations read the middle phrase as "our lips are our own," and the writers below quote it that way. Edward Dennett, writing about people who reject all authority, hears the same voice:
This is self-will in man fully grown. He asserts himself and his rights, and at the same time refuses to acknowledge any authority above him. The passage does not ask which rule or "lordship" is meant. What it condemns is the spirit of these dreamers — a spirit that will not submit to anything. It is the spirit of rebellion, the growing spirit of the world today... It gives full licence to the tongue of those who have no reverence for God or man, and who disown all allegiance. They are the ones who say, in the words of the Psalmist, "With our tongue will we prevail; our lips are our own: who is Lord over us?"
A. Pridham sets the boast against the confession of Christian faith, and shows what it shuts out:
Verse 4 stands in striking contrast to the saving confession of Christian faith. When rebellious nature puts into words the folly of its secret thought, it speaks like this: "Our lips are our own; who is lord over us?" In doing so it proudly shuts the gates of righteousness against itself... This plain claim to be independent of the Creator, who formed man as the work of His own hands, seals the destruction of the lawless one and his associates in the day of wrath.
Boasting of this kind sounds strong. F. W. Grant weighs it and finds almost nothing there:
Lips and heart here have broken loose from the restraint of divine authority: "who is lord over us?" is the cry. What more than a mere puff of breath is this, except for its wickedness?
He adds that few would ever put the thought into words. But a man may fairly be said to speak it when his life makes this folly his own.
Leslie Grant traces the boast back to why God gave people tongues, and to the flattery that feeds pride:
People flatter others because they like to be flattered themselves, and so they build up each other's pride. They can twist the truth to please themselves. They forget that the Lord gave people tongues so that they would speak truth. Instead of recognising God, they think their tongues are their own, and use them to serve lies, as though they could make truth out of falsehood. This horrible doctrine is popular today, because people do not want any lord over them.
The psalm does not leave the boast standing. It sets God's words beside man's, and shows which of them will last:
Yet meanwhile, "the words of the Lord are pure words" for those who simply bow to His will... His word is "like silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times." His word needs no purifying, of course, but silver needs seven purifyings just to be a picture of the word of God. Seven speaks of completeness, showing that God's Word is completely pure. What a contrast to the contemptible words of boastful men! Men's words soon perish, but God's words are kept forever.
One writer answers the boast head-on: a Christian's lips belong to the One who bought him.
The wicked say, "Our lips are our own: who is lord over us?" (Ps. 12:4). Every Christian should realize that his lips are not his own, for he is bought with a price (see 1 Cor. 6:20)... His blood bought us for Himself, and it gives Him a clear title to our lips. So we have no moral right to use them for any speech that displeases Him.
- The claim — "Who is master over us?" is self-will fully grown. A person asserts his rights and refuses every authority above him.
- The offence — It claims independence from the Creator, who formed man as the work of His own hands.
- The emptiness — Lips cut loose from God's authority are no more than a puff of breath. Only their wickedness gives them weight.
- The misuse — God gave tongues so that people would speak truth. Calling them our own turns them into tools for lies.
- The reply — God's words are pure, and they are kept forever. Boastful words soon perish, and the blood that bought us gives Him title to our lips.
Because of the oppression of the afflicted, because of the sighing of the needy, now will I arise, saith Jehovah, I will set [him] in safety, at whom they puff.
God breaks His own silence in this psalm. After four verses of human boasting, God Himself speaks. His promise raises three questions: what moves Him to act, whom He acts for, and when.
This verse is a reply. The verses before it show speech with no restraint at all. One commentator traces how proud talk turns into cruelty:
The words of man show his true character, marked by self-exaltation and self-will. Men seek to lift themselves up by flattering others and boasting about themselves — speaking proud things. They show their self-will by refusing all authority. They say, "who is lord over us?" As always, the man who is loudest in claiming freedom of speech and freedom of action for himself is the first to refuse freedom to others. He is the oppressor of the godly. Still, the godly know that the Lord will deal with the wicked and preserve the poor and needy.
God gives two reasons for acting: oppression and sighing. One writer names what moves Him, and what faith does with His promise:
Here the word of the Lord comes into swift opposition to all this. Yet it is love and pity that move Him to act — the oppression of the poor, the sighing of the needy. His promise pledges that He will step in. So faith celebrates, before that happens, the "pure" words of the Lord. They carry no trace of insincerity or untruth — words like silver, the money in everyday use, fully refined.
God answers a cry, not a protest. The people He speaks about never fought back:
Now God's answer to the cry of His chosen ones is heard. They were needy and oppressed. Pride had set its heel on them. Their suffering came from man, not from God. Their comfort comes from Him who comforts those who are cast down. They did not resist the hand of the Oppressor. They entrusted themselves to God, who judges justly. This has always been the lot of godliness in a world of sin. Contempt or oppression, or both, are the portion given to all who will live in a godly way in Christ Jesus (2 Tim. 3:12; James 5:7-8, 10, 11).
The danger in this psalm is words. God's rescue answers that danger, though it may not come quickly:
In the end, though the wait may seem long, the oppression of the poor and the sighing of the needy stir the Lord to answer: "I will now arise," says the LORD (v. 5). He will set in safety those who have felt in constant danger from the threatening words of the wicked. God's judgment by the word of His mouth will be sweeping and withering as the Great Tribulation comes to its close.
Commentators differ on who the psalm describes. One reads it of a coming time of great trouble on the earth. Another applies it to Christians who find themselves alone and pressed down, with one caution: the rescue promised here is not the Christian's own hope.
Clearly the psalm was written under the pressure of extreme wrong and violence, and the feeling of being alone. Human power, and those who trust in it, are all against the soul. It is rare to be in such a position rightly — that is, to have real cause to suffer as this psalm describes. But it may come. Individual Christians may find themselves alone and pressed down. Verse 5 brings in the Lord's judgments, which will put an end to it. He still often does this in the way He governs the world. But it is not the direct and proper hope of the Christian. To do good, suffer for it, and take it patiently is acceptable to God.
The sigh God hears will not last forever. One writer points to the day it disappears from the earth:
In the day of God's glory on the earth, this constant burden on the spiritual heart will surely be gone. The sigh or groan of the needy and of the prisoner (Ps. 12:5; 79:2) will be known no more. Then this prophecy will be fulfilled: "Behold your God … will come and save you. Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped … and the ransomed of the LORD shall return and come to Zion with singing … and sorrow and sighing shall flee away" (Isa. 35:4-10).
- Cause. The man who shouts loudest for his own freedom is the first to deny it to others. He becomes the oppressor of the godly, and God answers his boasting.
- Motive. Love and pity move God to act. He names two reasons: the oppression of the poor and the sighing of the needy.
- Posture. Those He rescues never resisted the oppressor. They entrusted themselves to God, who judges justly.
- Promise. He sets in safety the very people who felt in constant danger from threatening words, even if the wait seems long.
- End. Such judgment belongs to God's government of the world, not to the Christian's own hope. The sighing ends in the day when sorrow and sighing flee away.
The words of Jehovah are pure words, silver tried in the furnace of earth, purified seven times.
The psalm opens with a cry for help. Honest speech has failed among people: flattering lips, a double heart, tongues that claim no master. Verse 6 answers the question this raises — where can anyone find words worth trusting?
One writer sets these words against the talk described earlier in the psalm, and links them to the confidence they give:
Men's words are empty, flattering and boastful. The godly have something else: the pure words of the Lord, with no dross mixed in. Relying on these pure words, the righteous are sure God will keep and preserve them from this generation — those marked by the lawless spirit of the age — even though the wicked walk on every side.
Silver was the money people handled every day. One writer takes up that picture and names what these words are free of:
Faith celebrates the "pure" words of the Lord before the promised help comes. They carry no alloy of insincerity or untruth — words like silver, the money people trade with, fully purified.
Purity is not the same claim as truthfulness, and one writer marks the difference:
The word 'pure' used here comes from the refining process. Refining gets rid of a metal's impurities. Once fully refined, it is pure. We have already noted that God's word is true, but this is an extra quality. There are many things that may be true, but not pure. But God is pure, so His word is pure in its very nature.
The comparison runs one way only. Silver needs the furnace; the word it pictures does not:
Of course, His word needs no purifying. Silver needs purifying seven times just to serve as a symbol of the word of God. Seven speaks of completeness, indicating that God's Word is completely pure. What a contrast to the contemptible words of boastful men!
One writer links the verse to why God rises up, and to what a well-tried word guarantees:
Jehovah arises for this very reason: the wicked oppress the poor. They had relied on God's word. It promised the help they looked for, help that had to come as the witness of Jehovah's character. That word is sure and well-tried. It will certainly bear the fruit it promised. There is nothing deceitful in it. Jehovah will keep His poor from the generation of the wicked.
Pure words do more than stay pure. They work on the person who obeys them:
The words themselves are pure like silver... and obeying the words of the Lord purifies the soul. As we read: "having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth" (1 Peter 1:22). For real, ongoing purity of heart and life, we must keep one great fact before our souls: we belong to God. The silver trumpet of His Word announces His redemptive rights over us. The way of blessing is to answer with glad submission to His will.
Verse 6 runs straight into the promise of verse 7. One writer reads them together as the story of how the Bible reached us:
God does preserve His word for His people. In the dark ages God in His providence used the monks to hand it down to us by copying it out. "The words of the Lord are pure words… you will preserve them from this generation for ever" — given to us, preserved for us.
(The writer quotes verse 7 from an older translation, which reads "you will preserve them"; the ESV reads "you will guard us from this generation forever.")
Men's words and God's words do not last the same. One writer sets them side by side:
Men's words quickly perish. God keeps His own words forever — He preserves them from all the attacks of the enemy, and from "this generation" of evildoers, so that the truth of His words will last for eternity.
- Contrast. The psalm opens with flattering lips and a double heart. God's words carry no dross; human words carry little else.
- Refined. "Pure" is a metalworker's word. It means every impurity burned off. These words are not just true; they carry no alloy of insincerity or untruth.
- Sevenfold. Silver needs seven purifications just to picture God's word. Seven means complete. The word it pictures never needed the furnace.
- Proved. His word is well-tried, so it will bear the fruit it promised. The help pledged to the oppressed is certain.
- Purifying. What is pure works purity. Obeying these words cleanses the soul, and the God who spoke them preserves them for every generation.
Thou, Jehovah, wilt keep them, thou wilt preserve them from this generation for ever.
The psalm opens with a cry: the godly are gone and the faithful have vanished. Verse 7 answers that cry, and two questions decide how it reads — who are the "them" God keeps, and what is "this generation" they are kept from?
The keeping does not stand alone. It rests on the pure words of God in the verse just before. The poor had staked everything on what He said.
These people had relied on God's word. It promised the help they looked for, the help that had to come as the witness of what Jehovah is like. That word is sure and well-tried. It will bear its promised fruit without fail. There is nothing deceitful in it. Jehovah will keep His poor from the generation of the wicked.
Most read "them" as the godly themselves — the people who trust what God has said. (Older translations read "preserve them" here, where the ESV has "guard us.")
Set against the empty, flattering and boastful words of men, the godly have the pure words of the Lord, with no dross mixed in. Resting on these pure words, the righteous can be sure of this: God will keep and preserve them from this generation, the people marked by the lawless spirit of the age. That holds even though the wicked walk on every side, in a day when godliness counts for little.
Commentators differ here. Another reading takes "them" as the words themselves:
Men's words quickly perish. God's words are kept forever. They are preserved from every attack of the enemy, and from "this generation" of evildoers, so that the truth of God's words will last for eternity.
Many take the phrase to mean the people alive at one moment. One writer uses this verse to argue that it describes a character instead.
Here the meaning is moral, not a matter of dates; take Psalm 12:7 as the example. The words "for ever" prove that its force lasts. So the passage tells us that Jehovah will preserve the godly from their lawless oppressors, "from this generation forever." That is a clear and final answer to those who would limit the phrase to the short span of one man's life. So in Deuteronomy 32:5, 20 the word is used the same way — not for a period of time, but to express the moral character of Israel.
A lexicon definition says the same in one line:
Parkhurst, in his Lexicon, gives as a meaning of genea — the Greek word for "generation" — "Men of like quality and disposition, though of neither one place nor age." Scripture bears this out fully: "You will keep them, O Jehovah, You will preserve them from this generation forever" (Ps. 12:7). In this text "generation" plainly does not mean only the people alive on earth at one time.
The promise is not that the danger disappears. The next verse says the wicked still walk about on every side.
Jehovah keeps His people. Yes, He preserves them forever from the generation of the false-hearted. Yet the wicked walk around. It must be so when men give "vileness" a place of honour — the very thing that should be shaken out and thrown away.
The same writer points to what moves God to act against the boasters:
Here Jehovah's word comes swiftly against all of this. Yet what moves Him to act is love and pity — the oppression of the poor, the sighing of the needy. His promise commits Him to step in. And before He does, faith already celebrates the "pure" words of the Lord, with no alloy of insincerity or untruth in them — words like silver, the money people trade with, completely refined.
- Cry. The psalm opens with the godly gone and the faithful failing. What moves God to answer is the oppression of the poor and the sighing of the needy.
- Word. The keeping rests on God's own word: sure, well-tried, with nothing deceitful in it. It will bear its promised fruit without fail.
- Kept. Commentators differ on "them." Most read it as the godly who trust those pure words; others read it as the words themselves, kept forever from every attack.
- Generation. "This generation" is a kind of people, not a span of years: men of like quality and disposition, of no one place or age. The words "for ever" rule out a mere lifetime.
- Forever. The keeping runs alongside the danger, not instead of it. The wicked still walk about where men honour what should be thrown away.
The wicked walk about on every side, when vileness is exalted among the children of men.
The psalm does not end with the rescue it asks for. It ends with a picture of the world the godly still have to live in. So what does it mean for men to exalt "vileness" — and how does God keep anyone safe while they do?
The word behind "vileness" means something worthless — rubbish. One writer explains it by what men should have done with it instead:
The wicked walk around; and so it must be when "vileness" — what should be shaken out and thrown away — is held in a place of honour among men.
The second half of the verse explains the first. The wicked roam because men now honour what they should throw out. That upside-down state has a time limit:
But for a very short time wicked doers "prowl on every side" because vile principles and practices are exalted among the sons of men. They dare to call evil good and good evil.
The earlier verses trace the road. Men use their tongues to flatter each other and to throw off every authority. The man who demands freedom for himself is the quickest to deny it to others:
The words of man betray their true character as marked by self-exaltation and self-will. They seek their own exaltation by flattering others, and boasting of themselves — speaking proud things. They express their self-will by refusing all authority: they say "who is lord over us?" As always, the man who shouts loudest for his own liberty of speech and action is the first to refuse liberty to others. He is the oppressor of the godly.
Behind the noise there is little substance. One writer weighs that boast and finds it is nearly nothing:
Lips and heart here have broken loose from the restraint of divine authority: "who is lord over us?" is the cry. Apart from its wickedness, what is this but a mere puff of breath?
Verse 8 is not the psalm's answer; verses 6–7 are. Against the flattering, boastful words of men stand words with no dross in them. The promise of keeping rests on those words:
In contrast to the vain, flattering and boastful words of men, the godly have the pure words of the Lord in which there is no mixture of dross. Leaning on these pure words, the righteous are sure that God will keep and preserve them from this generation — those marked by the lawless spirit of the age. This holds even though the wicked walk on every side, in a day when godliness counts for nothing and "vileness is exalted."
One writer presses the picture of silver further. Silver is not the standard God's word must reach. Silver itself must be refined before it can even picture that word:
His word is "like silver tried in a furnace of earth, purified seven times." Of course, His word needs no purifying. But silver needs seven refinings before it can serve as even a symbol of the word of God. Seven speaks of completeness, showing that God's Word is completely pure.
The godly do not have to pretend the evil is not there. They can lay it before the Lord. And the psalm names what brings God to His feet: the crushing of the poor:
This is the general basis of the godly man's confidence and way of life. Yet they are not blind to the evil, and they can bring it to the Lord. Jehovah will cut off the proud and deceitful lips… But it is just for his oppression of the poor that Jehovah arises… Jehovah will keep His poor from the generation of the wicked. But the wicked have full scope when the worthless are exalted on high.
One writer reads the psalm as a picture of days still ahead. He renders the last line as vile men lifted high, and sets God's keeping beside their roaming:
Then faith sees the coming intervention. The Lord will speak. "Now I will arise, says Jehovah, I will set him in safety, the one they sneer at." Jehovah will keep His people in these coming dark days, "when the wicked walk on all sides and the vilest men are exalted."
- Exalted — "Vileness" is what men should have shaken out and thrown away. The trouble starts when they give it a place of honour instead.
- Unleashed — Once men honour evil, the wicked walk free on every side; they dare to call evil good and good evil.
- Unbridled — The root is a tongue that throws off all authority: "who is lord over us?" It shouts for its own liberty and denies liberty to others.
- Unmixed — Against words full of flattery stand God's words, pure as silver refined seven times. The godly rest on them, and God keeps them.
- Unfailing — The oppression of the poor makes Jehovah arise. The wicked have full scope only while the worthless are lifted high — and that lasts a very short time.
(To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David.) How long, Jehovah, wilt thou forget me for ever? how long wilt thou hide thy face from me?
Psalm 13 opens with a question that has no soft edges: the psalmist tells God to His face that he feels forgotten, and asks how long it will last. Commentators read that cry as real distress and as faith at the same time.
The question is not a complaint thrown into empty air. It assumes God is listening and that He sets limits.
(v. 1) Though tried by evil without and fears within, the grace of God sustains the soul. So comes the cry, "How long?" This is the language of faith that clings to God. Faith knows He will put a limit to the trials of His people and to the evil of the wicked. Faith can ask, "How long will you forget?" in circumstances that seem to say, "For ever."
To say that God has forgotten is to say something impossible about Him.
The psalmist cries a strange cry, born of closeness and of distance at the same time — that Jehovah, the Unchanging, has forgotten! Then will His forgetfulness itself never change? Will it be permanent? Who can read such a riddle as this? Clouds have hidden the sun, but who would then confuse the sun with the cloud? The cloud passes; the sun remains.
Psalms 11 to 15 belong together, and this one marks the bottom.
In this group of psalms (11-15) the distress of the godly soul deepens. In Psalm 11 he sees the "foundations" going. In Psalm 12 the godly man is gone and the faithful disappear from among the children of men. In this Psalm (13) the soul reaches the deepest point of distress, because the circumstances would make it appear that God Himself has forgotten the soul.
What makes it the lowest point is where the trouble seems to come from — not from enemies only, but from God.
Psalm 13 is deeper distress of soul because of a sense that it comes from God. The faith of God's people cannot go on for ever; they cry, "How long?" "Are You treating us as if we were given up? If it goes on like this, I shall faint under it!"
Nothing in the psalm points to sin as the cause. That is part of what makes it so hard. So the delay has another explanation.
We are not told what caused David to write this psalm that found him so depressed; it may have been while he was an exile hunted by Saul. His faith was in the Lord, yet it wavered as he felt the Lord had forgotten him. The time seemed so long that he feared it might stretch on for ever (v. 1). Such experiences are truly a trial of faith, especially since there is no sign of failure or sin on David's part.
Though the time seems endless, it is God's wisdom that delays the answer. He is patient toward the ungodly. He also knows that His servants need a long exercise of heart, so that faith may be both tested and strengthened.
Should a believer today make these words his own? One writer says the Christian's standing rules out this complaint.
No Christian who knew the grace of God in truth could ever rightly speak the complaint with which this Psalm begins. For the standing of a Christian is a conscious acceptance in the Beloved. He is no longer a stranger, but an heir of God... He is kept in Christ before the Father's face for ever.
For Israel under the old covenant, a hidden face was part of the agreed terms.
That Jehovah should hide His face from His people under the old covenant was strictly in keeping with the terms of the covenant itself. Their disobedience would provoke His anger. The effect would be a course of discipline. Its sharpest edge was that He withdrew His visible favour from them. Without it they were defenceless prey before their enemies.
The words are also read as belonging to a future time of trouble for God's people in Israel.
They are indeed in deep distress... Already the cry is going up from many a heart, "How long will you forget me, O Jehovah? for ever? how long will you hide your face from me?" (Ps. 13:1)... The time of their deliverance has not yet come, but their groans and cries are heard.
The psalm moves from this question to singing.
God snaps the ties of nature in everything that sin has spoiled. He ends all dependence on the creature — and so on self — so that all our trust may fasten on Himself. Then, when we make Him everything, we find Him everything... Here the soul begins with a groan and ends with a song. We have passed through a tunnel of earth into the unveiled glory of heaven.
- Groan. The psalm begins at the lowest point of a series. The trouble seems to come from God Himself, not just from enemies.
- Riddle. To say the Unchanging has forgotten is to confuse the cloud with the sun; the cloud passes, the sun stays.
- Faith. "How long?" is not unbelief but faith's own word, asking a limit from God while the circumstances shout "for ever."
- Delay. No sin explains the silence here. God's wisdom stretches the waiting, so that faith is tested and strengthened.
- Song. When every other support snaps, trust fastens on God alone. The psalm that opened with a groan closes with singing.
How long shall I take counsel in my soul, with sorrow in my heart daily? how long shall mine enemy be exalted over me?
The psalmist has already asked "How long?" twice about God's silence; now he turns the same question on himself and on his enemy. Three pressures meet in one line: a mind arguing with itself, a heart in sorrow all day, and a foe lifted high. The question is whether any of them has a limit.
The question is not asked once. One writer counts the cries and traces how the trial grows:
Four times "How long?" The trial of faith becomes more severe. Sorrow is in the heart and an enemy is outside. Has Jehovah then forgotten? The hearts begin to despair; an answer is demanded, it must come "lest I sleep the sleep of death."
This psalm is heavier than the ones before it. The difference is not the size of the trouble but where the sufferer feels it comes from:
Psalm 13 is a deeper distress of soul because of a sense of its being from God. The faith of God's people cannot go on for ever; they cry, "How long?" "Are You treating us as if we were given up? If it goes on like this, I shall faint under it!"
To take counsel in my soul is to hold a private conference with myself, apart from God. That inward turn produces the other two things this verse names:
Under the pressure of the circumstances the soul turns in upon itself — taking counsel in its own soul apart from God. The weary reasonings of the mind bring no relief. The result of self-occupation, as always, is to fill the heart with sorrow, and to give the enemy an occasion to triumph over the soul.
The delay is not neglect. One writer gives two reasons why God lets the clock run:
Though the time seems endless, it is God's wisdom that delays the answer. He waits not only because He is patient toward the ungodly, but because He knows how necessary it is for His servants to be exercised in heart for a long time, so that faith may be both tested and strengthened.
The enemy is "exalted over me" — that is, measured against the psalmist's own strength. Later in the psalm the measure changes:
With his eyes enlightened, the soul sees clearly the aims of the enemy, and that the resource of the godly is found in the mercy and salvation of the Lord. Occupied with himself, he can only see his own weakness and the power of the enemy in relation to himself. Having turned to the Lord, he sees the enemy in relation to the Lord. The heart was filled with sorrow when it was occupied with its own reasonings in verse 2. Now the heart rejoices in view of the mercy and salvation of the Lord.
One writer applies the psalm to the believer now, and names the promise that answers the fear:
Such experiences are indeed a trial of faith, especially since there is no sign of failure or sin on David's part. Yet the believer today may be lifted high above his circumstances. He needs only to take to heart the truth of the word of the Lord Jesus: "I will never leave you nor forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5). If it seems He has left us, this word is enough to cancel such a fear.
- Counsel — Apart from God, the soul holds a private council with itself. The reasoning goes round and round and brings no relief.
- Sorrow — Self-occupation ends the same way every time. The heart fills with grief, and the grief returns each day.
- Enemy — Measured against my own strength, the foe towers over me. Measured against the Lord, he is small.
- Delay — God's silence is planned, not careless. He is patient toward the ungodly, and He keeps His servants waiting so that faith is tested and strengthened.
- Turn — Looking inward brings sorrow. Looking to the Lord lightens the eyes, and the heart that was full of sorrow rejoices.
Consider, answer me, O Jehovah my God! lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep the [sleep of] death;
Psalm 13 opens with two verses of unanswered "How long?" Here the psalmist stops questioning God and starts asking Him for something. What he asks for is small: not rescue, not the enemy's defeat, but light for his eyes.
In the verse before, the trouble is not the enemy. It is the conversation the soul keeps having with itself:
When circumstances press hard, the soul turns in on itself. It takes counsel with itself, apart from God. The weary reasonings of the mind bring no relief. Self-occupation always ends the same way. It fills the heart with sorrow, and it gives the enemy an occasion to triumph over the soul.
Verse 3 reverses the direction, and the eyes are the first thing to change:
Relief comes through prayer. Prayer turns the soul from self to the Lord, and at once the eyes are lightened — the spiritual sight is cleared. Turning in upon self darkens the heart with sorrow; looking out to the Lord lightens the eyes.
The request is not for the trial to end but for sight inside it — for understanding of why it is there.
His distress has taken up verses 2 and 3. Yet he rises above it far enough to pray with more confidence to the Lord his God: "Consider and answer me, O LORD my God." So he does not give way to his despair. He looks up in confidence that God will enlighten his eyes — that is, give him discernment of the reason for his trial. May we too have confidence that God will give us discernment about whatever may test us.
One writer sees the collapse of every other support as the sign that faith is about to revive. He pictures it with a memorable image.
At His feet the soul grows bolder. The despair of all else shows that faith is about to revive. Despair of all else makes God the one grand resource. We grasp an unbreakable holdfast with one hand. With the other we grasp some poor weed or thin thread that could not hold us up for a moment. Then, when the thread snaps, we cry, "Oh, the holdfast has given way!" — when all we needed to do was put both hands on it. This is the lesson. At once the soul finds the right argument, not with itself but with God. "Light up my eyes," it says. "Lord, You know. You are the light of them: yes, the light of life itself. If You are not with me, it is only death."
The plea rests on need alone — and it is made to infinite Love.
What an argument to infinite Love, if we can truly say it: "Lord, You are my one necessity. You are the light of these poor eyes, the light in which alone we see light. You are the Life without whom there is only, only death!" The Holy Spirit Himself teaches this prayer — He who "intercedes for the saints according to the will of God." We put both arms round Him when we say it. It is a prayer open to us all, a child's prayer, an infant's prayer. The tender pity of God will never refuse it.
The fear named here is not only of dying but of what the enemy would claim if he did.
Here the psalmist asks God to step in and keep him from sleeping the sleep of death. Then his enemy cannot claim to have prevailed against him. Of course, the Lord would not allow the enemy to prevail, for it is God Himself who will always prevail. If anything moved David off the path of faith, the enemy would rejoice. But God keeps His child from being moved.
One writer reads the verse forward. He ties this cry for sight to two blind men whose sight Jesus restored, and to a faithful group in Israel who will make the same cry in a day still to come:
The two blind men picture a faithful group in Israel, both in that day and in the day still to come. They will cry to the Lord for sight and lay hold of the promises given in the Son of David (Ps. 13:3). The remnant of that day had their sight restored and were led out to follow Jesus. In the same way, God will meet the blind but crying one of the coming time with mercy and healing, and will lead him to follow Jesus into perfect blessing.
- Darkness — talking your trouble over with yourself fills the heart with sorrow and gives the enemy an opening.
- Turn — the verse is the pivot of the psalm: the soul stops arguing with itself and starts arguing with God.
- Light — the plea is for cleared sight: discernment of why the trial is there.
- Grip — when every fragile support snaps, put both hands on the one holdfast that never gave way.
- Life — "You are my one necessity" is a prayer small enough for a child and, commentators say, never refused.
Lest mine enemy say, I have prevailed against him! [lest] mine adversaries be joyful when I am moved.
The psalm has sunk to its lowest point. The prayer here is not just for rescue; it asks that God leave the enemy no boast.
This verse sits in a psalm where human hostility has gone as far as it can go. One writer follows the movement: the sense of being forgotten, then a cry with two requests in it.
In Psalm 13 the righteous man sinks to the lowest point of distress that evil from men can cause. It is as if God had completely and finally forgotten him. His enemy was lifted up over him, and he was turning things over in his own heart. But then he cries out. He looks to Jehovah to hear him, so that he will not perish on the one side, and so that his enemy on the other side will not get to say he had prevailed.
The enemy presses hard all through this psalm. A commentator points to what God is doing inside that pressure.
The enemy's pressure runs all through these experiences. Yet God is also working blessing through it, as He does in all things: "For those who love God all things work together for good." Here the psalmist pleads that the enemy may not triumph, and that his adversaries may not get to gloat when he is moved.
The prayer just before this verse was for enlightened eyes. What follows is what such eyes take in.
With eyes enlightened, the soul sees the enemy's aims clearly. It also sees that the resource of the godly is the mercy and salvation of the Lord. While he is occupied with himself, he can only see his own weakness and the enemy's power against him. Once he has turned to the Lord, he sees the enemy in relation to the Lord.
The same writer traces where the darkness starts.
Relief comes through prayer, which turns the soul from self to the Lord. The immediate result is that the eyes are lightened — the spiritual sight is cleared. Turning in on self darkens the heart with sorrow; looking out to the Lord lightens the eyes.
The fear here is real, but the outcome is not in doubt. Where the ESV says "shaken," older translations read "moved," and that is the word this writer uses.
Here the psalmist asks God to step in and keep him from sleeping the sleep of death, so that his enemy cannot claim he has prevailed against him. Of course, the Lord would not allow the enemy to prevail, for it is God Himself who will always prevail. If David were moved in any way off the path of faith, the enemy would rejoice. But it is God who keeps His child from being moved.
Commentators differ on how far a Christian should make these words his own. One argues that the opening complaint does not fit a believer's settled position at all.
No Christian who truly knew the grace of God could ever rightly speak the complaint this Psalm begins with. For a Christian stands in a conscious acceptance in the Beloved... They have slept through their sleep of death in Him who died for them and rose again.
Another writer still finds a lesson here, in the very situation this verse describes.
Yet the Christian may be tested when the power of evil seems to win for a moment. In that case he can look to the Lord for deliverance, and not be left as if God did not care for him... The soul is not only surrounded by heartless enemies with no conscience, but also seems forgotten by God — and still it trusts in His mercy.
The psalm does not stay where this verse leaves it. The last verse answers the cry.
Then the last verse celebrates the actual deliverance which surely follows. And now the joy is as lively as the distress was deep. The sigh becomes a song.
- Lowest — The deepest point of the psalm: the enemy lifted up, God seemingly gone, the sufferer turning things over in his own heart.
- Looking — Turning inward darkens the heart. Turning to the Lord lightens the eyes, and then the soul sees the enemy next to the Lord, not next to itself.
- Boast — The plea is that the enemy never gets to say he won. He never will. God always prevails, and God keeps His own from being moved.
- Belonging — Commentators differ here. One holds that a Christian, accepted in the Beloved, could not rightly voice the complaint that opens the psalm. Another says a believer tested by evil's short-lived triumph can still trust God's mercy like this.
- Song — The pressure of the enemy is the very thing God works blessing through, until the sigh becomes a song.
As for me, I have confided in thy loving-kindness; my heart shall be joyful in thy salvation.
Psalm 13 opens with a man asking "How long?" again and again, sure that God has forgotten him. Nothing in his situation has changed, yet here he says he has trusted — so what moved him, and what is he resting on?
The verse opens with "But" because something has shifted. Earlier he was busy with his own reasoning. One writer shows what turning to the Lord changed:
When his eyes are opened, the soul sees the enemy's aims clearly. He also sees that the help of the godly is the mercy and salvation of the Lord. While he is taken up with himself, he can only see his own weakness and how strong the enemy looks next to him. Now that he has turned to the Lord, he sees the enemy next to the Lord. His heart was full of sorrow while it argued things out with itself. Now his heart rejoices as it looks at the mercy and salvation of the Lord.
The enemy has not gone. The measuring stick has changed.
Notice what he trusted in. Not his innocence, not the rightness of his case, but God's steadfast love. The same writer shows what that trust brings:
Now that he has turned to the Lord, the faith of the soul takes hold of the loving-kindness of the Lord and trusts it. It does not trust in his own merit, or in how right his cause is. This brings relief. The soul leaves behind the distress that came from dwelling on its circumstances, and rejoices instead as it looks at the Lord's salvation. The joy of his heart finds an outlet in the praise of his lips.
The verse holds a short piece of reasoning. Older translations read "mercy" where the ESV reads "steadfast love." One writer lays out that logic, then pushes it a step further:
The third pair of verses gives the resurrection out of the depths. First, faith finds the solid ground under its feet. Its argument is not elaborate. It is very simple: "I have trusted in His mercy, so deliverance will come!" Perhaps it says a little more than that: "I have trusted in His mercy, so I will be glad at once, for deliverance is sure!" It is good to honor Him this way before deliverance comes, so that it does not catch us by surprise. How sad, even while He is rescuing you, never to have given Him credit for it beforehand!
The trusting is past tense; the rejoicing is future. One writer shows what that gap means for anyone praying today:
The soul is surrounded by enemies who have no heart and no conscience, and it even seems that God has forgotten it. Still it trusts in His mercy. It counts on God Himself, on His goodness and His faithful mercy, and so it rejoices in the deliverance His power will bring, before that deliverance comes. So when we pray, we thank God before we get the answer. Faith makes us know in our hearts that God has heard us and answered us, so we bless Him before the answer shows up in plain sight. That is exactly what proves our faith is real. This confidence gives wonderful peace in the middle of trials. We may not know how God will rescue us, but we are sure He will — and we are right to be sure.
The psalm ends far from where it began, and one writer points to the prayer as the reason:
The psalmist's prayer gets its answer in these closing verses. It is like a resurrection from among the dead. His trust in God's mercy lifts up his heart to rejoice in God's salvation. Honest prayer will always bring results like this, and rejoicing goes with faith.
One writer shows what the Christian may take from these words now:
Here the prayer of faith turns into a celebration of victory before the Lord's deliverance has come. Faith that trusts the Lord's mercy is sure to rejoice in His salvation. The Christian understands this and already has a first taste of this joy. He can sing the Lord's song while he is still in a foreign land, because God has blessed him with such rich grace in Christ Jesus.
- Turn — The heart was full of sorrow while it argued with itself. It rejoices once it looks to the Lord and sees the enemy next to Him.
- Trust — Faith rests on His loving-kindness, not on personal merit and not on how right his cause is.
- Therefore — The argument is short: I have trusted in His mercy, so deliverance is sure — and I will be glad now.
- Thanks — We bless God before the answer shows up. That is the proof of faith. We may not know how He will rescue us, but we are sure He will.
- Tune — Honest prayer ends in rejoicing; the believer can sing the Lord's song while still in a foreign land.
I will sing unto Jehovah, for he hath dealt bountifully with me.
A psalm that opened with four cries of "How long?" closes with music. The last line gives the reason for the song. Nothing in the circumstances has changed. What has changed is the singer's verdict on God's dealings. So how does a man who felt forgotten reach that verdict?
The gap between the psalm's first lines and its last is the point of the psalm. One writer shows where the turn happens.
Then the joy expresses itself in singing to the Lord (v. 6), because of His bountiful dealings. What a contrast these two verses are to the first two! The reason is clear: in verses 3 and 4 we find him crying to God in simple, trusting prayer.
The singer names a reason for his song, and it is something God has done, not something he has earned. That distinction shapes everything, including where his attention has moved.
Having turned to the Lord, the soul's faith sees and trusts the loving-kindness of the Lord. It does not trust in personal merit, nor in the rightness of his own case. This brings relief. The soul leaves the distress that came from dwelling on the circumstances, and rejoices at the Lord's salvation. The joy of his heart comes out in the praise of his lips. The soul bursts into a song to the Lord, because the Lord has dealt bountifully with him. While his mind was full of the enemy's works, he sank into the deepest distress. Now his mind is full of the Lord's bountiful dealings, and he bursts into song.
The psalm never reports that the enemy has fallen. The praise comes first; the rescue is still on the way.
The soul is surrounded by heartless enemies with no conscience. It even seems that God has forgotten it. Still it trusts in His mercy. It counts on God Himself, on His goodness and His faithful mercy, and so it rejoices in deliverance by His power before that deliverance comes. So when we pray, we thank God before we receive the answer. We know in our hearts by faith that God has heard us and answered us, so we bless Him before His answer shows itself; and this is the very proof of faith. Such confidence gives wonderful peace in the middle of trials. We may not know how God will deliver us, but we are sure He will, and we are right to be sure.
One writer hands these closing verses to any Christian, whatever his surroundings.
The prayer of faith here turns to the celebration of triumph in the Lord's deliverance before it arrives. The faith which trusts Jehovah's mercy will surely rejoice in His salvation. The Christian understands this, and already has a foretaste of this joy. He can sing the Lord's song while he is still in a strange land. He can do this because God has blessed him in Christ Jesus with such an abundance of grace. So he may find in these verses a happy expression of his heart's best joys.
One writer notes how little light this singer has. His view of God is dim, yet his testimony at the close is firm.
Throughout the first two books of the Psalms there are moving hints of a faith reaching out for a blessing that it only faintly grasps… The heart is honest, and it is separated from the mass of the godless nation. Yet there is still a veil over the eyes… In the thirteenth psalm, under the persecutions of the "man of sin," the soul makes its complaint to a God it only dimly knows. Real faith is at work, and at the close the testimony is that the Lord has "dealt bountifully" with the needy one.
Taken as a whole, the psalm shows what long waiting does to a believer who keeps trusting.
If hope that is put off makes the righteous sick, confidence here grows up into joy and gladness… It is the patience of the saints, as they wait for the Kingdom in power and praise.
- Cry. The song does not come from nowhere. The simple, trusting prayer of the middle verses stands between "How long?" and "I will sing."
- Mercy. What faith lays hold of is God's loving-kindness — not the singer's merit, and not the rightness of his case.
- Shift. Fill your mind with the enemy's work and you sink. Fill it with the Lord's bountiful dealings and you sing.
- Timing. Blessing God before you can see the answer is the proof of faith. It brings peace even when you cannot see how rescue will come.
- Reach. The light is dim, but the faith is real. The same song belongs to anyone who can sing in a strange land while the waiting goes on.
(To the chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David.) The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. They have corrupted themselves, they have done abominable works there is none that doeth good.
Psalm 14 is not a survey of what the world believes. It is God's verdict on it. And that verdict starts inside a person, long before it shows in what he does. The verse ties three things together: a private thought about God, a corrupt life, and a search that finds no exception.
The denial sits in the heart, not on the lips. One writer shows how much a person can say without speaking a word:
Oh the heart! What a source of mischief and misery it is! Scripture says it well: "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." And so we read that "The fool has said in his heart, 'No God!'" (Ps. 14:1). Such a saying may never have reached the lips. It may never have been put into words out loud. But in the unspoken language of the heart, the words come out: "No God!"
The denial has a motive. Conscience already expects judgment, so the mind looks for any excuse to remove the One who judges:
Man gained the knowledge of good and evil in the fall. It has shaped him so that judgment is the only action of God's power he understands. Of course he resists that judgment, and blasphemes God. The reason is his conscience: it tells him he must be the object of His righteous vengeance. So, to calm his conscience, he tries to persuade himself that he is not wicked. He hides himself from God, like Adam. And in his folly he grabs at the smallest excuse for denying His existence. "The fool says in his heart, 'There is no God.'" (Psalms 14; 53.)
The same writer traces the wish behind the words — no authority, no restraint, no reckoning — and calls it something present in everyone: "Sin has produced that wish; and how easy to move from the idea to the belief, from the wish to the word, 'No God!'"
The problem is not a shortage of evidence:
The universe holds millions of proofs of wonderful design. Bias is as blind to them as a bat is in the light of the noonday sun. Bias is not a matter of the head, but of the heart. "The fool says in his heart, 'There is no God'" (Ps. 14:1).
The verse moves in a single breath from "the fool" to "they." That shift is the point:
The "fool" of the first sentence becomes a multitude in the very next. They "are corrupt, they do abominable deeds; there is none who does good." This is what man away from God comes to by nature. God is the true life of man. The body decays once it is apart from the soul that gives it life, and the soul decays in the same way once it is apart from God. There can be no exception here. No law is surer than this: "there is none who does good."
Commentators differ on how far the verse looks ahead. Some read the fool as a figure of a coming time of open apostasy:
The characteristic man of this terrible time will be "the fool" — the man who has no fear of God. In his heart he says, "No God"; and his corrupt and abominable life shows the thought of his heart.
This verse is not left in the Psalms. It reappears in the New Testament as the charge against everyone:
The first quotation is from Psalm 14. There the words are joined to the statement that "the Lord looks down from heaven on the children of man, to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God." What follows gives the result of God's searching gaze. So the truth here is not a description of how we appear before one another. It is how we appear before God, as fallen children of Adam — as in the flesh. In the quotations from this Psalm God strips us of everything we might boast in as natural men — the very things we naturally use to justify ourselves before Him.
The right response to such a sweeping verdict is not argument but surrender:
In the face of statements as sweeping as these, anyone who pleads righteousness with God has no feeling for the real state of things. It suits us all better to admit that we are truly guilty. Then we can throw ourselves without reserve on God's unlimited grace.
- Heart — the heart says "No God" without a sound. The lips may never say it, but the heart has said it.
- Wish — the denial has a motive. Conscience expects judgment, so a man grabs at any excuse that removes the Judge.
- Bias — this is folly of the heart, not of the mind; design surrounds him and he cannot see it.
- Spread — one fool becomes a multitude. Cut off from God, the soul decays as a body does without the soul: "there is none who does good."
- Refuge — Scripture repeats this verdict to strip away every boast. One move is left: admit the guilt and throw yourself on God's grace.
Jehovah looked down from the heavens upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did understand, that did seek God.
The fool of verse 1 has just said in his heart that there is no God. Heaven's answer is not an immediate blow but a search — God looks across the whole human race to find anyone who wants Him.
This is not God's general awareness of the world. This look has a pattern behind it in Scripture.
Wickedness has reached its height. The world is ripe for judgment, and God looks down upon the children of men as One about to act in judgment. This is not merely the truth that everything is always under God's eye. This is the look that comes before judgment. The Lord came down to see before the judgment at Babel. Again He looked toward Sodom before its destruction (Gen. 18:16); and again we read that the Lord looked upon the host of the Egyptians before their overthrow (Ex. 14:24).
He already knows the answer. Yet He goes and looks anyway, person by person, so that the verdict rests on evidence.
But Jehovah Himself will give His testimony. He knows every heart perfectly beforehand. Even so, He will not pass sentence except from actual experience. He looks down from heaven and considers every soul of man among the children of Adam. He looks for anyone who truly understands — anyone who, stirred by the need and misery of his condition, seeks after Him whom men's sins have shut off from them.
The verse names two things: understanding and seeking. God ran that search over every person alive.
The great and gracious Creator surveyed the whole human race. He could not see one who wanted Him, or one who even understood the purpose for which he was created!
Because the observer is God, the finding is not a survey of how people rank against their neighbours.
So the truth here is not a description of how we appear before one another. It is how we appear before God, as fallen children of Adam — as in the flesh. In the quotations from this Psalm God strips us of everything we might boast in as natural men. He takes away the things we naturally use to try to justify ourselves before God.
The apostle later quotes this verse against those who assumed the law placed them outside its reach.
The law, he says, belongs to you. You boast that it refers to you exclusively. Very well: hear then what it says about the people, about yourselves. It speaks to you, as you admit. There is not one righteous man among you, then, on whom God can look down from heaven. He quotes Psalm 14:2-3; Isaiah 59:7-8, to set out the judgment pronounced on them by the very oracles they boasted in. So every mouth was shut, and all the world guilty before God.
The failed search does not end the story. It settles who has to make the first move.
Man never thought to find a friend in God. He had no natural confidence in his Creator. He broke with God when he became a sinner, and to this day he has no desire for the breach to be healed. He does not wish to have anything to do with God, and he would never have sought God if left to himself. But God had desires toward man, and if man will not seek God, God will seek him. If there is none who seeks after God, there is a God who seeks after man.
So how does anyone ever come to seek Him?
Are there any who understand and seek God? None whatever, until God by grace works in their hearts... They influence one another, but not for good. God's estimate of people generally is that "there is none who does good, not even one." The only remedy must come from God.
Yet the same psalm still names "the generation of the righteous" (v. 5). Where did they come from?
Though the people were outwardly under law, grace had always been active. What pure law could not achieve, grace had achieved. In the middle of a nation of rebellious sinners, grace produced "the generation of the righteous" (v. 5).
- He looked. This look from heaven matches the look that came before Babel, Sodom and the fall of Egypt's army. It comes just before God acts.
- He looked closely. God already knows every heart. Even so, He inspects each person, so His sentence rests on evidence.
- He looked for one. He searched for one person who understood why he was made and who wanted God.
- He found none. The verdict measures how we stand before God, not how we compare with each other. Paul turns it on the most religious hearers, so every mouth is shut.
- So He came seeking. Since no one seeks God, God seeks man. Everyone who does understand and seek is the fruit of that grace — the "generation of the righteous" in this same psalm.
They have all gone aside, they are together become corrupt there is none that doeth good, not even one.
In verse 2 God looks down from heaven, searching for one person who understands and seeks Him. Verse 3 is the report He brings back. Is this verdict poetry or fact? Does it leave anyone out?
This verdict is not a distant opinion. God searches first, then speaks:
They have not sought nor cared: they have turned aside; they have gone after their lusts; there is none who does good, not even one. What the grace of God does is another matter. Apart from this, evil just repeats itself. One generation follows another, only adding its own sins to its fathers'. This is the result, then, and God Himself is the witness. He certifies it after actually inspecting every single person.
Readers often look for exceptions. The words themselves leave no room for one, and God had said the same about people before:
"And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually" (Gen. 6:5). The words "every," "only" and "continually" leave no room for any redeeming feature in man's condition before God. Again, "The LORD looks down from heaven on the children of man, to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God. They have all turned aside; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one" (Ps. 14:2-3). Here again the expressions "all" — "none" — "not even one" — rule out any single redeeming quality in man's condition, as God judges it.
This is not God simply watching, as He always does. In Scripture this kind of look comes before judgment:
Wickedness has reached its peak, so the world is ripe for judgment. God looks down upon the children of men as one about to act in judgment. It is not simply that all is under the eye of God, which is always true, but this is the look that precedes judgment. The Lord came down to see before the judgment at Babel. Again He looked towards Sodom before its destruction (Gen. 18:16); and yet again we read that the Lord looked upon the army of the Egyptians before their overthrow (Ex. 14:24). God sees that the wickedness of man is such that there is no other way to defend His majesty except by judgment.
The psalm's sharpest edge falls on Israel, the nation God had favoured and worked over, and to whom He gave His law:
In Psalm 14 the LORD takes account of the most favoured nation upon the earth... God had taken Israel up and put them in relationship with Himself as His people, and He had spent much labour on them. It is to this people He comes seeking some reward for all His toil. But He has to say, "They have all turned aside; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one." He got no return for His labour from the people He had given the law.
Paul later uses the verse to silence religious pride:
The law, he says, belongs to you. You boast that it refers to you exclusively. Very well: then hear what it says of the people, of yourselves. It speaks to you, as you acknowledge. There is not one righteous man among you on whom God can look down from heaven. He quotes Psalm 14:2-3; Isaiah 59:7-8, to set out the judgment pronounced on them by those oracles they boasted in. So every mouth was shut, and all the world guilty before God.
If the verse were the last word, no one could be saved. But grace was already at work in the same psalm:
Though the people were outwardly under law, grace had always been active. What pure law could not do, grace had done. In the middle of a nation of rebellious sinners there was found, through grace, "the generation of the righteous" (v. 5).
Man's search failed. God has a search of His own:
Man never thought to find a friend in God... He wishes not to have to do with God, nor would he ever have sought God if left to himself. But God had desires after man, and if man will not seek God, God will seek him. If there is none that seeks after God, there is a God who seeks after man. He sought after Adam and Eve when they had abandoned Him, and when they were doing their best to make it impossible for Him to find them.
- Searched — God did not guess at this verdict. He looked down and inspected every person before He gave it.
- Sentenced — "All," "none," "not even one" — the words close every loophole. Nothing good in man survives that search.
- Solemn — This particular look is the kind that came before Babel, Sodom and the overthrow of Egypt: judgment is near.
- Spread — Paul aims the verse at the nation that owned the law. Every mouth is shut, and the whole world stands guilty.
- Sought — No one seeks God, so God seeks man. He sought Adam and Eve while they hid, and grace still finds "the generation of the righteous."
Have all the workers of iniquity no knowledge, eating up my people [as] they eat bread? They call not upon Jehovah.
God has just looked down on the whole human race and found no one who does good. Verse 4 turns that survey into a direct question, and the evidence God brings against these people is how they treat those He calls "my people."
God has watched this scene in silence. Now He speaks. One writer treats the question as a charge of stupidity, and finds its answer in the two clauses that follow.
God has looked upon this scene of unparalleled wickedness; now He speaks. He asks, "Have all the workers of iniquity no knowledge?" Has man become stupid like the beasts? (compare Isaiah 1:3). The way men treat the people of God answers the question. They ill-treat God's people in utter indifference to God, just as they eat bread without reference to God. Moreover man pursues his way in utter independence of God — they "call not upon the Lord." So three things prove the world ripe for judgment: its own complete corruption and filthiness, the way it treats God's people, and its complete independence of God.
The charge of having "no knowledge" is not about intelligence. Another writer ties the missing knowledge to the missing God, and traces where that leaves a person.
But the workers of vanity — have they no knowledge, then? They would eat up God's people just as they eat bread: in every way like beasts, for these, too, do not call on Jehovah. It is man's privilege to know God. Not knowing Him, he has no real human "knowledge." So "workers of vanity" they will surely be… But the human beast here shows his fallen condition by what he hates. He is against God and His people, as we see. He is such a beast as the serpent was when the devil got into him. Sadly, that is the case: he has let the devil in.
"Eat up" is a picture. A reference work lists this verse among the places where eating means something other than a meal.
Besides the ordinary use of this word, it is also used as a symbol for 'consume, destroy': they "eat up my people as they eat bread." Psalm 14:4; compare Proverbs 30:14; Habakkuk 3:14; 2 Timothy 2:17.
They destroy God's people as easily as they reach for a slice of bread at dinner.
Verses 1–3 said there is no one who does good. Verse 4 then speaks of a group belonging to God. One writer explains how both can be true at once, and what happens next in the psalm.
He looks down to see if any understand or seek Him among men; but there are none. A remnant is there, formed by grace, and He already owns them as His people (v. 4). These the wicked eat up as they would bread — they do not call on Jehovah. It is man's full-blown pride and wickedness. But all is soon changed: God is in the congregation of the righteous. Fear falls on the proud, who a short time ago were scorning the poor for trusting Jehovah.
The distinction matters. Another writer keeps the two groups apart, and adds one more thing the attackers fail to know.
Those whom God calls His people are not to be confused with these men. God's people are being eaten up like bread by the scornful men described here. Yet these scorners are only workers of vanity — without knowledge. They do not even know their own weakness, which would have brought them to call on God.
The scorn described here is not confined to one era. A writer applies it to the ordinary experience of a believer surrounded by unbelief, and points out who ends up afraid.
When one is born again, he marvels at the ignorance of unbelievers, for the truth of God is clear and simple to a believing heart. Yet there are many who are proud of their unbelief and treat believers with contempt and scorn. In their ignorance, "they do not call on the Lord." But the believer may be in calm rest and confidence, while unbelievers will be "in great fear." They are too proud to admit their fear (v. 5)… Those who reject God cannot understand where the believer's confidence comes from, for the unseen God is with the righteous.
- No knowledge. God's question is not about brainpower. Knowing God is what makes knowledge truly human. Without Him, a man lives like a beast.
- No God. The same people who devour others are the people who never call on the Lord. Independence from God is the root; cruelty is the fruit.
- No thought. "As they eat bread" is the terrible detail. Eating pictures consuming and destroying, and these men do it as easily as they eat a daily meal.
- My people. God finds no one who does good. Yet grace has already formed a remnant He owns as His people. How the world treats them is the evidence against it.
- Then fear. The scorners end up afraid, because God is in the congregation of the righteous. Fear falls on the proud who once mocked the poor for trusting the Lord.
There were they in great fear; for God is in the generation of the righteous.
Psalm 14 has just described God looking down from heaven and finding no one who does good. Now terror falls — not on His people, but on the proud who were scorning them, because God is with the generation He calls righteous.
The psalm has been describing human pride at full height. Verse 5 is where that pride breaks.
In Psalm 14 the evil has reached its peak in God's sight. What is always true of human nature is now brought under God's eye, at the time when He is about to judge. It is man's full-blown pride and wickedness. But all is soon changed: God is in the congregation of the righteous. Fear falls upon the proud, who but a while ago were scorning the poor for trusting Jehovah.
The same contrast shows up in everyday life.
The believer may rest in calm confidence, while unbelievers will be "in great fear." They are too proud to admit that they are afraid (v. 5). Why are they in great fear? Because "God is with the generation of the righteous." The ungodly cannot see where the believer's confidence comes from. The unseen God is with the righteous.
The fear is not superstition. It is the first shadow of judgment, and a weak and hated people can cast it without lifting a hand.
At the fifth verse, as already said, God Himself comes into the scene. And man is with Him: "God is with the generation of the righteous." That is the real fear that comes upon the persecutor — the shadow of his approaching doom. How often have these weak, despised people thrown a panic into the army of their enemies! They did it simply by the light that shone out of them and around them. It is in effect what Peter says of the Christian: "If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you." (1 Peter 4:14.) ... The people of God have lifted no weapon and drawn up no battle line. Yet they have forced the mightiest to admit, "The LORD fights for them."
The word does not mark off a slice of time. It marks a moral character.
Parkhurst observes that "generation" is also used for people of the same quality and disposition, even though they are not from one place or one age. "God is with the generation of the righteous." (Psalm 14:5.) We also have "the generation of the upright," "the generation of those who seek Him," and "the generation of His wrath."
Verses 2–3 say no one does good. Verse 5 says God is with the righteous. Both stand, because grace makes people righteous. God does not find them so.
He had always been working His sovereign grace in the hearts of those who were the objects of His eternal purpose. The heirs of promise were always there. Even when He looked down from heaven on the children of men and saw them all turned aside and corrupt, there was still "the generation of the righteous," among whom He loved to be (Ps. 14:2-5). From Abel down to the coming of Christ there had been those who were the subjects of the sovereign grace of God.
Psalm 53 repeats this psalm almost word for word. What changes is the name used for God — and the scene.
In the first Psalm we see only the righteous and the wicked among the Jews. God is in the generation of the righteous, and He makes those who deny His existence afraid. In the second Psalm, besides these two groups, an invading enemy has now camped against them. Those who had turned away from God were afraid, because they did not trust Him. But there was no reason to fear, as what followed showed. God could do and did what His people could not.
Two names for God stand behind these psalms. The choice of name changes what each one brings out.
These psalms teach the same truths. But where the name Jehovah is used, the thought of relationship comes first. Where the name Elohim is used, we get the general result for the enemy.
- Presence — The verse turns on one fact: God is with a people. Everything else in it follows from that.
- Panic — That presence is what produces the terror. It is "the shadow of his approaching doom" falling on the persecutor, not fear in His people.
- People — "Generation" means a kind of person, not a period of time: people of the same quality and disposition, "even though they are not from one place or one age."
- Preserved — Though no one seeks God, grace keeps a company among whom He "loved to be." They are righteous by His work, not their own record.
- Proof — The same fact steadies the weak and terrifies the strong: the unseen God is with His people, and "the LORD fights for them."
Ye have shamed the counsel of the afflicted, because Jehovah [was] his refuge.
Psalm 14 spends four verses weighing man and finding nothing good. Then it turns: the people the scorners despise are the people God is with. Verse 6 catches the mockers mid-sneer and names the one thing they cannot reach.
The psalm is short, and its shape is easy to see. Its seven verses fall into two parts, and the break comes at verse 5.
There are seven verses, a true set of seven made of 4 + 3. The first four test man; the last three show God. This is very plainly marked. The estimate is complete, as it is brief. The verdict is easy to reach and quickly spoken. It is a judgment from which no appeal is possible.
The "plans" of the poor are what older translations call his "counsel": his settled choice to trust God. Unbelief cannot see the sense of that choice, so it answers with scorn.
When one is born again, he marvels at the ignorance of unbelievers, for the truth of God is clear and simple to a believing heart. Yet there are many who are proud of their unbelief and treat believers with contempt and scorn... The ungodly cannot understand the source of the believer's confidence, for the unseen God is with the righteous. In fact, is it not true that people's fear causes them to lash out at the poor who trust God, trying to shame them? "But the Lord is his refuge."
The mocking does not last. Those who tried to shame the trusting poor end up the frightened ones.
Man rises up in pride before Him: yes, He judges because flesh does so... It is man's full-blown pride and wickedness; but all is soon changed: God is in the congregation of the righteous. Fear falls upon the proud, who only a little while ago were scorning the poor for trusting Jehovah.
The oppressor may shame the plan. He cannot touch the One the plan rests on.
Here, then, is the enemy's limit. "You would put to shame the counsel of the humble; but Jehovah is his refuge." "As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people." (Ps. 125:2.) Blessed security! He who gave His life for the flock is with them, now "in the power of an endless life." And He says Himself, "Because I live, you also will live."
The same writer shows what happens to the persecutor once Jehovah appears.
Jehovah has appeared, and He is seen to be with the generation of the righteous. That at once changes everything for their persecutor. He is only dashing himself against the rock.
Psalm 53 repeats Psalm 14 almost word for word, but changes the name of God. Psalm 14 keeps "Jehovah", the LORD, the name of relationship; Psalm 53 uses "Elohim" instead.
The name Jehovah brings relationship with it, and verse 6 shows that relationship in the presence of Elohim with the righteous. "You have shamed the counsel of the poor, because Jehovah is his refuge." Psalm 53 uses Elohim instead. It gives the historical fact of what they were in the sight of Elohim... The two psalms teach the same truths. But the thought of relationship rules where the psalm says Jehovah, while where it says Elohim we get the general result for the enemy.
Commentators read the psalm as a picture of a coming time when godlessness reaches its full height. Verse 6 is what the godly hold on to then.
In a few brief words this psalm shows us the awful state of the world during the reign of Antichrist. On the surface, every moral foundation is gone. The faithful are no more. God is hidden. People fall away from Him completely, and sin lifts itself up against God.
Yet this is not only about the future. What will be plain then was already shown when Christ first came.
Can one doubt that prophetically it looks on to the age when Antichrist and his followers are in question? But the truth is that the first coming of Christ brought out morally what will be manifest at His second. This is man at his best without Christ and denying God... Remnant there is; but those of it renounce man and rest on Christ from God, as all saints since man fell.
- Refuge tested. The first four verses weigh man and find nothing good. The last three show God, and verse 6 stands in God's half, not man's.
- Refuge mocked. The scorner attacks the poor man's plan, which is simply to trust God. Unbelief meets that choice with contempt.
- Refuge held. The mocker can shame the plan, but not the Person behind it. The Lord surrounds His people like the mountains around Jerusalem. The scorner is "only dashing himself against the rock".
- Refuge named. The name here is Jehovah, the LORD, the name of relationship. God is not only strong. He is the afflicted man's own refuge.
- Refuge shared. This pride will reach its height in a coming day. The same choice stands now: turn from man and rest on Christ, as saints have done since man fell.
Oh that the salvation of Israel were come out of Zion! When Jehovah turneth again the captivity of his people, Jacob shall be glad, Israel shall rejoice.
The psalm has just described a world where no one seeks God and the wicked eat up His people like bread. Then the mood turns. The psalmist stops looking at the ruin, begins to long for rescue, and names the place it must come from.
The closing verse is a prayer, and one writer shows how much it holds: what kind of hope it is, where the rescue comes from, and where the people still are.
Verse 7 shows us that all this looks ahead. It is prophetic, and it tells us where and how it will happen. It is what the godly man desires, and faith gives him that understanding. Notice that he looks for it out of Zion, and he is not content until the LORD establishes praise there. Notice too that the people are seen as being in captivity.
Another writer names what drives the prayer, and who this salvation turns out to be.
In verse 7 it is not fear that moves the psalmist, but a deep longing for the Lord to step in publicly in the affairs of men. We may wonder whether David fully understood what he was asking for, but "the salvation of Israel" is the Lord Jesus Himself, as Luke 2:28-30 suggests.
The place matters because a Person is coming from it.
But the psalm ends with the salvation of Israel still only in view. It comes out of Zion, through the Deliverer who is to come there — the King once rejected, and then welcomed by a willing people who gladly submit to Him. It will happen suddenly, and then their captivity will be turned in a moment: "let Jacob rejoice, let Israel be glad."
That truth once settled a dispute about where God should be worshipped. The Samaritans had their own rival place of worship on Mount Gerizim.
The Lord clearly rejected the claims of Gerizim and the worship carried on there: "You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews." The Samaritans condemned themselves, because the Deliverer was to come out of Zion (Ps. 14:7), and the King would come from the family line of Jesse (Isa. 11:1). By standing apart from the Jews, they denied this.
Has this prayer already been answered? Some point to the group who came home from exile in Babylon. Others take it as a picture of the church. One writer weighs both against the size of the words.
Psalm 14 looks ahead to the time of Israel's final freedom — "Oh, that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion!" (v. 7). Such language is far too big for the weak remnant who returned from Babylon, and it has nothing to do with the Church. It points to the time all the prophets speak of: the reign of Messiah and the glory of Israel.
(Several writers here quote older translations. Where they say "brings back the captivity," the ESV says "restores the fortunes of his people.")
The verse ends with two names for the same people, and each name carries its own weight.
At that time the Lord will fully bring back the captivity of His people. Jacob will rejoice — Jacob, the name of a faltering, undeserving people. And Israel will be glad — Israel, the name God gave that nation in pure grace, meaning "a prince with God." What an answer to the fool's claim that there is "no God"!
Romans 3 quotes this psalm's picture of human sin. One writer compares the rescue the psalm asks for with Paul's answer, which turns on propitiation — a sacrifice that fully satisfies God about sin.
Take Psalm 14 and Isaiah 59, and compare what they mean in the Old Testament with the use Romans 3 makes of them. In the psalm, the terrible picture of the people's sin ends with the desire that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion, and with the hope of their joy when the LORD brings back the captives. In the prophecy, a similar picture of their moral ruin ends with the clear promise that the Redeemer will come to Zion. In both, it is redemption by power. But look at what follows when Paul quotes these scriptures: it is plainly God's free justification by His grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. But how? Is it by His coming in power and glory to deliver? No — "whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith."
The name Jacob also points back to the man himself, who had to wait for God's salvation.
Jacob had to wait for it. Many centuries later old Simeon could say, "my eyes have seen your salvation," and each of us can now say that we have experienced it in heart and life. But in the sense Jacob meant it, the cry still goes up: "Oh, that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion!" (Ps. 14:7).
- Cry — The verse is faith's desire, not despair. After seeing that no one seeks God, the psalmist longs for God to act in public.
- Place — Salvation comes out of Zion because the Deliverer comes from there. This salvation is a Person, the Lord Jesus Himself, so Gerizim had no claim to it.
- Scope — The words are too large for the return from Babylon, and they do not describe the church. They point to Messiah's reign.
- Grace — Jacob is the name of an undeserving people. Israel is the name grace gave them. Their joy is God's answer to the fool who said there is no God.
- Blood — Romans 3 quotes this psalm's verdict on man. Paul answers it with propitiation through Christ's blood, not with rescue by power. And the cry for Israel's own rescue still goes up.
(A Psalm of David.) Jehovah, who shall sojourn in thy tent? who shall dwell in the hill of thy holiness?
Psalm 15 opens not with a statement but with a question put to God: who may live as His guest? The rest of the psalm answers with a description. That raises a harder question: does anyone match it?
The psalm before this one described people who live as though God did not exist. One writer sets the two psalms side by side as a deliberate contrast. The "remnant" he names is the preserved company of the Jews.
Psalm 14 gives the character of the wicked who will be cut off, and Psalm 15 gives the character of the remnant who stand. The remnant who are godly in practice will have the blessing when Christ comes.
The word behind "sojourn" is the ordinary word for staying somewhere as a stranger.
"Jagur" means "he sojourns," the word used by the Psalmist for "abiding" in God's tabernacle. (Ps. 15:1; Ps. 61:4.) The land of Israel was God's, and they were His guests — "strangers and sojourners with Me," He says. (Lev. 25:23.)
A tent sounds temporary. The second line of the verse answers that by pairing the tent with dwelling on the holy hill. Older translations call this tent a "tabernacle."
In David's reign the ark stayed in a tent on Zion, but here that is only the veil through which we look forward to the future. The "tent," understood this way, and the thought of sojourning in it, do not mean anything temporary. We must see it as parallel to abiding in God's holy hill. Each expression adds something to the full thought. The grace of the wilderness journey shines out in the first. And God's dwelling among His creatures must in one sense always be only a tent, though the "abiding" takes away the fear that He may leave again after all.
The verse names two places. One writer finds two blessings in them.
This is the character of the preserved remnant of the Jews. They will share in the blessings of Jehovah's dwelling and Jehovah's government — the "tabernacle" and the "hill" — when the Lord reigns from Zion.
Read on its own, the psalm names no one who meets its terms.
In view of all the wickedness in the world, he wants to know who can have a place with God. Have you ever thought that the fifteenth psalm is one great question mark? It asks a question without really answering it, because it sets the standard so high. But we move on into the sixteenth, and there is the answer — there is the One who will stay in God's tabernacle. Who is it? Is it some mighty king?... No. It is He who once walked here as the lowly Jesus, the man of faith, walking through this world as you and I have to walk through it.
Read that way, the list of traits in verses 2–5 stops being a checklist and becomes a description of a Person.
It is a Psalm of David, but its subject is clearly Christ. Jesus alone had the qualities that prove a man is fit for his Maker's presence. He practised righteousness because He was the Just One. He walked in the perfection of His own spotless nature, and He always chose the way of obedience to the Father's will. The master thought in the fool's heart is "there is no God." The delight of Jesus was to do the will of God.
Some read the psalm as telling a guilty person how to earn a welcome. One writer rules that out.
The question here is not about a sinner's right to the kingdom. That would be handled very differently. This is about the remnant, showing themselves to be righteous, in contrast with the evildoers of Psalm 14.
Almost everything in verses 2–5 concerns how a person treats other people. But the psalm begins with God, and one writer argues that order matters.
But we must always remember that we have duties to GOD, as well as to our fellow men. More than that: unless we carry out our duties to God, we fail — and we are bound to fail — in our real attitude to our fellow men... Suppose the planets of our solar system agreed to keep in right relation to each other. What use would that be if they ignored the centre of the system, the SUN? Nothing but terrible disaster would come of such an arrangement.
- Question. The psalm opens with a question: who may stay in God's tent and live on His holy hill? The two phrases name two blessings — God's dwelling and God's government.
- Guest. "Sojourn" is the word for staying as a stranger. The one who stays is God's guest in a home that is not his own. "Dwell" removes any fear that the stay is short.
- Standard. The traits listed set the bar very high. The psalm reads as a question left open, not a list of entry conditions.
- Person. The answer arrives in Psalm 16: Jesus alone had the qualities that fit a man for God's presence.
- Order. The list is not a sinner's route to acceptance. It describes the godly, and it starts with God. Leave Him out, and dealings with people go wrong.
He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth from his heart.
The psalm opens with a question: who may be a guest in God's tent? Who may live on His holy hill? This verse gives the first half of the answer. It names three marks, and they raise a harder question — who could ever meet them?
The issue is not whether God is kind, but whether a person's character suits the place. One writer puts the matter as one of fitness:
The question is plainly a question of congruity. Let God's grace be all that He has shown it to be, yet He cannot dwell with those who are alien to His nature. Grace itself can only avail to bring us near to God by bringing into His likeness also those it brings near. Thank God that it really does this, and we have now the character of those who are fitted by grace to dwell with Him.
The three phrases cover a whole life — how a man walks, what he does, what he says. They describe a life that only new birth makes possible:
Each of these qualifications is possible only for those who have been born again by the word and Spirit of God. How wonderful it will be when all Israel shows such characteristics! First, it is essential that one walks uprightly and works righteousness, speaking the truth from his heart (v. 2). So his walk, his works and his words are right. This reminds us of 2 Timothy 2:22, where an obedient servant is told to follow "righteousness" first of all.
Righteousness comes first, and love for the neighbour follows:
The first thing is righteousness then, which must be the basis of all else. The second is love, for, as the apostle says, "Love does no wrong to a neighbor."
The man speaks truth in his heart, where no one else can check it. That rules out honesty kept up because it pays:
The man in the Psalm speaks truth in his heart. The cynic who said that honesty was the best policy, because he had tried both policies, was not honest in his heart. He was honest for profit, for he found he could gain more by honesty than by dishonesty. If he could have gained more by dishonesty, dishonest he would have been. To speak truth from the heart is to love truth for truth's sake. And he who has to do with the God of truth will revere truth and speak it from his heart.
The verse begins with a man's walk before God. Only later does the psalm turn to his neighbour. The order cannot be flipped:
We must always remember that we have duties to GOD, as well as to our fellow men. More than that, if we do not carry out our duties to God, we fail — and we are bound to fail — in our real attitude to our fellow men. We might illustrate it like this. Suppose the planets of our solar system agreed to keep in right relation to each other. What use would that be if they left out the centre of the system, the SUN? Nothing but terrific disaster would come of it… It matters little what social background a man is born into. What matters is his relation first of all to GOD. Right with Him, he will be right with his fellow man.
Read as a standard, the verse leaves everyone short. Read as a portrait, it has a face:
It is a Psalm of David, but its subject is clearly Christ. In Jesus, and in Him alone, were found the qualities which prove man's fitness for his Maker's presence. He worked righteousness because He was the Just One. He walked in the perfection of His own spotless nature. He always chose the way of obedience to the Father's will… The law was within His heart. Truth came only from the lips of Him who is Himself the Truth.
These marks belong to a certain kind of person. And the promise made to them reaches beyond Israel:
Such things as these are characteristic of those who have been born of God. One who has such character will never be moved. They will abide in God's tabernacle and in His holy hill. This will be true for the godly in Israel during the millennium, and in a higher way still for all believers of the present age, who will enjoy the presence of the Lord for eternity in the place of highest honour.
- Fitness — God's grace is not in question; likeness to Him is. Grace brings people near by making them like Him.
- Foundation — Righteousness comes first, and love for the neighbour rests on it.
- Inward — Truth belongs in the heart, not just on the lips. Honesty kept up only because it pays is not honesty in the heart.
- Order — Duties to God come before duties to people; get the centre wrong and the rest collapses.
- Fulfilment — In Jesus alone these qualities were found complete. Those born of God bear the same marks, and they will never be moved.
[He that] slandereth not with his tongue, doeth not evil to his companion, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour;
Psalm 15 opens with a question: who may stay in God's tent and live on His holy hill? Verse 3 gives part of the answer. It describes how such a person treats the people around him. It is a portrait drawn in negatives: three things this person will not do with his tongue or his hands.
This verse is one line in a longer answer. One writer sets the whole psalm in a time of trouble still to come.
The question is raised: who will come safely through the persecutions and sufferings of the reign of Antichrist? Who will live to enjoy the blessings of the millennium, which will flow from the tabernacle and the holy hill of Zion? The Psalm answers this question by presenting the moral features of the godly.
Verse 2 describes the man himself. Verse 3 turns to the people around him, and one phrase in it needs care.
Second comes his relation to his neighbours... "Take up" has the sense of "adopting" the reproach in order to spread it.
The order matters. Verse 2 comes before verse 3 for a reason.
The first thing is righteousness, which must be the basis of all else. The second is love, for, as the apostle says, "Love does no wrong to a neighbor." That is almost word for word what we have here. To this is added, "nor takes up a reproach" — the reproach of another — "against his friend." The first phrase here, "who does not go about with his tongue," appears as "backbites not" in the older translation. Its connection with what follows is clear.
A person can treat everyone around him well and still leave God out.
But we must always remember that we have duties to God, as well as to our fellow men. More than that: unless we carry out our duties to God, we fail, and are bound to fail, in our real attitude to our fellow men. Suppose the planets of our solar system agreed to keep in right relation to each other. What use would that be, if the centre of the system, the sun, were ignored in the arrangement? Nothing but terrible disaster would come of it... Right with Him, a man will be right with his fellow man.
The verse names speech first. One writer counts what the tongue costs.
Now we come to what the man in this Psalm does not do. He does not backbite with his tongue. We believe it is a true statement that nine-tenths of the sins committed by humanity have to do with the tongue... Man cannot tame the tongue. What man cannot do, God can do. The Apostle James tells us the tongue is "set on fire by hell."
The test of this is consistency — how a person speaks when his neighbour cannot hear.
The man in our Psalm will not do evil to his neighbour, nor listen to stories against his character. He will not be one thing before his neighbour's face and another thing behind his back. He can be trusted by his neighbour to act rightly in relation to him, for he will act as God would act in this respect.
"Takes up a reproach" puts guilt on the listener, not only the source. The person here refuses to become the next link in the chain.
The second qualification is that of the person's attitude toward others: he does not backbite, he does not do evil to his neighbor, nor take up a reproach against his friend, that is, he does not take the word of someone else in speaking against a friend.
Writers treating the same duty elsewhere in Scripture press how easily good people fall at exactly this point.
There are few who would not be horrified at the thought of raising a false report... Many who would shun the first sin fall into the snare of the second. Someone hears a report. It seems true, so he passes it on. Yet if he had taken any trouble to check it, he might have found it false... So the responsibility rests on the hearer of reports, as well as on the one who repeats them. If people remembered this, many a slander would be stopped at the start, many a gossip exposed, and many a broken friendship avoided.
Measured against this standard, no one qualifies. One writer follows what the psalms do next.
Before the psalm of atonement, Psalm 15 raises the question of dwelling with Jehovah. But no one is found who answers to the requirements. Then the very next psalm, Psalm 16, presents Christ on His way to eternal joy, in Jehovah's presence.
- Question — the psalm asks who may live on God's holy hill. It answers by describing character, not credentials.
- Root — righteousness comes first, then love. Right with God, a person will be right with his neighbour.
- Tongue — the verse names speech first, because most human sin comes out through the tongue.
- Ears — "taking up a reproach" means adopting someone else's accusation and passing it on. The listener shares the guilt, not just the source.
- Christ — no one answers these requirements, so the next psalm turns from the standard to the One who met it.
In whose eyes the depraved person is contemned, and who honoureth them that fear Jehovah; who, if he have sworn to his own hurt, changeth it not;
The psalm asks who may live in God's presence. Verse 4 answers with three tests: whom a person refuses to admire, whom he honours, and whether his word holds when keeping it costs him money. Commentators read the first line in two ways.
The psalm is not asking how God forgives a sinner. It asks who fits in His company at all.
The question is plainly a question of fitness. Let God's grace be all that He has shown it to be, yet He cannot dwell with those who are alien to His nature. Grace itself can only bring us near to God by also bringing into His likeness those it brings near. Thank God that it really does this, and we now have the character of those who are fitted by grace to dwell with Him.
The verse measures a person by his reactions to others. One writer explains the force of "despised":
In his eyes a vile person is despised, that is, not hated, but treated as of no value, therefore avoided (v. 4). On the other hand, "he honors those who fear the Lord." He is known by the company he keeps.
This is the fourth mark in the psalm's portrait:
Fourthly, his attitude towards the godly. Those who fear the Lord he honours, whatever their social position.
Commentators differ here. One writer follows Delitzsch and turns the line inward. The man is despised in his own eyes:
The third part of this description shows us a soul in the presence of God. Here the translation given by Delitzsch seems better than the common version. Job illustrates this sign of a soul before God, though he was the best man of his day on earth. The contrast, as Delitzsch remarks, is well kept with the following clause, "he honours those that fear Jehovah." How beautiful this spirit of self-judgment, along with the honour given to another for the very thing that marks himself!
Judging others rightly comes with a condition.
We all have the flesh, and it responds in sympathy to the flesh in others. Only as we judge it in ourselves can we judge it rightly in others.
The last clause is about a promise that turns out to cost the one who made it. One writer puts it in business terms:
A man promises to sell his house to a possible buyer for £1,000. When the buyer arrives with his cheque to settle the deal, the seller tells him that another offer of £1,200 has come in and he has accepted it. The seller made his promise by word of mouth. Because it was not in writing, he took the chance to go back on his word. The man in Psalm 15 would show that his word was as good as his bond. He would honour his word rather than make a profit by being dishonourable.
On our own we cannot hold to a costly word.
Part of what is shown to please Jehovah and to suit the hill of His holiness is this: if a man has sworn to his own hurt, he does not change. He who is by grace steadfast in word and deed, hating evil and holding to good, shall never be moved even in a world of empty show. But when we give ourselves up in earnest to do the will of God, we soon find out how fickle we are. As long as it is only a theory of duty, we spare ourselves and let ourselves off easily... The Holy Spirit then gives us power to glorify God, whatever it may cost us. It is our delight to please Christ in this way.
One writer finds this verse lived out by Christ in the Gospels, and points to two scenes:
"Behold, an Israelite indeed" (John 1) was more than an expression of divine omniscience recognising the faith He had Himself given. It was also honourable mention by the perfect Servant of Jehovah. He was naming one who in his measure was like-minded with Himself — one who feared the Lord (verse 4). The hypocritical sinners troubled His righteous soul with their heartless and empty pretence of godliness. His treatment of them expressed the contempt for the vile which the same verse credits to the man whom God accepts (Matt. 23).
- Fitness: the psalm asks who is at home with God, and grace answers by making those it brings near like Him.
- Eyes: the test starts with what you value. You count the vile person as worth nothing and keep away.
- Honour: the same eyes honour those who fear the Lord, whatever their rank.
- Word: a promise that turns out to cost you is still a promise. Your word is as good as your bond, profit or no profit.
- Never moved: we find out how fickle we are the moment we mean it. The Holy Spirit supplies the power to glorify God whatever it costs.
[He that] putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these [things] shall never be moved.
The psalm opened with a question: who may live as a guest in God's tent and dwell on His holy hill? Verse 5 gives the last two marks of the answer. Both involve money: what he refuses to take from a neighbour in trouble, and what he refuses to accept for twisting a verdict.
The earlier tests are behind him. This one puts money in his hand and watches what he does.
Finally, the chance to profit from his neighbour's poverty tests him, and he refuses it. Charging interest was completely forbidden between one Israelite and another. He also turns down the ready bribe that would twist justice. This completes the picture of the perfect Israelite. "He who does these things shall never be moved."
Older translations say "usury" here. The word has narrowed in meaning since, and the law behind it had one kind of borrower in view.
In Scripture this word does not mean excessive interest, as it does now. It means interest of any kind. The law forbade Israelites to charge interest to a fellow Israelite. It always assumed the borrower was poor, since otherwise he would not need to borrow. They were allowed to lend to foreigners at interest.
Ordinary business interest is one thing. A person in need is another.
If he lends money, he does not charge interest (v. 5). Exodus 22:25 explicitly warns Israelites against charging interest when lending money to the poor. Of course, it is only proper business to expect interest from a bank, as Luke 19:23 tells us. But if someone is in need and asks for money to help him, charging him interest is certainly cruel. By faith a believer would gladly lend with no such condition. He may even be glad to give with no strings attached (2 Cor. 9:7), expecting nothing in return.
Lending is not the only place this greed shows up.
A loan can be a great help to a borrower in times of great difficulty. But if the lender charges a crushing rate of interest, the deal becomes very evil indeed. How many a moneylender has ruined his clients by this means, fastening on them chains they cannot break. The man of our Psalm would not operate in "the Black Market," taking unscrupulous advantage of a time of shortage in goods.
The second half of the verse moves from the marketplace to the courtroom. It names the victim: the innocent, the one who has done nothing to deserve the verdict money buys.
Judges who have no fear of God have often taken bribes from wealthy men to twist the verdict against the innocent. The true believer refuses bribes intended to influence him in one way or another.
Another writer reads the law against bribery further, past the obvious envelope of cash.
The law forbids every form of bribery. A bribe is an appeal to the feelings of the person who takes it. Where bribery is widespread, justice is almost unknown. Let us read this verse in its spirit as well as its letter. Self-interest can blind the eyes of a sincere Christian who would never for a moment think of taking a bribe.
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The list is not a fee charged at the door. It describes what fits a person for the company God brings him into.
The question is plainly a question of fitness. Let God's grace be all that He has shown it to be, yet He cannot dwell with those who are alien to His nature. Grace itself can only bring us near to God by also bringing into His likeness those it brings near. Thank God that it really does this, and we now have the character of those who are fitted by grace to dwell with Him.
The verse ends with a promise, and one writer traces how far it reaches.
Such things as these are characteristic of those who have been born of God. One who has such character will never be moved. They will abide in God's tabernacle and in His holy hill. This will be true for the godly in Israel during the millennium. It will be true in a higher way still for all believers of the present age. They will enjoy the presence of the Lord for eternity, in the place of highest honour.
- Tested — The portrait ends where character is hardest to fake: a neighbour's poverty in one hand, a ready bribe in the other. Refusing both completes the picture.
- Lending — "Usury" meant interest of any kind. The ban protected the poor borrower. Ordinary business interest is another matter, and giving outright is better still.
- Exploiting — The same principle condemns crushing rates. It also condemns profiteering that turns a shortage into someone else's chains.
- Judging — A bribe against the innocent buys a verdict. Self-interest can blind even someone who would never touch an envelope of cash.
- Unmoved — This character is not the price of admission. It is the likeness grace produces — and the one who bears it will never be shaken.
(Michtam of David.) Preserve me, O God for I trust in thee.
Psalm 16 opens with an appeal, not a claim, and the New Testament writers quote it as the words of Jesus Himself. So why would the One who holds all power ask to be kept?
No one has settled what the word beside David's name at the top of the psalm means. One writer lists the options:
This is the first psalm with the heading "Michtam" — "Michtam of David." Writers give it three different meanings. The common one is "a golden psalm." Some say it means "hidden," a psalm with a hidden meaning. Others say "engraved," so that it will not pass away.
For another writer the heading points to whose thoughts the psalm carries:
All the headings of the psalms are inspired. "Michtam of David" tells us that David was the instrument the Spirit of God used to bring out the innermost feelings and thoughts of Christ as a Man in this world.
We know who is speaking from the way the apostles used the psalm:
In the New Testament both the apostle Paul and the apostle Peter, speaking by the Holy Spirit, use quotations from Psalm 16, as being the language of the Lord Jesus (see Acts 2:25-28; Hebrews 2:13). We thus know, beyond all question, that in this beautiful Psalm we hear the voice of Jesus telling us of the life that He lived when passing through this world.
This trust does not stop at the opening line:
The same psalm gives the clearest proof that the Messiah would trust God completely all through His life. He would lay down His life with a trust as unbroken and perfect in death as in life. And He would stand again in resurrection. So this is the psalm of confidence in God that runs right through life, death and resurrection.
The Hebrew word behind "God" here is not the usual one, and it colours the whole appeal:
The psalmist cries to El (the Mighty One), trusting in Him. This is the place of dependence and subjection: man trusting God and leaning on Him in holy, trusting dependence. This is the keynote of the psalm.
The verse has two halves, and one writer keeps them apart. (He quotes the older wording "In You do I put my trust"; the ESV reads "in you I take refuge.")
The Lord Jesus did not trust Himself. He did not look to others — men or angels — to keep Him safe from all the opposition and dangers He had to meet. He depended on God alone, saying, "Preserve me, O God." And He said it with full confidence: "In You do I put my trust." He depended completely on God's hand of power, because He had complete confidence in God's heart of love.
The prayer is remarkable because He had power and would not use it for Himself. (This writer renders "O God" as "O Mighty.")
"Preserve me, O Mighty: for in You have I taken refuge," is the language of One who needs God and hangs on Him as completely as anyone ever has. He is in man's world, made what it is by sin, not to hide Himself from its sorrows in any way, but to know them all. Power may be in His hand, and He shows it without limit for others. But for Himself He has none, and will use none.
In the Gospels He speaks about His own resurrection differently:
The whole psalm breathes this spirit of dependence. Here He does not say, "Destroy this temple and I will raise it up in three days" — that was taking a divine place. His body was a temple, and He raised it up Himself. Here He leans as man on Jehovah — perfect in both.
Being kept and feeling your need of it are two different things. (The ESV reads "Savior" in 1 Timothy 4:10, where this writer follows an older rendering, "preserver.")
It is one thing to be preserved by God. It is another to feel the need of His preservation in a hostile world, for God "is the preserver of all people, especially of those who believe" (1 Tim. 4:10). The more a heart feels the evil of the world, the more it feels the need of God's preservation. Christ's feelings were infinitely sensitive, and He knew that all the forces of evil were set on destroying Him. Is it any wonder that the Spirit of Christ said, "Preserve me, O God"?
- Golden. Commentators read the heading "Michtam" as "golden," "hidden," or "engraved" — none of the readings is certain.
- Voice. Peter and Paul quote this psalm as the speech of Jesus, so the trust in verse 1 is first His before it is ours.
- Trust. The verse holds two things: dependence on God's power and confidence in God's love. He leaned on the hand because He was sure of the heart.
- Refuge. He used His power for others and never once for Himself. Here He takes refuge as Man, rather than acting from the divine place.
- Path. That same trust carries through life, death and resurrection. The more we feel the evil around us, the more this prayer becomes our own.
Thou [my soul] hast said to Jehovah, Thou art the Lord my goodness [extendeth] not to thee; --
In this psalm a man speaks to God, and the second verse says something startling: his goodness does not reach God. Who is speaking, and where does that goodness go instead?
A note on wording. The writers below use an older translation: "my goodness extends not to you." They explain that sense. The ESV reads, "I have no good apart from you."
David wrote the psalm, but the New Testament points past him to another speaker.
Here we hear Him speak; it is not David who speaks of himself. We learn this from Acts 2:25. There Peter quotes this Psalm and says that David spoke about Him (Christ). As the wholly obedient One, in humiliation He lived the life of faith and dependence on God. He took the place of lowliness. In it He said to Jehovah, "You are my Lord." And this humiliation was for the saints and the excellent — His own people, in whom is all His delight.
Calling God "my Lord" is the language of a servant. The remarkable thing is that this servant was free to speak otherwise.
He takes the place of dependence, of trust, not of divine equality. And He who says He does not must have had the title to do so, or He need not have said it. He was taking another place. He takes the place of servant, and calls Jehovah His Lord. Nor was this all. He takes a place … with the saints on earth. And this He does, not merely as a fact, but with the fullest affection.
The sentence is not a denial that He was good. It marks which kind of goodness He is speaking about.
Doing only the Father's will, all that He did was perfectly good. He "went about doing good." There was also divine goodness toward man, perfectly expressed in the Son of God. But this Psalm speaks of the goodness of Christ as man towards men. That goodness is perfect in its place, yet it does not rise to the height of divine goodness. So the Lord can say of this goodness, "My goodness extends not to You."
Verse 2 does not finish the thought. Verse 3 completes it: what does not go up to God goes out to His people.
So He now says to Jehovah, "My goodness extends not to You." The words that follow explain it: "it is for the saints that are upon the earth and the excellent." That is, it is not to profit Me with You. It is, in fact, the expression of that divine goodness — the "love" that "does not seek its own," but seeks the blessing of others. And He says this while taking His place plainly as the Servant of Jehovah, to do His will. Here is the keynote of all that follows.
Refusing to claim what was His own does not make Christ less. Commentators call it the very thing that shows His glory, and they point to His baptism, where He stood with the godly people of Israel.
In my view the main idea of the Psalm is the perfect dependence of the Messiah on Jehovah, shown in His humiliation here below (Hebrews 2) and proved by His resurrection (Acts 2). He is a divine person, yet He takes the place of servant. So His soul said to Jehovah, "You are my Lord; my goodness is not to You." This is His self-renunciation as man, and it was in truth His moral glory. On the other hand, He said, "To the saints who are in the earth, and the excellent — all my delight is in them." This was acted out in His baptism. There He fulfilled all righteousness and identified Himself in grace with the godly in Israel. As man, He did not exalt Himself, but gave the entire glory to God. And He did not stand at a cold distance from the despised few who bowed to John the Baptist's testimony. He graciously entered into their true place before God and felt with them in it.
The psalm does not only describe Christ. It maps a road open to anyone who trusts God the way He did.
His delights were with the excellent of the earth, the godly in Israel, who by confession of sin had opened their hearts to God's grace. Then He goes on through that psalm to separate Himself from every form of ungodliness… It is faith all through. The faith that Christ had, we too have the privilege of sharing as we pass through this world.
- Speaker — Peter's quotation in Acts 2:25 shows David is speaking of Christ, who lived a life of dependence on God.
- Place — "You are my Lord" is servant language. He takes dependence, not divine equality — and only One with a right to equality would need to say so.
- Goodness — He does not deny being good. He speaks of goodness as man toward men, which does not rise to the height of divine goodness.
- Direction — The goodness that does not go up to God runs out to the saints on earth; it is love that does not seek its own.
- Result — Giving up His own place is itself His moral glory. He showed it at His baptism among the godly, and the same faith is open to us.
To the saints that are on the earth, and to the excellent [thou hast said], In them is all my delight.
The New Testament applies Psalm 16 to Christ, who speaks in it as a servant. In verse 3 He turns from God to a group of people on earth — so who are they, and why does He call them "excellent"?
Commentators read the psalm as the words of Christ taking a chosen position. It is not His place as God, but a place beside others.
In Psalm 16, Christ takes formally His place among the remnant. Peter quotes it to prove His resurrection, and the letter to the Hebrews refers to its principle to show that He shared in human nature… He takes the place of dependence, of trust, not of divine equality. And He who says He is not taking that place must have had a right to it, or He would not have needed to say so. He was taking another place. He takes the place of servant, and calls Jehovah His Lord. Nor was this all. He takes a place with the saints on earth — however alone He might be in His perfection, and perfect in taking it.
In older English translations the link between verse 2 and verse 3 is unclear. One writer suggested a reading that ties the two verses together as a matched pair.
Instead of reading, "But to the saints," and so on, one servant of the Lord pointed out that the sense might be brought out this way: "I have said to the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, In them is all my delight." This makes the two lines match: "O my soul, you have said to the Lord … but I have said to the saints." First, there is the lowliness of our blessed Lord as man. Second, there is His identification with the saints on the earth, and His delight in them.
One writer says who these people were, and points to the moment Christ joined them. Older translations read "the saints that are in the earth."
He identified Himself with the true remnant of Israel. They proved they were such by taking their first step toward God as sinners: confessing their sins, judging themselves before Him, and giving up all claim to blessing, in baptism, which was the symbol of death under God's judgment. They had become "the saints that are in the earth, the excellent," of whom the Lord speaks in Psalm 16:3, at the very opening of His path of life, saying, "in whom is all my delight." His taking His place with them, in wonderful grace, was the signal for the heavens to open to Him, because they had now found an object on earth to gaze upon. The Spirit of God came down like a dove and rested on Him. A voice from heaven declared Him to be the beloved Son of the Father, the perfect object of His pleasure.
This association is earthly, not heavenly:
Note also, it is not with the heavenly saints that He associates Himself. Those He speaks of here are not united to Him in heaven. But He did associate with them. Some may go to heaven along that path of life whose track He Himself has left. Yet His link with them, and theirs with Him, is under the title of the excellent of the earth.
The title is not a description of natural quality. It is something He gives.
Not only does He call believers "saints," but "the excellent," so that He can fully identify Himself with them. Of course they are not saints and excellent by natural birth. But this is what He has made them by His work of new birth in their souls. The Father has expressed His great delight in His beloved Son (Matt. 3:17), but to have the Son express His delight in believers is wonderful indeed.
His delight rests on the people themselves. He does not withdraw it when they fail:
No matter how feeble or failing they are, He says they are the excellent, and His delight is in them. Perhaps not in their state, but in them. And He must have them with Him. "Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am." He would have them with Him!
Where Christ's delight rests sets a test for us:
I must find more pleasure in the company of the saints than in any other company in the world. If I do not, I cannot be in the mind of Christ. For He said of the saints, and the excellent of the earth, "In them is all my delight."
- Descent — Christ speaks here as a servant, not as God's equal. Only someone with a right to that higher place could say He was not taking it.
- Delight — the same voice that says "You are my Lord" upward says "all my delight" downward, toward people on earth.
- Dignity — "saints" and "excellent" are titles He gives through new birth, not qualities they brought.
- Durability — His delight is in them, not in their condition; failure and feebleness do not cancel it.
- Demand — where His delight rests, ours should rest too. If we prefer other company, we are not yet in His mind.
Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after another their drink-offerings of blood will I not offer, and I will not take up their names into my lips.
Psalm 16 is spoken by Christ as a dependent Man on earth, and after He names the saints as those in whom all His delight is, verse 4 turns to the opposite company. The verse is His flat refusal of idolatry — its worship, its names, and the multiplied sorrows it brings.
The psalm's opening sets a Man trusting God, and the fourth verse belongs to that same voice. One writer traces how the speaker takes a place of subjection and then, from within it, rejects every rival object.
It is in fact Messiah upon earth who speaks, pleading His trust and confidence... How beautifully does David's Michtam mark with precision the position of Christ as a man, taking a place of subjection here upon the earth, and in that place making Jehovah alone His portion, and the saints only His delight! Every false god He refuses utterly: "Their drink-offerings of blood will I not offer, nor take up their names into my lips." With His whole heart He rejected idolatry, that ancient sin of Israel soon to be more blasphemously revived.
The reference to idolatry is not accidental. Commentators tie it to a long-running dispute between God and His people, and to a return of that sin still ahead.
The reader will notice the reference to idolatry (one of God's great controversies with Israel) in the fourth verse. From Matthew 12:43-45 and Isaiah 65 we learn that the Jews will fall into idolatry in the latter days. Jehovah alone is acknowledged by the prophetic Spirit of Christ. It is after this is all done away that He will rejoice, in the days that are to come, in the portion which Jehovah has given Him with the excellent of the earth.
The word "hasten" describes direction more than distance. However far a person has travelled, the turn itself is what marks them out.
It is the contrast of those who are of the world with those who are of God. The Lord would have no fellowship with these. He says, I will have no communion with the things with which they have communion... They "hasten after another god" — no matter what the measure of their departure, their faces are set another way.
The verse states an outcome, not merely a threat. One writer reads Israel's whole history — past, present and future — as the proof of it, and draws the rule out for anyone.
"Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after another god." So says the Spirit of Christ, in Psalm 16. Israel has proved, is proving, and shall yet more fully prove the solemn truth of these words... all go to confirm and illustrate the truth that the sure and certain way to multiply our sorrows is to turn away from the Lord, and look to any creature resource... May we learn to cleave to the Lord with purpose of heart, and turn away, with holy decision, from every other object.
A drink offering was meant to be poured out with wine. Substituting blood tells you what kind of worship this is.
The drink offerings of wine in Leviticus 23:18 speak of the joy the offerer has in the burnt offering, but drink offerings of blood indicate the cruelty of idolatrous worship in carelessly shedding blood and attaching a religious significance to this in order to justify their evil. The Lord Jesus would not even take on His lips the names of such idolaters. Thus verse 4 is negative, showing the Lord's refusal of idolatry.
Refusing to name the idols is obedience to a command Israel had been given and had broken. Christ keeps in spirit what the nation abandoned.
Well did every act of the lowly Man show this. God's thought in that command was exhibited in Him; God was in all His thoughts... It was in this connection that He said: "Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after another god; their drink offerings of blood will I not offer, nor take up their names into My lips" (Ps. 16:4-6). How opposite was all this to Israel, who had been commanded: "Make no mention of the name of other gods, neither let it be heard out of thy mouth" (Ex. 23:13).
The refusal in this verse is not confined to carved images. What competes for the heart today is smaller and easier to accept — and it works the same way.
The life of the perfect Man is a life of separation from evil. The Lord refused every object that would come in between the soul and God... A very little bit of this world is too often enough to trap our souls, and so we turn aside to seek some passing satisfaction in the things of this world, only to find that we multiply sorrows to ourselves. The Lord refused the idols of this world. He would not take up their names into His lips. The word to us is, "Little children, keep yourselves from idols" (1 John 5:21).
- Speaker — Christ speaks here as the dependent Man on earth, with Jehovah alone as His portion and the saints alone as His delight.
- Turn — "Hasten after another god" describes a direction of the face, not a distance travelled; any measure of departure is still departure.
- Cost — The sure and certain way to multiply sorrow is to turn from the Lord to any created resource; Israel's history proves it.
- Refusal — Drink offerings meant for wine and joy became blood and cruelty, and He would neither pour them out nor name the idols.
- Ours — A very small piece of this world can trap the heart, so the same refusal is asked of us: keep yourselves from idols.
Jehovah is the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup thou maintainest my lot.
The psalm's speaker has just turned away from those who run after other gods, and now He names what He does have. Everything He owns is one Person. The verse then asks whether God alone can be both a man's inheritance and the cup he drinks today.
Commentators hear these words first as the words of Christ, who owned nothing in this world.
He not only had no portion here, but He refused to accept one either from the destroyer (Luke 4:5-8) or from man (John 6:15). He could say in the language of Psalm 16:5, "The LORD is my chosen portion." His portion is in the place of resurrection — in the presence of God.
The verse names two different things. One lies ahead; the other we taste now, on the road.
The inheritance is the lasting portion of the believer, and we are going on toward it. The cup speaks of the experience we taste as we pass through the circumstances of life on the way to that inheritance. As the Lord passed through this world, He looked on to the joy set before Him. So He experienced the sustaining grace of Jehovah in all the circumstances of life, however trying and sorrowful.
One writer presses the difference between what a man owns and what he enjoys.
My portion is what belongs to me — what is mine, whether or not I enjoy it. My cup is what I take and make my own... Many a person in this world has a portion he cannot enjoy... With the Lord, indeed, His portion and His joy were one: Jehovah was the measure of both. He had nothing beside; He wanted nothing beside. These two things should be found, through grace, in the Christian also. For all of us it is true that God is the measure of our portion — we have no other. If only it were just as true that He was the measure of our cup!
Halfway through the verse the wording shifts from talking about God to talking to Him.
Here the soul of the saint is plainly in the presence of the One it loves, and the heart opens to its own blessedness. First I speak of Him and of what He is to me, and then I speak to Him and of what He does for me. He is my portion, my all... The "inheritance" of this verse and the "heritage" of the next are the future thing. The "cup" and the "lines" are the present thing.
God Himself holds the lot, so nothing can wear it away — while the world itself is passing.
"The world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever" (1 John 2:17, ESV). So here the voice of our blessed Forerunner: "You hold my lot." It is a sure and lasting possession that does not leave the heart in unrest... Yet it is the Son of God down here in a fallen world who says this: at the same time a man of sorrows because of what the world was.
Israel's tribe of Levi received no land of its own. God Himself was their inheritance.
The Lord was the true Levite. Jehovah was His portion, His inheritance, His cup, and He maintained His lot (Ps. 16:5). He found His all in God. He said, "All my springs are in you" (Ps. 87:7). How often we find our hearts elsewhere, and are cheated out of our true portion and what is "really life"... How often, through indulgence in even lawful things, we miss the enjoyment of "our own things."
Claiming the first half is easy. The second half shows what a believer really lives on.
But now comes what tests the heart a good bit deeper. How far can we each say, He is the portion of my cup? The cup is what we are tasting on the way to the inheritance; not exactly the circumstances of the way, but our experience in them. In the Psalm it is the path of Christ, of unparalleled trial.
One writer puts the same words straight into the believer's mouth, whatever the circumstances.
Why should anyone who has God's fullness complain that the world is empty? "The LORD is my chosen portion," says David. So let the lines fall where they will — in a sick bed, or a prison — and I will still say, "The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance."
- Portion — God Himself, not what He gives, is the whole estate. Christ refused every other offer of one.
- Cup — the portion you drink today. What you own but never taste is not yet your enjoyment.
- Lot — God holds it, so it cannot slip away; the heart rests while the world passes.
- Levi — the tribe with no land is the pattern: nothing on earth, everything in God, and "all my springs are in you."
- Test — most can call God their future inheritance. The harder question: is He the taste of today's cup, in a sick bed or a prison?
The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage.
Psalm 16 is the song of a man whose whole portion is the Lord Himself. Verse 6 is his verdict on that life, and it raises a hard question: how can such contented words belong to a life of sorrow?
The word points to a surveyor's cord. It marked the boundary of a plot of land.
The measuring line served to stake out an assigned plot of land (Micah 2:5; Psalm 16:5-6).
One group in Israel received no field at all. Their case explains the psalm. This writer also offers his own rendering of the words.
In the land itself the priests were to have no inheritance. Their inheritance was God only. So we may hear Christ's voice in the Psalms. The words should be read like this: "Jehovah is the measure of my portion and of my cup. You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; yes, my inheritance is fair to me." (Psalm 16:5-6.)
David wrote the psalm, but he is not big enough to carry it.
This is the first "Michtam" psalm — a golden psalm, shining because it points straight to the Lord Jesus. David wrote it, but God clearly inspired the words. David could not have understood everything in the psalm as applying to himself. The first verse might well apply to him, but not the second and third, nor the tenth. Acts 2:27 shows that the tenth verse applies directly to the Lord Jesus.
But His outward lot was anything but pleasant. The verse is not measuring circumstances.
As to circumstances, He was indeed the man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. But the Psalm does not speak of the circumstances. It speaks of the inner life lived inside them. He lived that life in the sweet enjoyment of the Father's love and support, and such experiences turned the roughest paths into "pleasant places."
This contentment is not a private feeling. It is where praise begins.
And having Jehovah as His portion He was completely satisfied. He lived in an unhappy, complaining, dissatisfied world, yet He was full of satisfaction. Men opposed and persecuted Him, and still He could speak of "a beautiful inheritance," and even of "pleasant places," and He turned in blessing and thanksgiving to Jehovah. Satisfaction must come before worship. The cup must be full to the brim before it can overflow.
If we ask what a pleasant place actually looked like in His life, the Gospels supply the scenes.
On the outside, we know that our Lord Jesus was "the Man of sorrows," the One well acquainted with grief. But inside, He had joy in carrying out what pleased His Father. Those were the pleasant places in that lonely pathway. Was not the well at Sychar a pleasant place to Him? There He could pour heaven's fullness into a poor, empty heart. There He could open up to that Samaritan woman the story of the Father seeking worshippers.
Commentators differ on the second half of the verse. Some read the inheritance as the Lord Himself. Others hear Him naming His own people as part of it.
Here the Lord speaks of how pleasant it is to be joined with the excellent of the earth. His people are a vital part of His inheritance (John 17:6). How marvellous that we are of such value to Him!
The test of the verse is whether an ordinary believer can repeat it about his own life.
Many a man is not satisfied with the portion that has fallen to him in this world. He envies his neighbour, who in his view has done better. Christ had His portion in the love of God, and so have we through grace, and nothing can separate us from it. It is indeed a beautiful inheritance.
- Lines — a measuring cord marks off a plot of land. The speaker is describing the portion handed to him in life.
- Portion — the priests were given no field, because the Lord Himself was their inheritance. Christ says the same of Himself here.
- Pleasant — the word is not about His outward lot, which was sorrow. It is about the inner life lived inside it, which turned rough paths into pleasant ones.
- Satisfied — the cup must be full before it can overflow. Satisfaction comes first, and worship follows.
- Beautiful — His inheritance includes His people, and by grace He shares His own portion, the love of God, with us.
I will bless Jehovah, who giveth me counsel; even in the nights my reins instruct me.
Psalm 16 is the song of a man with nothing of his own to fall back on. Commentators hear verse 7 both as the words of Christ, who lived in perfect dependence, and as a pattern for how God guides any believer.
Who is speaking here? One writer sets the two sides of Christ's person side by side.
We see more deeply how completely Christ has entered into Manhood when we hear Him say, "I will bless the LORD, who has given me counsel." The One who gives divine counsel as God — whose name is Wonderful and Counsellor — is the One who received counsel as Man. No man, in himself, has the wisdom to take the path of life in a world of sin. At every step, in the middle of the confusion of sin and self-will, we need divine counsel.
The verse has two halves, and they do not say the same thing twice. The LORD gives counsel; then something inside the man instructs him.
The Lord draws a distinction between the counsel of God and the instruction. He can say, "the LORD has given me counsel," but "My reins also instruct Me." The counsel speaks of all that God has purposed, made known in His word. To learn the counsel of God we need to have the opened ear to hear as learners… The reins speak of the secret thoughts that govern our practical lives. When God's counsel forms these thoughts, and frees them from every outside influence — as the quiet of the night hours suggests — we shall learn the path of life through this world.
The reins are "the kidneys," a picture of the guiding influences in our inward parts. The kidneys filter the blood to strain out any impurities from the system. The Lord Jesus not only depended completely on His God and Father for counsel and direction; the inward motives of His heart were also always right, and so they could be trusted. This should be true of Christians too, but sadly it is weak even in the most godly!
One writer treats these night hours as a practice most believers have lost.
The night hours brought their lessons too: when everything else had gone quiet, his own heart spoke, and what it worked through in him taught him a great deal. This is where saints fail so badly. They know so little of drawing apart in spirit into God's presence, where no eye sees but His. In silence and solitude, before the day broke with its calls and its claims, its clashes and its distractions, the psalmist had spent a time of meditation. In it God worked on his heart and conscience, and that work spread its sober, healthy effect over the day's activities.
The counsel here was a daily supply, and it reached Christ through Scripture.
How real His dependence was! He walked by the daily counsel of God, His ear awakened early to receive it. We remember how, when He was tempted in the wilderness, He applied to Himself the saying in Deuteronomy that "man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God." So He lived, just as we do; only in a perfection all His own. On the one hand there was the direct guidance of the word of God. On the other there were His own Spirit-led thoughts, the fruit of that Word taken in and digested, and these shaped all His practical life.
Blessing God for counsel assumes you asked for it first. Reverse that order, and the praise of this verse is out of reach.
If we have chosen our own path, we shall find distance from God and sorrow, and we shall not be able to "bless the Lord" in the sense of this verse. The verse describes a harvest that springs up with joy, because we have walked in the counsels of the LORD. We are often so wilful, so hasty, and so careless. We do the thing we needed direction for first, and ask for counsel afterwards. Then we cannot "bless the Lord, who has given us counsel," though we may have to bless Him instead for rescuing us from the folly of our own ways.
- Counsel given. The One whose name is Wonderful Counsellor took the place of a Man who receives counsel. That is the pattern of dependence for everyone on this path.
- Counsel learned. God's counsel reaches us through His word; it needs the opened ear of a learner, not an occasional glance in a crisis.
- Counsel digested. The "reins" are the kidneys — a picture of the inward thoughts that filter and steer a life. In Christ every motive was pure and could be trusted.
- Counsel in the dark. Night removes the noise. The heart's work before God then steadies the whole day that follows.
- Counsel blessed. Ask first and you can bless God for the harvest; act first and at best you bless Him for rescuing you from your own folly.
I have set Jehovah continually before me; because [he is] at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Therefore my heart rejoiceth, and my glory exulteth; my flesh moreover shall dwell in hope.
Psalm 16 traces one unbroken confidence in God, and verse 9 is where that confidence meets death. So whose voice is this — David's, or Someone greater whose body would go into a grave and come out again?
The gladness here did not arrive on its own. It follows the obedience described just before it. A word on the wording: the ESV's "my whole being" is "my glory" in older translations, and its "my flesh also dwells secure" is "my flesh also shall rest in hope." The quotes below use that older wording.
Christ's constant dependence and unswerving obedience had a result. His heart was glad in a world where He was a "man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." And His glory (that is, His tongue) did rejoice. There is something very beautiful here: the Hebrew word for "glory" also means "tongue." So it was with Christ. His tongue was His glory, and it rejoiced, because He used it only for the glory of His Father and God. Our tongues, sadly, are often our shame.
Notice what the verse does not say. It reports the state of a heart, not the state of a situation.
This perfect life has its joy and gladness. But it is not like the joy of this world, which depends on outward circumstances. The Lord says, "My heart is glad" — not necessarily, My circumstances are bright. The joy is in the heart, just as David can say, "You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound" (Ps. 4:7). The world's joy is in prosperous circumstances, the grain and the wine.
One writer takes the parts in turn: the heart, the flesh, and then the soul.
The blessed One who walked in perfect confidence in Jehovah has unshaken confidence in view of death. He must pass through death to reach the "right hand," if He would open the path of life for us. His heart — the seat of affection — was "glad," and, what set Him apart from all others, it "rejoiced." His flesh belonged to His condition as man, and it "rested in hope" in view of resurrection. His soul would not be left in, or to, Sheol — the place of departed spirits. Hell (or Sheol) here, in this psalm, is not the place of torment, but simply the unseen.
The confidence in this psalm runs on past death. That is why commentators say David could not be describing himself.
The same psalm gives the clearest proof about the Messiah, and no Jew could doubt that the Messiah was in question there. He would be marked by the most absolute trust in God through all His life. He was to lay down His life with trust in God just as unbroken and perfect in death as in life. And last, He would stand in resurrection. It is therefore the psalm of confidence in God that goes right through life, death, resurrection. It was seen in Jesus, and clearly not applicable to David who wrote it.
The hope in His flesh was not just that He would live again. His rising says something about His work — and about everyone He stands for.
So resurrection is His justification from God, the seal placed on His completed work. It is therefore the justification of all for whom He stands — of all who through grace believe in Him. By identifying Himself with them, He comes for the moment into the place of weakness, depending simply on the arm of Another for deliverance.
The "Holy One" of this psalm is Christ. Yet what He knew is not sealed off from those who belong to Him.
Christ is indeed the "Holy One." But believers are "holy and beloved," and as such they can know the blessedness of the life of Christ as man. They too can look ahead with confidence, knowing that God will not leave the soul in death nor the body in corruption.
At a graveside that confidence takes a very plain shape.
Hope is the believer's covering. He wraps it around himself when he lays his body down to sleep in the grave. "My flesh," says David, "shall rest in hope" (Ps. 16:9). Anyone with no hope of a resurrection to life goes sadly to that bed.
- Cause. The gladness starts with "therefore." It is the fruit of a life of unbroken dependence and obedience.
- Threefold. Heart, glory and flesh — affection, speech and body. The Hebrew word for "glory" also means "tongue."
- Joy. The heart is glad even when circumstances are not bright. This joy does not run on grain and wine.
- Death. The flesh rests in hope: God will not leave the soul in death, nor the body in decay.
- Result. Resurrection is God's seal on His finished work. So it justifies everyone who believes — and the believer can lay his own body down in hope.
For thou wilt not leave my soul to Sheol, neither wilt thou allow thy Holy One to see corruption.
David wrote this line. Yet the first preachers of the gospel said he could not be describing himself. So the verse raises two questions: who is speaking, and what happens to a body in the grave?
Peter used this psalm in his sermon at Pentecost. He tested it against facts everyone in Jerusalem knew.
Was David writing about himself? Impossible. He had died and was buried, and his tomb was among them, still holding his dust. And everyone fully agreed that he, the first of his royal line, had not risen from the dead. Yet he wrote about One who would die and soon afterwards be raised. This is because God would not leave that One's soul in Hades (the place of spirits who have left the body), and would not let His body see corruption.
Trust runs through the whole psalm, and this line is where that trust meets death.
The same psalm gives the clearest proof that the Messiah would show the most complete trust in God all through His life. He was to lay down His life with trust in God just as unbroken and perfect in death as in life. And He would stand in resurrection. So it is the psalm of confidence in God. That confidence runs right through life, death, and resurrection.
Sheol is the Hebrew word for the place of the dead. Some argue the wording says less than older translations suggested. The point is not that He was left in that place. It is that He was never handed over to it.
We never find Sheol or Hades linked with joy or blessing, the way paradise is. In line with that, Psalm 16:10 teaches that Jehovah would not leave Messiah's soul to Hades, any more than His body to see corruption. The idea of "leaving in" does not seem to fit either the Hebrew or the Greek in the correct text. Early superstition made much of that error.
Commentators differ here. One of them left the question open.
Is it quite certain that "You will not abandon my soul to Sheol" refers to the resurrection? … Christ went where we go when we die, like the thief on the cross. The word is Lo-taazov ("You will not forsake"). This may well mean that He went there and left it at once. But it might mean that He would not have His place there, even if others had. The resurrection is quite enough to account for the words. The only question is whether that is the true explanation.
Paul used this line too, and its second half is about the body.
Paul then quotes Psalm 16:10: "You will not let your Holy One see corruption." This is striking. It points to nothing less than resurrection before decay could set in. David wrote this, but after he had served God's will in his own generation, he died and saw corruption. Again, it was David's son of whom he had spoken, the One whom God raised from the dead and who saw no corruption.
Others use this same title of Jesus — before His birth, during His ministry, and after His resurrection.
He Himself was the Holy One. "That holy thing which will be born of you will be called the Son of God," the angel said to Mary (Luke 1:35). The very demons in Capernaum said to Him, "I know who you are: the Holy One of God." And what charge did Peter lay against the Jews after Pentecost? "You denied the Holy One." And when Peter spoke of the resurrection of Jesus (Acts 2:27), he quoted Psalm 16:10: "Neither will you let your Holy One see corruption."
He went into death trusting the Father, and His rising carries a verdict with it.
He took on the burden of sin and laid down His life. He committed Himself in peace into the Father's hand, to take back again the life He had laid down. The language of the sixteenth psalm expresses this confidence… So resurrection is His justification from God, the seal placed on His completed work. It is therefore the justification of all for whom He stands — of all who through grace believe in Him.
The title "Holy One" belongs to Christ alone. But the confidence in this verse is not shut off from those who trust Him.
Christ is indeed the "Holy One." But believers are "holy and beloved," and as such can know the blessedness of the life of Christ as man. They too can look ahead with confidence. They know that God will not leave the soul in death or the body in corruption.
- Not David. His grave was still in Jerusalem, holding his dust. So the psalm speaks of Someone else, who would die and soon rise.
- Not shaken. His trust held firm in death. This is the psalm of confidence running through life, death, and resurrection.
- Not abandoned. God did not hand His soul over to Sheol. Commentators differ on how far the wording presses, but all read resurrection in it.
- Not decayed. God raised Him before corruption could begin. His was the one death that left no trace of decay.
- Not alone. His rising is the seal on His finished work. It is the justification of everyone who believes. They too can face death expecting God to bring them out of it.
Thou wilt make known to me the path of life thy countenance is fulness of joy; at thy right hand are pleasures for evermore.
A man facing death speaks the closing verse of Psalm 16. Yet he speaks of life, joy and pleasure beyond death. The apostles later used his words as proof that Christ rose. That raises the two questions this verse keeps putting to readers: whose path is this, and where does it end?
Peter and Paul both quoted this psalm in public preaching. Their argument rested on one point: David himself died and stayed dead. So the words had to belong to someone else.
David clearly foretold the resurrection of Christ in Psalm 16. Peter quoted the psalm on the day of Pentecost, and Paul quoted it at Antioch, to prove that Scripture was fulfilled when He rose from the dead. They argued that David did not speak of himself. He was a prophet, yet he was buried and his body decayed. The One God raised saw no corruption. In death His soul was not left in hades, the place of the dead, and His body did not decay. He entered resurrection, the path of life, and went up to the right hand of God.
The route to this joy was not around the grave but straight through it. That is why the verse comes straight after words about the soul not being left in death.
The path of life, walked by the Lord, led through death. This is not death as making atonement for His people. It shows the blessedness of a life that death cannot touch. It is the path of life through death. Here the prospect of death raises no cloud on His spirit. He is not cast down at the thought of death. His heart is glad and His tongue rejoices, for His flesh will rest in hope. For the one walking the path of life, death is only a means to the fuller enjoyment of the life.
Notice who does the showing. The speaker does not announce what He will do; He waits to be shown. Commentators point to that wording as the mark of a man leaning wholly on God.
There is not a step of the path of life that He has not walked. He has marked out the path of divine life right up to blessing… "You will show me the path of life." How dependent for everything! He does not say, "I will rise up," but "You will show me." He passed through death in dependence on His Father. Here was the blessed perfection of a man with God… He could go back to the throne of God without a stain, and take man back with Him into the glory He came from. There is manhood now in the presence of God.
Because He went first, the path is no longer His alone. Writers describe Him as making a road where there was none.
In this place of death He opens a path for us. His Father and God shows Him the "path of life." He was the life, but He had to track the path of life through this place of death, where nothing speaks of God — a wide wasteland with no road through it. Christ has tracked the path Himself… He had to open the path of life through a world of sin and misery, in obedience, all the way up to God. It must be through death for us, because we are sinners. Now He says to us, "If anyone serves Me, he must follow Me."
The joy is not something handed out in God's presence; the presence is the joy. And what satisfied Christ's hope becomes the measure of ours.
We are in God's presence, where fullness of joy is. Where God's presence shows itself, it fills everything and shuts out all that is against it. It is bound to make us completely and perfectly happy. It was enough for Christ's hope, and He knew that presence best of all — so it is enough for ours.
Some of that joy is tasted now, and some waits.
In His presence, even here on earth, our fullest joy is found, and the fullness itself awaits us, and is surely very near at hand!
The last phrase names both a place and a length of time. Commentators press the word "evermore": it answers every fear that good things end.
"Your right hand" — the place of dignity, power and special privilege. "Fullness of joy" — nothing lacking. "Pleasures for evermore." This is not only the place of honour and joy. It is our everlasting place — "for evermore." Nothing lesser is mixed in, and there is no fear that these pleasures will ever end.
- Path — the way to fullness of joy runs through death, not around it; Christ walked it first and made it out for us.
- Proof — Peter and Paul quoted this psalm to show David spoke not of himself but of the One who saw no corruption.
- Posture — "You will show me," not "I will rise up": He walked the whole path in dependence on God.
- Presence — God's presence fills everything and shuts out all that is against it, and there joy is full.
- Permanence — the right hand is a place of honour, and "evermore" means these pleasures have no end.
(A Prayer of David.) Hear the right, O Jehovah, attend unto my cry; give ear unto my prayer, which is not out of feigned lips.
Psalm 17 opens with a man asking God to hear a case, not to excuse a failure. He asks God to weigh his cause, and he prays with lips that hide nothing. So who can pray like this? And what about the rest of us, who know our own words are not always clean?
The plea belongs to daily life among people who oppose what is right. It leaves God to settle the score, not the man who was wronged.
Psalm 17 looks at this life in practice, here below, and at its difficulties with man opposed to what is right. The soul still depends entirely on God. But as to its integrity towards God, and over against man, it can plead righteousness. Still it does not avenge itself. It casts itself entirely on God, and so gets the fruits of His righteous dealings. Not avenging self is a great secret of practical wisdom. It is the patience of the new life in the middle of evil, looking to God and leaving everything to Him. And if we have not walked uprightly, confidence in God is still our true place. He spares and restores in mercy most graciously. Other psalms take that up, but it is not the subject of this psalm.
Older translations read "lips that are not feigned" — lips with nothing put on. The plea covers more than clean speech: nothing hidden inside contradicts what the mouth says.
This is the cry of One who can ask God to hear Him because of His perfect integrity. Only Christ could take such ground in an absolute way. His words came from lips with no pretence. Everything in Him was equal, or right, under the searching eye of God. God proved His heart, and it only showed that His secret thoughts never went beyond His words. He did not say one thing and think another.
The heading names David, yet the words reach past him.
This psalm is called "a prayer of David." But it cannot be true of David himself — only of the Son of David, the Lord Jesus. So here the King is the great Representative of His people. As such, God will fully answer His prayer, because it rests on the perfection of His own character.
Psalm 16 and Psalm 17 belong together. The first is at home with God; this one is out in the world.
These two psalms present the experiences of the Lord very differently. In Psalm 16 He enters into all the present joy of living in God's house. He is a priest or worshipper who felt that his lines had fallen in pleasant places, because he was inside the house with God. In Psalm 17 He is outside in the trial of the world. He meets the opposition of men, seeks help and deliverance, and looks only to future things as His joy.
The words are not shut off from ordinary people. What lets a believer take them up is not his own record but a righteousness God credits to him.
Something in the inner self of every child of God agrees, in principle and desire, with the language of these verses. Yet only Christ could take them on His lips in their strict and full meaning. The knowledge of imputed righteousness lets the believer use the first two verses of this passage in the sweet yet solemn assurance of justification by faith. Through grace he is conscious of his true standing in Christ.
A clear conscience is real, and it is a real support. But it is not the ground a Christian stands on before God, and this psalm does not supply that ground.
Psalms 16 and 17 give us two great principles of divine life — trust, and righteousness or integrity. We find them running all through the Psalms, and through the life of any godly person, as well as that of the Jew. But this does not fully give the foundation on which we stand according to the New Testament. You do not find in Psalm 17 the foundation of God's righteousness at this time. Some souls have divine life but do not know their standing in divine righteousness. They find the Psalms fit to express their experience. Trust in God and a sense of integrity can both be there without peace with God. Job trusted God, yet pleaded his own righteousness against Him. The soul cannot be at peace in that state. Job was wrong in making a righteousness of his integrity.
- Right — The opening plea does not ask God to excuse a fault. It asks Him to hear a just cause, and to settle it Himself instead of the sufferer taking revenge.
- Lips — Prayer free of deceit means the hidden thoughts match the spoken words. God searches the heart and finds nothing behind the speech that contradicts it.
- Christ — Only the Son of David could take that ground absolutely. So the psalm is His prayer, offered as Representative of His people, and God will answer it in full.
- Outside — Psalm 16 is life inside God's house. Psalm 17 is the same life outdoors, under opposition, asking for rescue rather than revenge.
- Standing — A believer joins this prayer through imputed righteousness, not through his own record. A clear conscience steadies the soul, but it is not the ground he stands on. And when he has failed, confidence in God is still his true place.
Let my judgment come forth from thy presence, let thine eyes regard equity.
Surrounded by enemies, a man asks God to rule on his case and to let the verdict come from His own presence. Older versions word the plea, "let my sentence come forth from Your presence" — which raises two questions: who can pray it, and what happens when someone makes it a test of himself?
This plea takes the case away from every human court, including the one where a man judges himself. One writer sets it against our inability to weigh ourselves:
A fallen creature, with a deceitful heart and a sinful nature, cannot judge what he is in the sight of God. But the prayer of the upright is, "Let my sentence come forth from Your presence," and the language of faith is, "Let God be true though every one were a liar." (Ps. 17:2; Rom. 3:4.)
The second half of the verse asks God's eyes to behold what is right. Older versions read "the things that are equal" — what is even and balanced. One writer links that evenness to the grain offering of fine flour, and to Christ:
In Psalm 17, He says, "Let Your eyes behold the things that are equal." The fine flour of the grain offering expressed the equality of the perfections of Jesus. Where all was perfect, and goodness Itself was perfectly consistent, what one grace could stand out above the rest? He says in spirit, "You have tried me, and will find nothing" — nothing that was not from God and for God.
In their full strength these words belong to Christ. Yet the believer is not shut out of them. One writer explains the ground on which an ordinary Christian may pray them — a righteousness credited to him, not produced by him:
There is something in the inner man of every child of God that agrees, in principle and desire, with the language of these verses. Yet in their strict and full sense, Christ alone could speak them. The knowledge of imputed righteousness lets the believer, who by grace is aware of his true standing in Christ, use the first two verses of this passage with the sweet yet solemn assurance of justification by faith.
Some read the verse as a description of the inner experience they must produce before they can have peace. That search fails:
Many are looking for the same marks in themselves, the same features of experience the Psalms describe, and then judging themselves by that standard. For instance… "Let my sentence come forth from Your presence; let Your eyes behold the things that are equal. You have tested my heart… You have tried me, and will find nothing." Now, since imperfection is certain to appear in our ways and inward feelings, these feelings can never be the settled ground of peace in the presence of God.
The psalm is prayed in the middle of a conflict with people who oppose what is right. Asking God for the verdict takes the place of paying them back:
Psalm 17 looks at this life here below, and at its difficulties with people who oppose what is right… as to integrity towards God, and over against man, the soul can plead righteousness. Still it does not avenge itself. It casts itself wholly on God, and so receives the fruits of His righteous dealings. This is a great secret of practical wisdom — not avenging self.
The psalm answers this plea at its close. The request for a verdict ends in the sight of God's face:
Psalm 17 is the dispute with man along the path: "Let my sentence come forth from Your presence." And the end is, "I shall behold Your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with Your likeness."
That sight rests on a righteousness the psalmist did not produce himself:
In Psalm 16 we see the Righteous One — righteous in Himself. In Psalm 17 we find a believer who can stand before God in righteousness — not righteousness of his own, but righteousness put to his account: he stands before God in the righteousness of Another.
- Presence — Ask for the verdict from one place only — God's presence. No human court can settle it, not even your own opinion of yourself.
- Perfection — The verse asks God's eyes to find everything even and balanced. Only Christ met that test; when God tried His heart, He found nothing that was not for God.
- Imputed — The believer prays the verse in the righteousness of Another, not by matching that perfection. Peace never rests on our own inward feelings.
- Patience — Since God will rule on the case, the sufferer does not avenge himself. Leaving the controversy with God is the psalm's practical wisdom.
- Prospect — The psalm settles this appeal at its close. The psalmist will see God's face in righteousness and wake satisfied with His likeness.
Thou hast proved my heart, thou hast visited me by night; thou hast tried me, thou hast found nothing my thought goeth not beyond my word.
A man opens his inner life to God and says the search will turn up nothing. It is a bold claim. Commentators say only one Man could ever make it and mean it in full.
Who could honestly speak like this? Writers on the Psalms mark the difference between sharing the desire behind the words and owning them.
Something in the inner man of every child of God agrees, in principle and desire, with the language of these verses. Yet in their strict and full meaning, only Christ could take them into His mouth... Verse 3 gives voice to holy confidence under the pure, heart-seeing eye of God. That tone does find its response, more or less clearly, from the soul whose way of life is marked by simplicity and godly sincerity.
The testing here comes at a chosen hour. One writer reads "by night" as the moment when a person is least guarded. He also asks why God would test someone He already knows.
God had tested His heart (v. 3) throughout His entire life on earth. God did not need the test to prove the perfection of His Son. He carried it out for our sakes, to prove to us who the Lord Jesus is — the One totally free from sin. God visited Him "in the night," the time of greatest vulnerability. But God found Him not in the least vulnerable. He found nothing even of a questionable nature. For He had purposed that His mouth would not transgress. Words are a striking sign of what the heart is. "If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body" (James 3:2). This was true in full only of the Lord Jesus.
Two searchers looked into that heart, and both came away empty-handed. That result is more than praise for Christ. It is what makes His death for our sins effective.
I do not say there was any sin or failure in Him; to say that would be blasphemy. But suppose there had been even a little of what Scripture calls the mind of the flesh, or indwelling sin. It would have tainted the offering for sin beyond repair. It would also have blunted that heart of holy love from its sympathies with us... But there was absolutely none... not merely no acts, but no root, of evil. Satan found nothing in Him (John 14:30), nor did God (Psalm 17:3). Therefore He could die effectively for our sins and for sin.
The Passover lamb was roasted, not boiled. One commentator reads that fire as the same test this verse describes.
In this we see "Christ our Passover" presenting Himself to the fire of divine holiness and judgment. That fire found in Him a perfect material... All in Him was perfect. The fire tried Him and there was no dross. "His head with his legs, and with the inner parts." That is to say, the seat of His understanding, and His outward walk with everything belonging to it. All of it went into the fire, and all was perfect.
The verse ends with a decision, not an achievement. The speaker has settled in advance what his mouth will do. One writer asks what such a purpose aims at, and how far we can share it.
His one great object was to meet His Father's mind and to do His Father's will. It was also to mark out a path for us, so that we might walk in His steps. Here God proves the heart, and here the value of the word appears... This could be fully true of Christ alone. It is true of us only so far as we live the life of Christ. Still, we should be able to appeal to God about the purpose of our hearts and the desire of our lives.
Many readers use verses like this as a mirror. They measure their own inner life against it and lose their footing. One writer warns against that use of the Psalms.
Suppose we try to establish our security before God by working up the experience the Psalms describe. Then we must say, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." No soul could get solid peace... Imperfection is sure to appear in our ways and inward feelings. So these feelings can never form the stable ground of peace in the presence of God. Our joy is full only when we see that every claim of God's holiness has been met and perfectly answered by Jesus. When God tested His inmost being and His heart, He found nothing in Jesus that did not perfectly suit His holiness.
- Tested — God searched the heart at night, the hour of greatest weakness. He ran the test for our sake, not because He needed to learn anything.
- Nothing found — Satan searched and found nothing; God searched and found nothing. No acts of evil, and no root of it either.
- No dross — like the roasted lamb, His understanding and His daily walk went into the fire. Both came out perfect.
- Purposed — the words are a settled decision, not a boast. Only Christ kept it in full. Still, we can appeal to God about the purpose of our hearts.
- Peace — God found nothing in Him. So our peace rests on His perfection, never on our own inner feelings.
Concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips I have kept from the paths of the violent [man].
Psalm 17 is David's appeal to God, who has already tested him. In verse 4 he says what kept him clean among "the works of man." What keeps a person off the violent man's path — good character, or something outside himself?
One writer notes that the speaker sorts none of it. Every human work gets one name. (Older translations render "the violent" as "the destroyer.")
Around Him there was only contradiction to all this: "the works of men" He puts all together, making no distinction, giving them no other name but that. "With regard to the works of man, by the word of your lips I have avoided the ways of the violent" — the breaker forth: that is the character of men at large. God's word, God's will, they persistently break through. Sadly, there is nowhere a timid woman, nowhere a child of a few years, who could not be described this way.
The guard here is not a good instinct but a word from God. The same writer notes who else needed it.
Notice how clearly He affirms the word of God to be His guide and guard. If a perfect moral nature were enough, He surely had that — "holy" from His very birth. If anyone could be thought above the need of a "book" to guide him, here was One. Yet how perfectly He held to the "word of Your lips," and upheld it at all times! How great our need of it, then! How completely we should submit to it! "The word of Your lips" — the very utterance of God Himself!
One writer says the words of verse 4 are fully true of only one Person.
This could only be absolutely true of Christ, and only true of us so far as we live the life of Christ. Even so, we should be able to appeal to God about the purpose of our hearts and the desire of our lives.
Another writer points to how Christ answered Satan in the desert. He then reads verse 5, which older translations render as a prayer.
When Satan tempted Him, He had not the slightest inclination to give in to such temptation, but in each case answered Satan with the word of God. But alongside this purpose of dependence on the word of God is His expression of dependence in His prayer, "Uphold my steps in Your paths, that my footsteps may not slip." Would His footsteps slip? Absolutely not! But His prayer is an example for us, for our footsteps are in danger of slipping.
How does a word keep a person? One writer answers with a single habit, and shows how little the enemy's changing tactics achieve.
The spirit of obedience is the great moral safeguard against every scheme and every snare of the enemy. The enemy may shift his ground. He may change his tactics. He may work through someone new. But obedience to the plain and simple Word of God keeps the soul safe from all his wicked schemes and crafty tricks. The devil can do nothing with a man who is completely ruled by the Word of God and refuses to move a hair's breadth without divine authority.
This also settles how much of evil a believer needs to study.
Human wisdom seeks to guard itself by a thorough knowledge of the world and of all evil ways. The wisdom that comes from above does not need to get to know evil to escape it… Sheep follow the Shepherd because they know His voice. They escape the stranger, not because they know his evil teaching, but because they do not know his voice. If we know God's path for His people, we need not turn aside to learn the evil of every side path of the destroyer. How many have lost their way trying to investigate some side path they knew to be evil.
Psalm 16 and Psalm 17 sound different. The difference lies in who is speaking.
In Psalm 16 we have One who always set the Lord before Him. Because the Lord was at His right hand, He could say with confidence, "I shall not be moved." In Psalm 17 the saint speaks very differently. If he were to say, "I shall not be moved," he would be greatly mistaken, and would soon have to take his words back.
- The problem. "The works of man" are one group, not a scale. Pushing through God's will is the ordinary human character — in the mildest person as much as the worst.
- The guard. What keeps a person is not a good nature but "the word of Your lips" — God's own utterance, needed even by the sinless One.
- The pattern. Only Christ could say this fully; He met Satan with Scripture, and the words are ours as far as we live His life.
- The method. Obedience, not cleverness. The enemy gets no grip on a person ruled by God's Word. And if you know God's path, you need not explore the destroyer's side paths.
- The prayer. In Psalm 16 Christ can say He will not be moved. In Psalm 17 the saint asks God to hold him up. The kept walk is a dependent walk.
When thou holdest my goings in thy paths, my footsteps slip not.
The line can be read two ways, and the commentators quoted here work mainly from the older rendering that turns it into a request: "Hold up my goings in Your paths, that my footsteps slip not" — a reading F. B. Hole flags as the margin. Read that way, the verse asks who is speaking, and why a man walking in God's paths still needs to be held there.
The psalm before this one ends in settled confidence; this one is spoken from lower ground. Hole sets the two side by side and shows why the words of verse 5 fit a man surrounded by evil rather than a man untouched by it.
Quite a different atmosphere fills Psalm 17. The lovely picture of perfection that delighted us in Psalm 16 is not here; instead we have a picture of a saint in the middle of evil, struggling against it and oppressed by it, yet finding his resource in God, counting on Him, and being sustained so that in some measure he shows the same likeness as his Lord. In Psalm 16 we have One who set Jehovah always before Him; so He was at His right hand and He could confidently say, "I shall not be moved." In Psalm 17 the saint speaks very differently. If he were to say, "I shall not be moved," he would be greatly mistaken, and before long would have to take his words back.
Verse 4 has just described a man kept from the destroyer's paths by God's word. The prayer of verse 5 follows from that, and one writer explains why moving forward in God's ways makes a person more aware of his own frailty, not less.
Nothing can protect a Christian from the schemes of the enemy except regular submission to the Scriptures. Perfection in the man of God is attached, as a conditional result, to his faithful keeping of the inspired word (2 Tim. 3:16-17). But the smallest step forward in this practical sanctification shows the soul, far more clearly than before, its own inherent weakness. Hence the language of verse 5: "Hold up my goings in Your paths."
Several writers hear Christ speaking here, and they take the request as evidence of the place He took as a man. Darby traces the whole path of verses 3 to 5 in Him and names dependence as part of what righteousness means for a man.
As regards the works of men — for He walked as a man in this world — the word was His absolute rule. By it He kept Himself from the paths of the destroyer. But there is no pride, only entire dependence on Jehovah in the right path. "Hold up my goings in Your paths, that my footsteps slip not." Such was the practical life of Christ in this world.
That raises an obvious question about a sinless man praying not to slip, and L. M. Grant answers it directly.
He lived among "the works of men" (v. 4), surrounded by every kind of evil work, yet they did not influence Him in the least, because it was His constant habit to live by the word of God's lips. This kept Him from the paths of the destroyer. Along with this purpose to depend on the word of God, He expressed His dependence in prayer: "Uphold my steps in Your paths, that my footsteps may not slip." Would His footsteps slip? Absolutely not! But His prayer is an example for us, for our footsteps are in danger of slipping.
The keeping of verse 4 and the holding of verse 5 are not separate operations. J. T. Mawson shows how the enemy's skill makes both necessary, and where the needed word comes from.
The devil has made a careful study of every one of us; he knows our tendencies and our weaknesses well, and he is full of schemes and lays his traps with great skill. We are no match for him; if we meet him in our own wisdom and strength we are sure to be trapped… He knows every trap the devil can set for our feet, and He knows how to minister His own word to us, the right word at the right time, so that we may be able to say, "By the words of Your lips I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer. Hold up my goings in Your paths, that my footsteps slip not."
If the prayer admits weakness, it also implies a supply. Pridham names the alternative if that supply fails, and the source of renewal.
If spiritual energy does not prevail, its opponent is flesh; and the carnal will is sin. Weakness, however, is the natural quality chiefly noticed here… Yet our weakness, though not sin itself, is born of sin; and so it is in the grace of Jesus Christ alone that the fainting spirit finds its strength renewed.
The request looks ahead to the whole distance still to be walked. Hamilton Smith attaches to it a prayer of Beza that turns the verse into a plea about the end of the road.
"Lord, hold me up that I may hold out. You have set the crown at the end of the race; let me run the race, that I may wear the crown" — it was Beza's prayer, and let it be ours: "Lord, complete what You have begun in me, that I may not be shipwrecked when I am almost at the harbour."
- Held, not holding. The saint here cannot say "I shall not be moved" without being corrected; he can only ask to be held up.
- Held by the word. The one who is kept from the destroyer's paths is the one who habitually submits to the Scriptures.
- Held in weakness. Every real step forward shows more of your own weakness, and that weakness finds its renewal only in the grace of Jesus Christ.
- Held as He was. Christ prayed this prayer of dependence though His feet could never slip — leaving the pattern for feet that can.
- Held to the end. The prayer's aim is the finish: not shipwrecked within sight of the harbour.
I have called upon thee, for thou answerest me, O God. Incline thine ear unto me, hear my speech.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Shew wondrously thy loving-kindnesses, O thou that savest by thy right hand them that trust [in thee] from those that rise up [against them].
Psalm 17 is the prayer of a man surrounded by enemies. In verse 7 he turns from his own path to appeal to what God is like — and two questions follow: what makes this kindness "marvellous," and why does the prayer widen from "me" to all who seek refuge?
The verse belongs to a path walked in a hostile world. The one walking it draws all he needs from God.
Moving to the next psalm, we see "Christ in the path of righteousness in the middle of an evil world." In this path Christ found all His resources in God — in His word, in His strength, in His loving-kindness, and in His protection. What a lesson for His people as they also pass through an evil scene, with their lot cast in perilous times!
The psalm describes these enemies later, and their outlook explains the pressure the godly feel.
In Psalm 17 David prays that the Lord would deliver his soul from the wicked — from the men of the world "whose portion is in this life," whose stomachs God had filled with hidden treasure (verses 13–14). The man of the world then was like the man of the world today. His thoughts were only about the present. To all appearances he was prospering, with everything the natural heart could want. Such men also opposed the godly, but the godly had their resource in God. The confidence of the man of the world was in his possessions, but the confidence of the man of God was in the LORD.
ESV asks God to show His love "wondrously"; older translations read "marvellous loving-kindness," and that is the wording these writers use. The word marks out a mercy asked for people with no claim of their own.
Yet it is an appeal to "marvellous loving-kindness" because of those He makes it for, as if He made it only for Himself. It is a prayer for sinners who "take refuge" in the mercy as well as the might of God. They come not only in weakness, but knowing they are unworthy. He does not join Himself to them so as to say, "Keep us." He identifies Himself with them, so that He can say, "Keep Me" — they are covered with the perfection of His beauty, and God acts toward them as toward Himself.
Verse 7 is where the psalm opens outward. Commentators read the speaker as Christ, praying for those who trust God, and they point to the shift into "us" a few verses later as proof.
It is a marvellous prayer for His own, with whom He so perfectly identifies Himself. The seventh verse is the key. He pleads for His beloved saints, that they may be kept as the apple of the eye and hidden under the shadow of His wings. He speaks as if for Himself, but it is for the saints, those who trust God, and God hears Him and answers. The enemy threatens His people on earth, and so we find the plural in verse 11, "they have now surrounded our steps."
God is addressed here by what He does: He saves those who take refuge in Him. That description sets both the ground and the amount of what is received.
He does not only consider Himself in this confidence of faith, but all who put their trust in God. They too will experience God's loving-kindness, in the measure in which they trust Him. Of course the measure of the Lord Jesus was perfect in its fullness, far above ours. But the salvation here is deliverance from those who rise up against them. Satan has many forces that seek to harm believers. So the Lord Jesus thinks of all His own, and wants them delivered too from the power of the enemy.
The saving power named in the verse is real, but the psalm does not promise that opposition collapses at once.
Jesus prayed to the LORD as one who was oppressed, entrusting Himself, while doing good, to Him who judges righteously (1 Peter 2:23). The calling of the suffering people of Christ is to suffer. Their blessing is to know the delivering power of God's right hand from every form of evil, even though the adversary seems to triumph for a while (2 Cor. 1:10). In Christ, God reveals Himself to us as a God of salvations. By His gracious obedience to death, the Son of God commends to our souls the truth and power of the LORD as a Saviour.
- Pressure — The prayer rises from a man hemmed in by people whose whole portion is in this life. His one resource is God.
- Refuge — The kindness is "marvellous" because it goes to people who come knowing they are unworthy, sheltering in God's mercy as much as in His might.
- Right hand — The verse names God by what He does: He saves those who seek refuge in Him, even while the enemy appears to win for a time.
- Reach — Verse 7 widens the prayer from one sufferer to all who trust, and by verse 11 the psalm speaks of "our steps."
- Measure — In Christ that trust was perfect and full; His own know God's loving-kindness in the measure in which they trust Him.
Keep me as the apple of the eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings,
Psalm 17 is the prayer of a man surrounded by enemies who want him dead. In verse 8 he asks for God's care with two everyday pictures — an eye and a bird's wing — and both say one thing: what is most precious is what is most guarded.
The Hebrew behind "apple of the eye" is not about fruit at all. It points to the pupil, and the word itself carries a picture:
Gesenius says this word means "little man," and then "the little man of the eye." That is the pupil. In it a person sees his own image reflected in miniature, as in a mirror. It is the part of the eye that needs special guarding: God preserved His own as the apple of His eye (Deut. 32:10; Ps. 17:8). His law should be kept as a precious thing (Prov. 7:2).
The body guards the eye without stopping to think:
There is nothing in the human body so guarded as the eye. The eyelid guards it in a wonderful way. When the miner strikes the coal with his pick, the dust flies. The lid closes instantly on that most sensitive part. God kept His people as the apple of His eye. Think how precious such a statement is. It was good for Israel. It is good for you and me.
One writer reads the prayer as Christ's own, and the reflection as what God sees in Him:
"Keep Me as the reflection in the eye." The word means "the little man," the human figure, "the daughter" or product "of the eye." It is the image of Himself that God sees in the eyes of His beloved Son, who always keeps Him in view. Will He not preserve that?
The second half of the verse turns to a bird. The Hebrew word means a wing, and the psalms use it the same way again and again:
It means wing, which is often used figuratively for shelter or protection, such as a bird gives to its young (Ps. 36:7; Ps. 57:1; Ps. 91:4).
The same picture does different work in different psalms:
In Psalm 57 the "shadow of Your wings" is the source of power. In Psalm 17 it is the place of escape and protection (vv. 7-9). In Psalm 36:7-9 it is the place of approach and satisfaction. In Psalm 63:3-7 it is the place of worship, praise, and joy.
One writer draws a line between two kinds of hiding place:
One of the first and most necessary lessons the Spirit teaches a renewed soul is to find shelter in God. This is not shelter from God, however necessary that is when we think of Him as judge. It is shelter with Him, because the blood has settled the question of our sins. This produces complete confidence in God, surrounded as we are by deadly and deceitful enemies.
Earlier in the psalm he describes a life of integrity. That is what makes this prayer bold:
Notice that a perfect moral character gives confident nearness to Jehovah, and a sense of being precious to Him. God would have this even in us. We are worth more than many sparrows — the very hairs of our head are counted. Here it is perfect, and He looks to be kept as the apple of the eye — the thing its owner guards as most precious.
Commentators read the psalm as Christ's prayer first. His safety never came from what surrounded Him:
Nothing in His surroundings was a protection for Him. His protection came from God, whose wings overshadowed Him continually. Peter wanted to protect Him from the soldiers of the Pharisees by using his sword. But the Lord Jesus refused such protection. He said, "Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?" (John 18:11). Even when they took Him away to be crucified, He was still under the shadow of the Father's wings. His deadly enemies could do nothing except what God permitted in His sovereign wisdom.
What is true of Him then reaches to everyone who trusts Him:
The sensitivity of the pupil pictures God's own sensitivity to anything that touches His beloved Son, for "the Father loves the Son" (John 5:20). In fact this is true of all believers too. The Lord said to Israel, "he who touches you touches the apple of His eye" (Zech. 2:8).
- Precious — "Apple of the eye" means the pupil, the part the body shields by reflex. To ask for this is to ask God to guard you like that.
- Reflected — The word means "little man," the small image mirrored in the pupil. God sees His own likeness there, and He keeps it.
- Sheltered — The wing pictures a bird covering its young. In this psalm that shelter means escape from enemies; other psalms make it a place of praise and joy.
- Confident — A life walked in God's paths makes the prayer bold. The shelter is with God, not from Him.
- Shared — Christ prayed it first, kept by God alone even at His arrest and cross. His people share that keeping: whoever touches them touches the apple of God's eye.
From the wicked that destroy me, my deadly enemies, who compass me about.
Violent men have closed in on the one praying, and he calls them deadly enemies. Commentators read the words as the cry of an upright life under pressure, with only one shelter left: God Himself.
The hostility here follows from uprightness, not from wrongdoing. Commentators apply the words to Christ, whose enemies wanted Him dead.
The perfectly upright One, because of His righteousness, finds many that rise up against Him. They are deadly enemies who would gladly destroy Him (Luke 4:29; Luke 6:11; Luke 19:47). He refused the works of man and the temptations of the devil, and took the path of dependence. So Christ can look with confidence to God to step in for Himself and for the godly remnant joined to Him. The perfect integrity of His way gives Him perfect confidence in God, and a sense of how precious He is to God. So He can say, "Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings."
The plea for shelter comes just before this list of threats. In the Lord's life nothing around Him gave cover, and He refused the protection a sword could give.
How true this was in the Lord's life on earth! Nothing around Him could protect Him. His protection came from God, whose wings covered Him at all times. Peter wanted to protect Him from the soldiers of the Pharisees by using his sword. But the Lord Jesus refused such protection, saying, "Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?" (John 18:11). Even as they led Him away to be crucified, He was still under the shadow of the Father's wings. His deadly enemies could do nothing except what God permitted in His sovereign wisdom.
In verse 9 the sufferer speaks alone of his own enemies. Two verses later the psalm says our steps.
We see clearly that it has others in view, though not without Christ, in verse 11: "They have now surrounded our steps." Still, Christ is here. Without Him no one could truly say, Hear the right. It is an appeal to the judgment of Jehovah. God comes forward to vindicate the righteousness of the One who cries to Him. The godly remnant will be, in the main, delivered from their deadly enemies. Jehovah will arise and disappoint them.
The sharing runs both ways. He feels what surrounds His people.
This was true when the Lord was on earth, for His disciples stayed with Him in His afflictions. It will also be true in the tribulation period. The godly remnant of Israel will suffer, and He, though in glory, will suffer with them. Isaiah 63:9 says the same: "In all their affliction He was afflicted." Acts 9:4 shows the same truth. Speaking from heaven, the Lord Jesus asked, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?" The Lord felt the persecution of His saints as done to Him.
Later in the psalm these enemies appear as men whose portion is in this life. Faith looks past the human weapon to the hand that holds it.
The men of the world (verse 14) have their portion in this life. In spirit and in principle they oppose those who live among them with a hope and a title to blessing founded on a world-rejected Christ... A Christian, therefore, should think it no surprise if the world hates him; for the world hates Christ. The ways this hatred shows itself vary greatly, but as an attitude it lasts as long as the sin that produces it. Closely connected with this is a very important principle. Faith, which sees God in everything, will deal with Him alone. That is why the wicked man is here called His "sword," and men are acknowledged as His "hand."
Surrounded by enemies, the sufferer still does not ask for revenge. Commentators treat that restraint as the lesson of this psalm.
The soul still depends entirely on God. Yet in its integrity towards God, and over against man, it can plead righteousness. Still it does not avenge itself. It casts itself wholly on God, and so receives the fruits of His righteous dealings. Here is a great secret of practical wisdom: not avenging self. It is the patience of the new life in the middle of evil, looking to God and leaving everything to Him... even here deliverance is sought, not vengeance, only the disappointing of the plans of wickedness.
- Cause — the hostility comes because of the upright path, not despite it. The world hates the godly because it hates Christ.
- Cover — the only shelter named is God Himself; enemies can do nothing except what He permits.
- Company — the "me" becomes "us". Christ shares the path, and counts persecution of His people as done to Him.
- Conduct — the prayer asks for deliverance, not revenge. Refusing to avenge self is this psalm's wisdom.
- Confidence — faith sees God's hand behind the instrument, so it deals with Him alone and waits for Him to arise.
They are enclosed in their own fat; with their mouth they speak proudly.
Psalm 17 is a prayer for help while enemies close in. This verse describes those enemies from the inside out: first their hearts, then their mouths.
One writer reads this psalm alongside the one before it.
Psalm 16 presents Christ as walking the path of life before God. Psalm 17 presents Christ as walking the path of righteousness, with the devil tempting Him and men hating Him bitterly. Psalm 16 is the inner life before God; here it is more the outer life before men. Only Christ walked this life in perfection, though others are joined with Him (see verse 7, "them," and verse 11, "us").
The use of this symbol, fat, is familiar enough in the word. "Their heart is fat as grease." "Jeshurun grew fat and kicked." "They are enclosed in their own fat, with their mouth they speak proudly." It is the energy and force of the inward will, the inward parts of a man's heart.
The two halves of the verse belong together: what the heart shuts out decides what the mouth pours out.
"They have closed up their fat hearts; with their mouths they speak proudly" (v. 10). The fat pictures how they seal their hearts against any proper human feeling. The words of their mouths only express the pride that makes much of their own importance. So what comes out of their mouths expresses the wickedness of their hardened hearts.
Another writer ties this closing-up to a life of ease. He treats the hardening itself as the penalty, already at work.
"From the wicked who oppress me — my enemies who encircle me with desire: in their own fat are they closed up." They are shut up in their own luxurious selfishness. This is the most obvious penalty of sin. Even now it begins to stiffen and harden the heart into the unchangeableness of eternity. Sin is the coffin, the grave, the final prison of the soul!
The same shutting-up can happen in a religious man. One writer finds it in the elder brother from Jesus' story of the lost son.
His heart is shut up in self-righteousness, and there is nothing that can harden a heart more. Self-righteousness claims its due, and sees nothing but its due in all the blessing God can shower on it. The more it gets, the more it values itself for it. Getting so much is positive proof of so much merit. Poverty and misfortune (as the world calls it) are equal proofs of demerit — except when they fall on itself, and then it calls them unrighteousness in God. So the heart is, as Scripture puts it, "shut up in its own fat," insensible, even to the grossest stupidity, or living only to grumble out its folly and its shame.
In the sacrifices, this same fat was offered to God. One writer sees in that a picture of the one Man who gave His whole inward will to God.
The kidneys, the seat of the feelings (Ps. 73:21; Prov. 23:16; Lam. 3:13), and the fat, the expression of human will in the energy of life (Job 15:27; Ps. 17:10; Ps. 119:70) are here seen offered to God, surely expressive of Him who came not to do His own will, but the will of Him that sent Him (John 6:38).
The psalm does not stay in the singular. One writer notes the shift and what it does to the sense.
But in verse 11 we have a change to the plural, and the effect is to bring into clearer view the suffering people of Christ as its subject. Their calling is to suffer. Their blessing is to know the delivering power of God's right hand from every form of evil, though the adversary seems to triumph for a while (2 Cor. 1:10).
- Fat — the symbol stands for "the energy and force of the inward will." It means a man's own drive, not his body.
- Closed — that will can shut up around itself. It seals the heart "against any proper human feeling."
- Proud — the sealed heart still speaks. Proud words are the sound of a hardened inside.
- Punished — the closing is itself the penalty. Sin begins to "stiffen and harden the heart into the unchangeableness of eternity." It works through comfort and through self-righteousness alike.
- Offered — the same fat was offered to God. It points to the One who came not to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him.
They have now encompassed us in our steps; their eyes have they set, bowing down to the earth.
Psalm 17 is a prayer asking God to hear a righteous cause, and at this verse one man's danger becomes "us". The commentators ask who else is inside the prayer, and what the enemy's fixed stare means.
Commentators read the plural as a deliberate signal. The psalm has others in view, though never apart from Christ. The older wording they quote is "us in our steps".
The key to Psalm 16 was, "In you I put my trust"; the key to Psalm 17 is, "Hear the right." ... Psalm 17 certainly applies to Him too, but not so completely. We see clearly that it has others in view, though not without Christ, in verse 11: "They have now surrounded us in our steps." Still, Christ is found here: without Him no one could really say it and mean it, "Hear the right." It is an appeal to the judgment of Jehovah, God coming out to vindicate the righteousness of the one who cries to Him. God will, in the main, deliver the godly remnant from their deadly enemies. Jehovah will rise up and disappoint them.
The same change brings a whole company of sufferers into view.
But in verse 11 there is a change to the plural. The effect is to bring the suffering people of Christ into clear view as its subject. Their calling is to suffer. Their blessing is to know the delivering power of God's right hand from every form of evil, even though the enemy seems to triumph for a while.
One writer traces that "us" in three directions: back to the disciples, forward to a suffering people in a coming time of trouble, and out to persecuted saints.
In verses 8 and 9 the Lord speaks for Himself, using the pronoun "me". In verse 11 He speaks again of "us" as surrounded by enemies. This was true when the Lord was on earth, for His disciples were the ones who stayed with Him in His afflictions. It will be true again in the tribulation period. Then the godly remnant of Israel will suffer, and He, though in glory, will suffer with them... Acts 9:4 shows the same truth. The Lord Jesus, speaking from heaven, asked, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?" For the Lord felt the persecution of His saints as done to Him.
The second half of the verse shows a fixed intention, not just hostility. The next verse gives the picture behind it.
The Numerical Bible renders the end of verse 11, "They fix their eyes to bow us to the earth," speaking of the determination of the enemy to intimidate the saints of God. Verse 12 stresses this: "As a lion eager to tear his prey, and like a young lion lurking in secret places." But the Lord Jesus defeated all this power of the enemy as easily as He defeated the lions that Samson, David and Daniel faced. Whether the lion attacked openly or waited in hiding, the Lord was always in full control.
Older translations read "eyes bowing down to the earth". One writer sets that horizon against the saint's hope at the end of the psalm.
"As for me," says the saint, "I will behold YOUR FACE." That is the prospect before him, whatever the occupations and prospects of the world may be. And what are those occupations and prospects? "They have set their eyes bowing down to THE EARTH" (v. 11). Earth is the one and only sphere the world can see.
The same outlook shows up again in people whose religion never rises above the earth.
Their minds were set on earthly things. Earth was the sphere of their thoughts and their religion. They carried on the tradition of the people the Psalmist described: "They have set their eyes bowing down to the earth" (Ps. 17:11).
Our enemies differ from theirs, but Christ has already been through the same pressure.
This Psalm 17 applies to the remnant surrounded by their enemies — ours are spiritual enemies. Here is the reality of enemies pressing round Christ. The remnant will find that Christ has fully gone through and expressed every half-formed feeling of their hearts, because He put Himself in their place.
- Us. In verse 11 the prayer turns from "me" to "us". The change brings the suffering people of Christ into view, and never without Christ Himself.
- Company. Commentators fill out that "us": the disciples who stayed with Jesus, a godly remnant in a coming time of trouble, and saints whose persecution the Lord counts as done to Him.
- Down. The enemy's fixed stare is meant to intimidate and to bow the saints to the ground. Verse 12 calls him a lion, and the Lord has always kept that lion under control.
- Earth. The enemy's eyes are fixed on the earth. The saint's are fixed on God's face, and that same earthbound mind shows up later in people whose religion never leaves the ground.
- Before. Christ has already gone through this pressure and voiced the feelings the sufferer can hardly form. The calling is to suffer; the blessing is to know God's delivering right hand.
He is like a lion that is greedy of its prey, and as a young lion lurking in secret places.
Psalm 17 has already shown enemies tracking the writer down and fixing their eyes on him. Now the prayer names them as a beast, which raises two questions — how does this beast hunt, and who controls it?
The verse names the lion twice. One writer takes that as two methods of attack, and looks back to three men who met real lions.
But the Lord Jesus defeated all this power of the enemy as easily as He defeated the lions in the case of Samson, David and Daniel. Whether the lion attacked openly, or lurked in secret to strike when least expected, the Lord was always in perfect control.
The second word — the "young lion" — carries the idea of concealment in the Hebrew itself.
Chephir, a "young lion," is called that because he is always lurking in the cover. "Covert-lion" would be a fair translation. It combines the idea of treachery and craft with power and destructiveness.
The hunt for God's people has a target behind the target. And the chase itself, one writer argues, shows what the hunters have become.
The wicked link the Lord's people with Himself, or at least they hate His reflection in them. So what they do to them, they really do to Him. Here they dog the steps of their victims with the savage intensity of bloodhounds. They fasten their eyes on them, ready to pull them down to the ground. Their whole figure is just that of a ravenous beast of prey. A man loses his humanity when he casts off God, and his only likeness left is the beast that is made to be caught and destroyed.
One writer reads the psalm as the voice of Christ, with His people standing with Him. On that reading, the crouching lion has a history in the Gospels.
Verses 10 to 12 show the character of the men of this age who rise up against Christ and His own. They stand in contrast to the righteous One. They are marked by selfish luxury and pride. The luxury leaves them cold to the sorrows of others; in their pride they exalt themselves. They watch the righteous One and those joined with Him, to cast them down, and they plot their destruction in secret (Mark 3:2-6; John 11:53; John 12:10).
A lion kills more than it needs. One writer works from an older translation, which calls the lion "greedy of his prey," and holds it up as a mirror.
The wicked are like "a lion that is greedy of his prey" (v. 12). The wild beast knows nothing of restraint on his passions. He tears and slaughters more than enough to satisfy his cravings. Yet he is not satisfied, and he slaughters again tomorrow. Man in his unconverted state is like this... This is indeed the way of the world, but let us see to it that we keep quite clear of this greedy, unsatisfied spirit.
One writer starts with why David reached for this picture, then turns it toward the reader's own heart.
His enemies attacked him suddenly and unexpectedly, and that filled him with fear. So he compared them to a young lion lurking in hiding. David was asking to be kept safe from the cunning of the enemies around him. But it is worth remembering that sin, the enemy inside you, loves darkness and hiding, like lions and many other foes of the night. So you are surely exposed to the danger of inward pollution spreading unnoticed, and it will defile the conscience and the heart.
The next verse turns from the lion to God, and it calls the wicked man God's sword. That answers the question of control.
An appeal to God to thwart the secret plots of the enemy; to judge the wicked, and deliver the righteous. The wicked are only the sword of God for carrying out His government. So He can easily turn that sword away from the godly and use it to destroy the wicked.
- Lion twice — Two lions, two methods: the open charge and the hidden crouch. The younger one is named from his habit of lurking in cover, which mixes craft with destructive strength.
- Lion unmasked — The picture is a verdict, not just a metaphor. Cast off God, and the only likeness left is a ravenous animal that kills past its need and still wants more.
- Lion on Christ — The lurking is watching and plotting: enemies who studied the righteous One and His people, and worked to bring them down. What they did to His people, they did to Him.
- Lion within — Sin works the same way. It loves darkness and hiding, and it spreads unseen until it defiles the conscience.
- Lion leashed — The wicked man is God's sword. A sword does not choose its target; the hand that holds it can turn it away from the godly and against the wicked.
Arise, Jehovah, anticipate him, cast him down deliver my soul from the wicked, thy sword;
Psalm 17 is the prayer of a man surrounded by enemies. Here he asks God to rise up and act. The striking thing is what he calls his persecutor — not merely an enemy, but a weapon in God's own hand.
The whole psalm is the voice of someone living rightly and finding that the world resents it. This verse asks for two things: stop the enemy, and rescue me.
Psalm 17 looks at this life in practice here below, and at its difficulties with man who opposes what is right. The soul still depends on God completely. Yet as to integrity towards God, and as against man, the soul can plead righteousness. Still it does not avenge itself. It casts itself on God entirely, and so gets the fruits of His righteous dealings. This is a great secret of practical wisdom — not avenging self, the patience of the new life in the middle of evil, looking to God and leaving everything to Him... even here the prayer is for deliverance, not vengeance, only that the plans of wickedness fail.
The two short commands ask God to break up a scheme already in motion.
An appeal to God to thwart the secret plots of the enemy; to judge the wicked, and deliver the righteous. The wicked are only the sword of God for carrying out His government. It is easy, then, for the sword to be turned aside from the godly and used for the destruction of the wicked.
The ESV reads, "Deliver my soul from the wicked by your sword." Some translations read the line differently, and call the wicked man himself God's sword. On that reading, the persecutor never acts on his own.
The Lord will arise to shake the earth terribly, confronting the wicked and casting them down. By this solemn judgment He will deliver His true Servant from the wicked, who are God's sword. God uses even the wicked to do what He purposes, and He allows them to persecute believers for a wise reason. They think they are having their own way, but they are only tools in God's sovereign hand.
The same principle works on a national scale, and it ends badly for the instrument:
God uses the pride and wrongdoing of the wicked to chastise His people. Afterwards He destroys the instrument. The Assyrian was God's rod to strike Israel. He boasted against God, and God broke the rod.
This changes who the sufferer deals with, and how he takes the blow.
Faith, which sees God in everything, will deal with Him alone. So it calls the wicked man here His "sword," and owns men as His "hand"... God may direct persecution as an instrument of His chastening, a process of judgment on the house of God. But the tested believer sees this and bows under the rod God has appointed. He stays in the sure fortress of His name, and hopes on with patience to the end.
Commentators read the psalm as belonging first to Christ and then to those who suffer with Him. The change to "us" earlier in the psalm brings the sufferers into view alongside Him.
Here the righteous One who prays sets out the affliction and distress that come on the man of God because he is a man of God. Jesus prayed to Jehovah as one who was oppressed. He kept doing good, and committed Himself to the One who judges righteously... But in verse 11 the psalm changes to the plural. The effect is to bring the suffering people of Christ into clearer view as its subject. Their calling is to suffer. Their blessing is to know the delivering power of God's right hand from every form of evil, though the adversary seems to triumph for a while.
Commentators differ on how far a Christian can pray such words. One writer lists this verse with many like it, and says their atmosphere is not the one a Christian prays in now.
It is fair to suppose that no believer has ever used them, in private and in public, without running into difficulties he cannot answer. To escape them, he is always in danger of "accommodating" and twisting God's word... So the atmosphere is always earthly righteousness administered in judgment. It is not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel and pray, worship and walk.
- Sword. The persecutor is a weapon in God's hand — he strikes, but he does not choose.
- Sovereign. Because the sword is God's, He can turn it aside from the godly, and against the wicked themselves.
- Submission. Faith that sees God behind the blow deals with God alone, bows under the discipline, and waits.
- Restraint. The psalm asks for rescue and for the enemy's plans to fail — deliverance, not vengeance.
- Suffering. The prayer is Christ's first. Then it belongs to those called to suffer with Him and to know God's delivering power.
From men [who are] thy hand, O Jehovah, from men of this age their portion is in [this] life, and their belly thou fillest with thy hid [treasure]; they have their fill of sons, and leave the rest of their [substance] to their children.
David looks at his enemies here. He does not see strong men. He sees men God has already paid in full — fed, rich, with wealth to leave to their children. The question the verse presses is whether a portion handed out inside this life is worth envying.
The phrase translated "men of the world" carries a note about time, not just about geography.
These men belong to this world, or "age." The word marks how passing this world is: it belongs only to time, and so it passes away, along with the lust of the world. Their portion is in this life and in the natural things God gives.
The same reading appears in another commentator, who renders the word "men of time" for exactly that reason, and draws out what it does to their outlook.
They think only of present things, living in that which is to pass away, without a thought of God and of eternity beyond the grave.
The verse says God Himself fills them. That raises a problem. One writer answers it by separating what God pays as wages from what He gives as grace.
There is no question that their portion comes from God. They act for Him without meaning to — in fact they mean nothing of the kind — yet He pays them for their work, as He paid Nebuchadnezzar for his blind service against Tyre (Ezek. 29:18-19). But this is not His grace, and it is not in the things His grace gives.
Being "full" is real. It is also short. The same writer refuses to treat abundance as something to be jealous of.
They may well be "full" for a time — and who would envy them? They may leave their babies more than they can enjoy themselves, in the brief lives they have to enjoy it in.
The ESV reads "from men by your hand." One writer prefers a different rendering — men who are God's hand — and follows it into a story the Lord told.
Verse 14 is rightly translated, "From men who are Your hand, O Jehovah." The sword is a weapon that hurts, but the hand of God has blessing in it, however it may look otherwise. But such men who are God's hand have their portion only in this life. The future has no place in their thoughts. For the time being God allows them to fill their greedy stomachs with present "treasure," like the rich man of Luke 12:16-19, who told himself, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry." He did not consider what God might have to say to him: "Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?"
The previous verse calls the wicked man God's sword; this one calls these men God's hand. That is how faith reads the men pressing in on David.
Faith sees God in everything, and so deals with Him alone. That is why the psalm calls the wicked man His "sword," and why faith recognises men as His "hand."
That reading has a use. In God's hand these men do work on the believer that nothing else would do.
Here faith still looks entirely to Jehovah, and faith sees that the men of this world are the men of God's hand. They serve to test the heart. And in us, who are always in danger of slipping into the world, they keep us strangers in it.
Christ is the exact opposite of these men. His portion lies somewhere else entirely.
As for Christ, He not only had no portion here, but He refused to accept one either from the destroyer (Luke 4:5-8) or from man (John 6:15). He could say in the language of Psalm 16:5, "The LORD is my chosen portion." His portion is in the resurrection sphere — in the presence of God.
So the choice here is not between being poor and being rich. It is between two worlds.
With them it is all earth and greed and this poor life that the grave shuts in... There will also be a great contrast between the world and ourselves if we let go of life in this world, and even "hate" it, so as to "keep it for eternal life." May God give us grace to keep our eyes fixed on the resurrection world.
These men have no share in the things of God. That settles how much weight their view of His work should carry.
Men of the world, who so often oppose Christ and His saints, have their portion in this life, and no portion at all in the things of God. So in these things they have no "right," and their thoughts and opinions are worthless. And when God finally sets up His things in glory, they will have no "memorial" there... Let us never let the ridicule of men turn us aside from the work of God, or make us ashamed of it.
- Portion — measured. "Men of the world" means men of a passing age; their whole share sits inside a life that ends.
- Portion — given. God fills them, but as wages for service they never meant to give, not as grace. The fullness is real, and it is temporary.
- Portion — refused. The destroyer offered Christ a share here, and so did men. He refused both, saying the LORD was His portion.
- Portion — used. The oppressor is God's sword and God's hand: he tests the heart and keeps believers strangers here.
- Portion — answered. Their fullness stops at the grave; Christ's portion, and ours, is in the resurrection world, in the presence of God.
As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness; I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness.
Psalm 17 spends fourteen verses among enemies and men who already have everything. Its last line sets the psalmist's hope beside their full lives, and asks where a person's portion really lies.
The verse just before this one calls them men of the world. That word carries a sense of time running out, and it shapes the whole contrast.
Men are described as of this world, or "age." That word points to the passing character of this world. It belongs merely to time, and so it passes away with the lust of the world. Their portion is in this life and in the natural things given by God. As for Christ, He not only had no portion here, but He refused to accept one either from the destroyer (Luke 4:5-8) or from man (John 6:15). His portion is in the resurrection sphere — in the presence of God. Such is the glorious end of the path of righteousness.
Psalm 16 speaks of joy in God. Psalm 17 speaks of something different: a righteous repayment for a life lived God's way in a hostile world.
This is not the absolute joy in God of Psalm 16. It is the righteousness which gives joy in His presence. That joy is for those who have suffered for it and by it here below, in God's paths, in an opposing world, in an absence or denial of self. "God is not unrighteous to forget." "It is a righteous thing with God to repay… to you who are troubled rest with us." And the heart, too, is satisfied, not here exactly with what God is, but with what we are. "I shall awake up after Your likeness." So "we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." God has predestined us "to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brothers."
Writers apply the verse first to Christ. Read that way, the awaking has a definite event behind it.
Above all, this is true of Christ when awakening from death, the dreadful death of the cross. His many sorrows have given way to the eternal joy of being in the Father's presence, seeing His face in righteousness. God in perfect righteousness has raised Him from among the dead. Righteousness has triumphed over the bitter hatred of Satan and of men in their unrighteous pride. On earth He was denied the satisfaction of being rightly honoured by men. Now He is satisfied, having awoken in resurrection and shown as in the likeness of God. This is true of Him above all, for He is God. But it will also be true of all believers, in a lesser way, when they are caught up to be with the Lord.
The verse holds two hopes at once — one looking outward at God, the other looking at what the speaker himself becomes.
The hope before Him is objective and subjective. On the one hand, having come out of His voluntary exile from it, the beholding of the Father's face in the place of full and supreme showing; on the other, His own emerging from all the conditions of manhood in the humiliation in which He had taken it up, so as to be in manhood itself the visible image and glory of God.
The word "satisfied" marks a limit. No blessing we have now, however real, can reach it.
We have indeed greater blessings and clearer revelations, but still there is evil; for we are yet in the body. Even in the times of greatest revival, something has always mixed in with them that tended to evil. We have surely much cause to thank God and rejoice; yet we must still be looking on to the future blessings in Christ. Never, until He appears, will God give us the full desires of our hearts. Never, until we "awake in His likeness," shall we really be "satisfied." Nothing less will do.
David spoke of resurrection long before the New Testament spelled it out. Writers note that he said more than he could have worked out for himself.
Whether the psalmist entered fully into the meaning of this or not, it was light beyond anything known in David's day. Who could have told that the saint of God would have the likeness of the Son of God in his body of glory, raised from the dead? The Spirit of God used David to anticipate the revelation of Christianity: "We shall be like Him; for we shall see Him as He is" (1 John 3:2).
The two halves of the verse are not a repetition. They answer two different needs.
Here we get the two parts of the blessedness for us — with Christ, and like Him, in the Father's presence. If we were always before Christ and knew we were not like Him, it would be constant distress. Now, sadly, we are unlike Him — but "in Your presence is fullness of joy." With Him and like Him we shall enjoy the light of the Father's face.
- Portion — the men around the psalmist have theirs in this life, in an age that is passing away. His is in God's presence, on resurrection ground.
- Path — Psalm 16 gives joy in God. Psalm 17 gives the righteous repayment of a life that walked God's way in an opposing world.
- Person — the words belong first to Christ. He took no portion from the destroyer or from men, and He awoke from the cross into the Father's presence.
- Likeness — the hope is double: to see His face, and to bear His image. Nothing less than seeing Him and being like Him will do.
- Satisfied — this is the one word that no present blessing can claim. Constant thanksgiving now, full satisfaction only when we awake.
(To the chief Musician. [A Psalm] of David, the servant of Jehovah, who 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. And he said,) I will love thee, O Jehovah, my strength.
David sang this song on the day the Lord rescued him from Saul and from every enemy. Yet his first words are not about the rescue. They are love for the Rescuer. So what draws such love out of a person, and whose voice is really singing here?
The heading tells us exactly when the song was sung. Yet the words run past anything that happened to David.
We know from the book of Samuel that this psalm celebrates David's rescues from Saul and from all his enemies. But the language of the psalm clearly does not stop at anything that happened in David's life... The Spirit of God takes up the event that has real personal interest for the man He uses as prophet. He uses it only as the occasion to bring out the larger and wider scene, and Christ alone can be the centre of it.
This song appears again in 2 Samuel 22. The opening words of love are not there. (Older translations read "I will love you.")
The key-note is, "I will love You, O Jehovah my strength" (v. 1), an expression not found in 2 Sam. 22... Here God's government is set up in blessing, in and for the King, so that His love for Jehovah may find an echo in the hearts of His people.
Rescue can leave a person relieved. This psalm goes further: the heart comes to know the Rescuer, not only the rescue.
The psalm teaches us to call on the Lord in distress, whatever brings it and however it comes. So we come to know not only the deliverance, but the Lord Himself — His sympathy, His kindness, His interest in us. I love Jehovah, he says. Or rather, the heart turns to Jehovah Himself and says, "I will love You, O Jehovah, my strength." Then the heart thinks of all He is for us... Note also, there are holy affections drawn out by the dealings of the Lord... not only praise, because He has redeemed us forever, but a daily working of sympathy and tender thoughts of compassion.
One writer starts from God as the source of every blessing, then walks through the titles one by one.
Here is the Source and the Basis of all blessing, and the heart that depends on Him cannot help crying out, "I love You, O Lord, my strength" (v. 1)... God is His "Rock," the solid foundation of all blessing. He is His "fortress," His unfailing protection from every evil. He is His deliverer, who saves Him from every enemy around Him. "My strength" is the Source of the power that rested on Him without a break. "My shield" is His personal defence from every attack of the enemy. "The horn of my salvation" speaks of power that saves from harm and danger. And "my stronghold" is one more picture of His perfect protection. All of these show the greatness and power of God on behalf of the Lord Jesus. In a small measure David could say them of himself, and believers may too.
Two different Hebrew words stand behind the rock imagery, and each carries its own picture.
The first word means "a cleft in a rock, then a cleft rock." The second means "a great and hard mass of rock." So the first puts a safe, comfortable hiding place first. The second puts forward firm ground that no enemy can reach. For the Christian, the cleft Rock is a picture full of tender, wonderful meaning: the firm, unbreakable, eternal Rock, yet split open as a refuge for the soul that runs to it for escape. This double thought runs through all these titles, and by them the psalmist shows the good reason he has for fervent love toward his God.
Some commentators hear another voice in these opening verses — the voice of David's promised descendant.
Here we hear the voice of Jesus declaring the praises of Jehovah, the God of His salvation. As the descendant of David, He had now become able to receive in His own blessed Person the mercy promised in the covenant.
One writer holds up David's words as a declaration any believer can make his own.
It is true that we love to think about God's love toward us. We are "beloved ones," loved by the Father and the Son, and that goes beyond anything a person can understand or imagine. But the Bible speaks, in the Old Testament as well as the New, of our love to God and to the Lord Jesus. David put it in black and white one day when he made that wonderful declaration of love: "I love You, O Jehovah, my strength."
- Occasion: A real rescue from Saul and every enemy started the song. But the words reach past David to a wider scene, with Christ at the centre.
- Addition: This declaration of love is the psalm's keynote, and it is missing from the song in 2 Samuel 22. The King's love for the Lord is meant to echo in the hearts of His people.
- Direction: The rescued heart turns to the Rescuer, not to the rescue. Deliverance draws out affection, not only praise.
- Ground: "My strength," rock, fortress, shield, stronghold — each title is one more good reason for fervent love.
- Echo: What David said aloud, every believer the Lord has rescued may say back to Him.
Jehovah is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my rock, in whom I will trust; my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my high tower.
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 of rescue turns on one line: he calls, and the LORD saves him. But who is speaking here — a hunted king remembering his escapes, or someone greater?
One writer calls this verse the discovery the whole psalm rests on — the LORD proved to be the rock of the soul:
The third verse gives the realization of Jehovah as the rock of the soul: "I call upon Jehovah, the object of my praise, and I am saved from my enemies." This is what the speaker has found, and everything that follows here opens it out.
The tense matters. This is not a promise to pray some day. One rendering shows a man calling now and already saved:
Verse 3 is more correctly translated, "Upon Jehovah do I call, and from my enemies I am saved" (Numerical Bible). So, as we have noted, this psalm looks at God's work, not at an appeal to God like the one in Psalm 17.
The order matters: trust, then the call, then salvation. Translations differ over the tense — "I am saved" or "so shall I be saved" — but not over the outcome. One writer follows that chain in the same words in 2 Samuel:
Verse 3 has told us, "in Him will I trust," and verse 4 adds, "I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised." So he can say with calm, settled confidence, "so shall I be saved from my enemies" (2 Samuel 22:4). There is no uncertainty about this.
David sang out of his own life, yet the song reaches past him. One writer explains why:
David was a prophet. His prophetic songs grow out of his own experiences. But they would not have been prophetic if Christ were not their object. In his experiences David is a reflection of Christ, and that is an immense privilege. But it is only a faint light, a small copy of the perfect Model.
One writer hears Christ Himself in these opening lines, standing with the faithful remnant of Israel. Three things mark Him: love, trust, and a cry:
The Psalm opens by presenting Christ in the circumstances of the godly remnant in Israel. He appears as the One devoted to God — "I will love You, O Lord." He is dependent on God — "in whom I will trust." And He calls on the Lord while surrounded by enemies — "I will call upon the Lord."
If Christ is the speaker, His rescue is not private. One writer links the rock of the earlier line to the salvation of this one:
Hebrew authorities tell us that the proper translation of "The LORD is my Rock" is "Jehovah, my cleft of the rock." Christ is the rock, split open for us, and in Him the believer has found refuge. And He Himself was saved from His enemies and in Him His people are saved and will be saved from their enemies (verse 3).
The verse is also words to use. One writer sends this psalm to a young man troubled by doubts about God, as the song to put in his own mouth:
Will you still listen to the voice of the enemy who has slandered God to you and robbed you of your joy? Or will you let the Lord show Himself to you as the Great Physician, who can heal your soul by His grace and put you back in His service again? … Let this be your child-like and trusting attitude. Then you will surely be able to sing, "I will love You, O Lord, my strength… I will call upon the Lord who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from my enemies" (Ps. 18).
- Call. The verse is the seed of the psalm: one man calls on the LORD, and the rest of it opens out what that call produced.
- Praise. He calls on One already worthy of praise. Trust comes first, and the rescue is certain.
- Christ. David sings from his own escapes, but the song is prophetic. His experience is a faint copy of the perfect Model it points to.
- Together. The rescue is shared. Christ is saved from His enemies, and in Him His people are saved from theirs.
- Sing. When the enemy accuses you and steals your joy, these are the words to take up as your own answer.
The bands of death encompassed me, and torrents of Belial made me afraid.
Psalm 18 is David's praise after God rescued him from Saul and from all his enemies, and verse 4 looks back at how close death came. But the tightening ropes and the rising flood raise a question: is this only David's memory, or is a greater Sufferer speaking here?
Commentators start with the history behind the psalm. Then they notice that its words outgrow the man who wrote them.
We know from the Book of Samuel that this Psalm was written to celebrate how God rescued David from Saul and from all his enemies. But clearly the language of the Psalm does not stop at any event in David's life... The Spirit of God takes an event that mattered at the time to the man He was using only as a prophet. He makes it the occasion for bringing out a larger and wider scene, and Christ alone can be its centre.
One writer points to David's place as a prophet. Older translations, which these writers quote, read "sorrows of death" and "floods of Belial" where the ESV has "cords of death" and "torrents of destruction."
David wrote it, but not everything in it could be his own experience. He was a prophet (Acts 2:30) and he prophesied. Much in this Psalm is prophecy. It describes how Christ was delivered from the jaws of death, and the glory God has given Him... Verses 4-6 describe His own experience of death: "The sorrows of death surrounded me, and the floods of Belial (the marginal reading) made me afraid." Then, in His distress, He called and cried to God, and God heard Him.
One writer hears Christ in these words, passing through the sorrows of death as He did in Gethsemane.
Here we see Christ, with the sorrows of death closing round Him and floods of wicked men pressing on Him, the sorrows of hades upon Him and the cords of death about His soul. I have no doubt that the words themselves first expressed what David had felt... Still, as I have said, that was only the occasion. What they really speak of applies to Christ. In His mind He passes through the sorrows of death, as He did in Gethsemane. This is the groundwork laid for all the rest.
Commentators differ on how far these floods reach. Another writer sees them carrying the guilt of the whole world:
The pangs of death and the floods of wickedness pressed on Him as on no one else. These floods carried the overwhelming horror of the guilt of all mankind, when this blessed Sufferer "bore our sins in His own body on the tree."
The distress does not have the last word. It leads to a cry, and the rescue of others depends on that cry.
The trial deepens. In verses 4 to 6 we see Christ surrounded by the sorrows of death and by the floods of wicked men, with the grave and the snares of death in front of Him. Out of His distress He calls upon God, and God hears Him... Deliverance for others depends on a perfect One taking up their cause and calling upon God. His deliverance, and the deliverance of those identified with Him, comes in answer to His call.
The floods had a limit. One writer shows what they could not do.
The Lord Jesus faced the "many waters," but they could not quench His love. He faced the "floods," but they could not drown His love... There the sorrows of death surrounded Him, and the floods of wicked men made Him afraid, but they could not make Him give up His love (Ps. 18:4).
One writer sees the same flood in a persecution still to come, and sees God's answer to it.
Satan's rage is not satisfied when God's people are driven out of Jerusalem. He still chases them with his hatred, pouring out a flood to swallow them up. This probably means another persecution, as David says, "The floods of ungodly men made me afraid" (Ps. 18:4). But whatever form his spite takes, God cares for His people, and He opens a way of escape — the earth swallows up the flood.
- Occasion — David's rescue from Saul is the real event behind the verse. But its words run past his life to a scene where Christ is the centre.
- Cords — The verse pictures death as ropes tied round a man and wickedness as a flood sweeping over him. Older translations read "floods of Belial" and "floods of ungodly men."
- Christ — Commentators hear these floods closing over the Lord Jesus in Gethsemane. They differ on whether the guilt of mankind is carried in them here.
- Cry — The distress of verse 4 leads to the cry of verse 6, and the rescue of everyone else hangs on God hearing that perfect One.
- Result — The floods could not quench His love. When they rise again against His people, God opens a door of escape.
The bands of Sheol surrounded me, the cords of death encountered me.
Verse 5 finishes a picture started in the line before it. A man is wrapped round by death, with its traps set in front of him. So who is speaking? Is it David, remembering how God rescued him? Or Someone greater?
Older translations end the verse with "the snares of death prevented me." Today that sounds like something stopped death. It means the opposite. A dictionary of Bible words traces the word back to Latin:
'To go before,' anticipate (from the Latin praevenio) 'to come before.' Ps. 18:5, 18 …
So the snares got there first. They met him head on: "the snares of death confronted me." The other key word is Sheol. One writer explains what it means, and why that state had a limit:
"The cords of Sheol entangled me; the snares of death confronted me" (v. 5). 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 psalm's title points back to a real rescue. Years later, another king facing death heard of the God of David:
Isaiah had told Hezekiah that the time had come for him to die. That upset the king. He prayed to God and wept much. He didn't want to die. God sent Isaiah back to the king with the good news that God would answer his prayers and tears. Isaiah was to begin his message with the words "Thus says the LORD, the God of David your father." … The heading of the psalm reads: "A Psalm of David, the servant of the LORD, who addressed the words of this song to the LORD on the day when the LORD rescued him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul." David knew that it was his God who had enabled him to triumph over his enemies. He, like Hezekiah, had been afraid of death. … The God of David was to Hezekiah, David's descendant, what He had been to David.
Commentators read these verses as reaching past David to Christ. One separates the letter from the substance:
Here we see Christ, with the sorrows of death surrounding Him and floods of ungodly men pressing in on Him, the sorrows of hades on Him and the cords of death around His soul. I have no doubt the letter of this expressed what David had felt, as verse 50 shows. Still, as I have said, that was only the occasion. The substance of it applies to Christ. In His mind He passes through the sorrows of death, as He did in Gethsemane.
Commentators mark a careful limit here. One writer sets out what these verses do not describe:
But in Psalm 18 the Lord takes the place of the faithful remnant of Israel. He is upright as an Israelite, and He goes down into the sorrows of death. He is not there suffering the pain that makes atonement, that is, suffering under divine wrath. He cries to the LORD while death's power presses on His soul — "the sorrows of death," "the sorrows of hell." … In truth, the psalm does not speak of actual death, but of its sorrows.
Another writer marks the same limit from the other side:
Here God appears only as the deliverer of the righteous Sufferer, in faithfulness and with power. … Only the powers of darkness are lined up against the Holy One.
In verse 6 the man in the snare calls out. One writer traces what hangs on that cry:
The trial deepens. In verses 4 to 6 we see Christ surrounded by the sorrows of death and by the floods of ungodly people, with the grave and the snares of death in front of Him. Out of His distress He calls on God, and God hears Him. This introduces the great theme of the psalm. All deliverance for Israel turns on Christ having entered into their sorrows and, in that place, calling on the Lord. Deliverance for others depends on a perfect One taking up their cause and calling on God. His deliverance, and the deliverance of those joined with Him, comes in answer to His call.
The snares closed, but they did not hold. One writer describes the enemy's last effort:
So the great enemy of God and man fought fiercely at the cross and at the grave of Christ. The strong man made violent efforts to stop anyone taking his armour or plundering his house. It was all in vain. Jesus triumphed.
- Snared. "Prevented" means anticipated — the traps of death reached him first and met him face to face.
- Sheol. The unseen state of soul and spirit apart from the body: real sorrow, but not permanent for the Holy One.
- David. A real memory of God rescuing him from all his enemies, including Saul — and later a comfort to Hezekiah, David's descendant, facing death.
- Christ. David gives the letter; Christ gives the substance. He goes into the sorrows of death — not under divine wrath here, but under death's power pressing on His soul.
- Delivered. From inside the snare He called, and God heard Him. Every deliverance for those joined to Him answers that one cry.
In my distress I called upon Jehovah, and I cried out to my God; he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, into his ears.
Psalm 18 is David's song of thanks after the LORD rescued him from Saul and from all his enemies. The lines just before verse 6 show a man surrounded by the sorrows of death; here he calls out, and God answers.
Distress does not by itself produce prayer. It can harden a person instead. One writer sets David beside King Ahaz, a later king of Judah who met trouble by turning further from God:
"And in the time of his distress he sinned still more against 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."
The verse names two movements in one breath — the man's cry going up, and God's ear receiving it. One rendering of the Hebrew brings out the plea for help and the arrival of that plea:
In my distress I call upon Jehovah, and to my God do I cry for help; from His temple He hears my voice, and my supplication before Him comes into His ears.
Commentators hear more here than David's escape from Saul. The sorrows of death in the lines before point to Christ, and God appears as deliverer, not as judge:
The voice of Jesus is heard here declaring the praises of Jehovah, the God of His salvation... There is a memorial of His passion (4, 5), of the hour of His trouble, when the sorrows of death surrounded Him... God is seen only as the deliverer, in faithfulness and with power, of the righteous Sufferer. God's own stroke of wrath, falling in judgment on the Bearer of our sins, is not the Spirit's subject here. Only the powers of darkness stand against the Holy One. His cry goes up in His distress and is accepted into the ears of Him who was able to deliver Him from death.
Another writer links the answered cry to the New Testament record of Christ's prayers during His life on earth:
Verse 6 looks back to record His distressed call to God which brought a clear response. God heard Him from His temple, His dwelling place. Hebrews 5:7 tells us that "in the days of His flesh, when He had offered up prayers and supplications, with strong cries and tears to Him who was able to save Him from (out of) death," He "was heard because of His godly fear."
(The ESV renders the last phrase "he was heard because of his reverence.")
Where God hears from matters. So does the ground on which He answers:
In that distress Jehovah heard out of His temple. This links it at once with the earth, and deliverance, and triumph there. But another point of the highest interest points the same way — the psalm lays His obedience to the law as the ground of His being heard in the day of distress (verses 20-26). The righteous obedience of Messiah on earth, and His dependence on Jehovah, calling on Him in distress, brought Him earthly deliverance and earthly triumph.
Held next to Psalm 22, where the cry seems unanswered, this psalm sings the other half of the truth:
"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 true, of course; each fits its place. The psalm here celebrates the hearing, and that out of the sanctuary — the answer of God in His holiness to the Holy One.
This cry does more than rescue the one who makes it. It is the turning point for a whole people:
From the middle of His distress He calls upon God and is heard. This introduces the great theme of the psalm. All deliverance for Israel turns on Christ having entered into their sorrows, and in this place calling upon the Lord. Deliverance for others depends on a perfect One having taken up their cause and calling upon God.
The verse is more than one man's story. It teaches anyone in trouble what to do:
The Lord hears when we call in distress. In the greatest depths we can have confidence. The very thing that looks as if it should shut us out is exactly what makes the occasion for it. The psalm teaches us to call upon the Lord in distress, whatever its cause. So not only do we know the deliverance, we know the Lord Himself — His sympathy, His kindness, His interest in us... Our deliverances may not be of the same kind, yet difficulties and distress often surround us, and there is deliverance in crying to the Lord.
- Distress — trouble is the setting, not the message. The same pressure that drove David to call on God drove Ahaz further away.
- Cry — he calls, and he cries for help. God meets both: He hears the voice, and the plea reaches His ears.
- Temple — He answers from His dwelling place. That ties the rescue to earth, where the deliverance and the triumph come.
- Christ — commentators hear a greater voice than David's: the righteous Sufferer, heard because of His godly fear. Here God acts as deliverer, not as judge.
- Others — the rescue spreads. All that follows hangs on a perfect One entering the sorrows of His people and calling on God.
Then the earth shook and quaked, and the foundations of the mountains trembled and shook, because he was wroth.
The cry of verse 6 gets an answer, and the answer is an earthquake. Who is crying, why does the earth shake, and has this already happened or is it still to come?
(Note: the writers use older Bible translations. These print God's covenant name as "Jehovah," where the ESV has "the LORD.")
One writer calls that cry the great principle of the psalm, and points to the One who makes it perfectly:
The great principle developed — and it is a precious one — is the cry to a trusted God in distress, which He surely hears. Of this Christ is the example, as elsewhere. "This poor man cried, and Jehovah heard him." Only here it is not, as in Psalm 34, tender compassion towards the suffering poor; but the interest that Jehovah takes in a suffering Christ, who has walked in perfect obedience to the law.
The shaking is God's reply, and He replies for all who cry to Him:
His deliverance is God's answer to His cry. The earth then shakes. As the place of assembly shook at the voice of the church in Jerusalem (Acts 4). For the judge of all the earth will avenge His own elect who cry to Him. The Spirit of His mouth and the brightness of His coming will do this (vv. 8, 12; 2 Thess. 2:8).
One writer traces this shaking through Israel's history, David's life, and the empty tomb — and explains why verse 7 speaks of mountains:
It first describes the coming in of Jehovah, in response to His cry, to destroy the power of evil (vv. 4-19). This was verified at the Red Sea, which the psalm clearly refers to. It was verified in the deliverance of David from his enemies, which gave the occasion for it. Above all it was verified in the resurrection of Christ, the basis and perfect example of all deliverance. It will, however, be fulfilled in the events themselves when He establishes His kingdom in the coming day. Also, as a prophecy of that time, this psalm has the earth especially in view. So verse 7 puts "the mountains" where 2 Samuel 22 has "heaven." It is Jehovah stepping in with heavenly power to vindicate His King on earth.
The verse gives the reason for the shaking: God was angry. One writer links that anger to real earthquakes at the cross and the tomb, and to what God held back afterwards:
At the very time of the death of the Lord Jesus there was an earthquake (Matt. 27:51) which spoke deeply to the heart of the centurion and no doubt to many others. At His resurrection on the first day of the week, there was another "great earthquake" (Matt. 28:2). … Man had done all he could in persecuting and killing the Lord Jesus. Now God in His sovereign power steps in to show man how powerless he really is. … His anger smoked greatly against those who had killed His Son. He expressed this at the time, yet He did not bring on them the judgment they deserved. He has waited patiently for men to be brought to repentance.
Those earthquakes were real, but the psalm describes far more. One writer marks what has been shown and what has not:
A sample and specimen of what is described here was given when the angel of Jehovah came down. The earth quaked. The guards at the grave — which had held until then the body of the now awakened Christ — shook and were as dead with fear (Matt. 28). The same mighty power had been felt earlier, when the rocks tore and the graves opened as Jesus gave up His spirit (Matt. 27). But beyond these, nothing more has yet been shown of the terrible majesty of Messiah's God that the eye of nature can perceive.
One day everyone will see the full display. One writer connects the psalm's shaking earth with the Lord's return in person:
But when Jehovah comes in this way, in the person of the Messiah, He comes with power and great glory. The earth will acknowledge the presence of her rightful Lord. So the mountain on which He will stand splits down the middle. As we read in the psalm, "Then the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations also of the mountains trembled and quaked, because He was angry" (Psalm 18:7). So it will be again on that great day.
One writer draws out what this means for anyone facing something too strong for them:
When circumstances are too strong for us, they should have one effect only: to make us realise the presence of God. We see in Psalm 18 how God answers the distress of His people. He rises, and everything crumbles in His presence: the full fulfilment of this Psalm will show it.
- Cry — It starts with a voice. Distress goes up to a trusted God, and Christ makes that cry perfectly.
- Answer — The shaking is God's reply. He rises, and what was too strong for His people crumbles in His presence.
- Anger — The foundations move "because He was angry." God showed that anger at the cross. He still holds back full judgment and waits for people to repent.
- Sample — The quakes at the death and resurrection of Jesus were a specimen of this power, not its full display.
- Day — The full display is still ahead. The Lord will come in person, and the earth will own her rightful Lord.
There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured coals burned forth from it.
David has just cried out to God from the grip of death. What comes next is a storm. Smoke, fire and burning coals pour out of God Himself. The picture raises two questions. What does such violent language say about God? And what event is large enough to match it?
The fire does not come out of nowhere. It answers a cry.
Psalm 18 is of the deepest interest for its interpretation. It presents the sufferings of Christ as the centre of all the deliverance of Israel. His cry there called out upon Israel all the favour of God in power... The great principle developed — and it is a precious one — is the cry to a trusted God in distress, which He surely hears.
One writer reads the shaking and the fire from God's mouth as God's answer to Christ's cry, and as the way He avenges His people.
This is Messiah's praise for deliverance or resurrection... His deliverance is God's answer to His cry. The earth then shakes. As the place of assembly shook at the voice of the church in Jerusalem. (Acts 4) For the judge of all the earth will avenge His own elect that cry to Him. The Spirit of His mouth and the brightness of His coming will do this. (verses 8, 12; 2 Thessalonians 2:8)
The same smoke once covered Sinai and shut people out of God's sanctuary.
"The sanctuary was filled with smoke." Wrath fills that sanctuary, so man is shut out and cannot get in. Sinai too was all smoke. "Smoke went up from his nostrils." Scripture uses this again and again as a figure of consuming fire, the opposite of grace that clears transgressions away.
Another writer traces the same fire to God's holiness, and hears it carried into the world by preaching:
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. This is the fire of God's holiness, expressed by His word — the word His disciples preached with zeal after His resurrection. "He bowed the heavens and came down" in great compassion and power, though a veil really did hide His presence, so that unbelievers did not see it.
The storm has already had visible instalments — the earth shaking at the cross, and again at the tomb. The full shaking is still ahead.
This is a magnificent celebration of the glory and almighty majesty of the God of the Lord Jesus Christ, shown when He raised Him from the dead in answer to His cry (Ephesians 1:17, 19, 20)... God gave a first instalment and sample of what is described here. The angel of Jehovah came down, the earth quaked, and the guards of the grave that had held the body of the now awakened Christ shook and became like dead men from fear (Matthew 28). An earlier sign of the same mighty power came when the rocks split and the graves opened, as Jesus gave up His spirit after His last loud cry (Matthew 27)... But beyond these, nature's eye has yet seen no further display of the terrible majesty of Messiah's God. The shaking of both earth and heaven that this passage speaks of has not yet happened (Hebrews 12:26-27). When it comes, judgment on the enemies of Jehovah's Christ will follow, and none will resist or escape it (verse 14).
Read that way, the empty tomb itself serves notice on the world:
Smoke and devouring fire belong above all to the judgment, yet the resurrection of Christ is itself a warning of coming judgment (John 16:9-11).
The verse sits inside a family of passages that all sing of God coming out to save.
We find the same in Psalm 18:8-20, but there it deals with the enemies of the last days... So all these passages, like Habakkuk's prayer, sing of how God stepped in to save His people in the past. That past rescue is a pledge of the deliverance in the last days.
That is why the psalm tells David's own escape in language far larger than his life:
David's rescue from Saul is told here in a style that shows another and far greater deliverance in view through it.
- Cry — The smoke and fire answer a cry from distress. A trusted God hears.
- Fire — Smoke from the nostrils is a fixed picture of consuming judgment. It is the opposite of grace, which clears wrongdoing away.
- Mouth — Fire from His mouth means He destroys by a word (2 Thessalonians 2:8).
- Sample — The earth quaking at the cross and at the empty tomb is a first instalment of this majesty, already given.
- Pledge — Every past rescue, David's included, comes in oversized language. Each one guarantees the final deliverance still ahead.
And he bowed the heavens, and came down; and darkness was under his feet.
God leaves heaven itself and stoops to earth, with cloud and gloom beneath His feet. Commentators read this descent as far larger than the rescue of one man, and they differ over which coming of God it describes.
This coming down is an answer. One writer traces the whole scene back to a voice raised in trouble.
Psalm 18 is of the deepest interest for what it means. It presents the sufferings of Christ as the centre of all the deliverance of Israel. His cry there called out upon Israel all the favour of God in power. The great principle it develops — and it is a precious one — is the cry to a trusted God in distress, which He surely hears. Of this Christ is the example, as elsewhere.
To bow the heavens is to bend them low. The picture belongs to a group of three verses where earth and sky both react to God.
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 down to the foundations of the hills. His wrath is a consuming fire. The heavens bow under Him as He comes down. Nature's witness to His presence is easy to grasp and simple in itself, yet it still has lessons for us that would serve us well if we learned them better. Creation is not only a mirror of divine perfections: His power runs all through it, and it is sensitive to His slightest movement.
One writer hears two very different arrivals in this stooping down, and fills in what the second one will look like.
Bowing the heavens and coming down is perfectly true of the Son of God who once came in gracious childhood. But this is prophetic too of His coming down to Israel in the time of their deepest need. He comes in judgment against their enemies. He touches the mountains (a picture of higher authorities) and makes them smoke. He flashes like lightning to scatter them, and brings destruction by the arrows of His swift judgment.
The One who comes is not seen. Another writer takes the gloom beneath His feet as a statement about who can and cannot recognise God at work.
"He bowed the heavens and came down." Bowing the heavens speaks of the great voluntary humbling of the Lord of glory. He came to earth in lowly grace at His first coming, but He will also come in solemn judgment at the end of the tribulation. "Thick darkness was under His feet" tells us the character of His judgment: the eyes of the ungodly do not see it.
Why would God cover Himself when He acts in judgment?
Yet in judgment God is hidden more than displayed: it is His "strange work." So He makes the darkness His hiding place. Darkness is His opposite, since He is love and light. Yet He uses it as His tent, and He is in it without being it. Judgment, where it comes, is at its most awful a separation from Him, from the Light — though it is not only that. From these thick clouds the light flashes out, hailstones and coals of fire; for God is displayed even in the judgment that separates from Him.
Writers do not settle on one event. Some tie the descent to the empty tomb, and see only a sample of it so far.
Verses 7-19 are a sublime celebration of the glory and almighty majesty of the God of the Lord Jesus Christ. He showed that majesty when He raised Jesus from the dead in answer to His cry. A first instalment and sample of what is described here came at the tomb. The angel of the Lord came down, the earth quaked, and the guards of the grave that had held the body of the now awakened Christ shook and became like dead men with fear. But beyond this there has still been no further display, visible to the eye of nature, of the terrible majesty of Messiah's God.
Others point the passage forward, and read the past rescue as a guarantee of a later one.
We find the same coming of the Lord in Psalm 18:8-20, but there it concerns the enemies of the last days in particular. All these passages sing of God's past intervention to save His people as a pledge of the deliverance in the last days.
- Cry. The descent is an answer, not an accident. A cry of distress trusted God, and God moved.
- Came down. Bowing the heavens shows a God who bends His own dwelling to reach the earth. Creation is sensitive to His slightest movement.
- Concealed. Thick darkness under His feet means the ungodly do not see the judgment they are living through. Hiding is His "strange work."
- Contrary. He is light, yet uses darkness as His tent — and even out of those clouds the light flashes and He is displayed.
- Coming. Commentators differ on the event. Some read the resurrection of Christ, some His first coming in lowly grace, some the rescue of Israel still to come. What has happened so far is only a sample.
And he rode upon a cherub and did fly; yea, he flew fast upon the wings of the wind.
David's song celebrates a rescue. At its centre God Himself moves — He comes down riding a cherub, carried on the wind. The picture raises questions. What is a cherub? Why does God appear this way? Whose rescue is finally in view?
The psalm opens with David hemmed in by enemies and crying to God.
In Psalm 18 David celebrates his rescue from all his enemies, especially from Saul. God heard his prayer and appeared from His holy temple to deliver him. The earth trembled as its Maker came out to rescue the one He loved. David here pictures the true King, who bore all the hatred of ungodly men. "He rode on a cherub and flew; He came swiftly on the wings of the wind." It is as though the King eternal left His place in His sanctuary for a time, and appeared to judge His enemies. Riding on a cherub and flying seems to explain a phrase used of the mercy seat: 1 Chronicles 28:18 speaks of the chariot of the cherubim, spreading their wings over the ark. Here the throne suggests the chariot on which the Lord rides, the cherubim bearing Him on in unstoppable power throughout His creation.
The cherub is not decoration. It runs from the first book of the Bible to the last with a settled meaning.
The cherub appears first in Eden and last in the closing book of the New Testament. All the way through it is tied to divine government — the throne of God ruling over the earth. The ark and mercy seat are still this throne in relation to Israel. The cherubim there are made 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 righteousness of the throne in action. Their fourfold character — lion, ox, the face of a man, and flying eagle — represents power, patient service, intelligence, and yet a way of working no one can trace. So riding on the cherub here shows judicial action, and "the wings of the wind" combine the speed and power of the storm blast.
The cherubim that carry God out in judgment are the same ones that bend over the ark's golden lid, the place of sprinkled blood.
In Ezekiel they form part of the chariot-throne where the glory of the Lord sat when He came to judge Jerusalem. So in Psalm 18:10 "He rode on a cherub and flew," when He executed judgments on behalf of His anointed. Here too we see the responsibility of man in the tablets of stone that were in the ark. That responsibility is upheld according to the judicial estimate of God's righteousness in the holiest place. We can say it has been perfectly met in Christ — the mercy seat on which the glory of God now rests.
Commentators read this storm scene as reaching back to Israel's escape from Egypt and forward to Christ.
These verses take us back to the deliverance God worked at the Red Sea. There we learn the first great result of Christ entering into the sufferings of God's people. The psalm describes the judgment on Pharaoh and his army with magnificent figures drawn from nature in upheaval — earthquakes, fire, wind, thick clouds, hail and lightning.
The forward look ties the shaking earth to a specific morning.
Here the psalm celebrates the glory and almighty majesty of the God of the Lord Jesus Christ. He showed that majesty when He raised Jesus from the dead in answer to His cry. A sample and pledge of this came when the angel of the Lord came down. The earth quaked, and the guards of the grave shook and became like dead men with fear. Until that moment the grave had held the body of the now awakened Christ. But beyond these, nature's eye has so far seen no further display of the terrible majesty of Messiah's God.
Speed and concealment stand side by side in this scene.
These verses point to the way God will yet intervene in judging the world. But they bear directly on His intervention after the death of the Lord Jesus, when He raised Him from among the dead… Verse 10 is figurative. Cherubim are connected with the government of God, swift in action, as "the wings of the wind" shows. Darkness is made His secret place, with His canopy of dark waters and thick clouds. This stresses that no one can trace His dealings.
- Throne. The cherub always belongs to God's government — His throne ruling over the earth. Riding one means judicial action, not travel.
- Throne answered. The same cherubim look down on the mercy seat and the sprinkled blood. What God's righteousness needs has been perfectly met in Christ.
- Throne in motion. The King leaves His sanctuary and comes out for the one He loves. The wings of the wind add the speed and power of a storm blast.
- Throne veiled. Darkness is His secret place — His dealings stay unsearchable even as He acts.
- Throne coming. The Red Sea and the earthquake at the tomb are only samples. The full display of that majesty is still ahead.
He made darkness his secret place, his tent round about him darkness of waters, thick clouds of the skies.
Psalm 18 is David's song of rescue, and at its heart is a storm: God comes down to save, yet He hides Himself as He comes. Why would a God who comes to deliver wrap Himself in cloud and dark water?
The picture is of God moving from His throne toward a servant in distress. What sets Him moving is a cry.
On the cry of His people, He rides. He comes in the same majesty, intolerant of evil, and in the sovereign power of judgment. But that is deliverance... He draws out of many waters, and so the very foundations of the earth are uncovered. And so He hears out of His holy temple, the place of His awe-inspiring, royal majesty — even though this is Israel's deliverance. What a wonderful thing that He should ride forth in majesty! No wonder redemption is such a thing!
Older translations call this canopy God's "pavilion." The word behind it is plain:
A booth or tent, used poetically for a dwelling. 2 Sam. 22:12; 1 Kings 20:12, 16; Ps. 18:11; Ps. 27:5; Ps. 31:20.
So the storm clouds are His tent — the place He dwells while He works.
One writer ties the darkness to the work God is doing here: judgment.
Yet judgment hides God rather than displays Him: it is His "strange work." So He makes the darkness His hiding place. Darkness is His contrary, since He is love and light; and yet He uses it as His pavilion, and, while He is not it, He is in it. Judgment, where it comes, is at its most awful a separation from Him — from the Light. Yet it is not only that. From these thick clouds the light flashes out — hailstones and coals of fire; for God is displayed even in the judgment that separates from Him.
The same cloud works two ways, depending on who is looking at it.
"He made darkness canopies around Him" (v.12). God is clearly working behind the scenes, yet He Himself is not seen, so the darkness blinds people who have no faith. But the "dark waters and thick clouds" 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. Think of a violent storm: flashes of bright shining may break between the clouds. Brilliant lightning may flash suddenly, often kindling "coals of fire."
For ages this hiddenness shaped how people thought of God, and left them longing for more.
Many Scriptures give us the sense of a mystery no one could see into, which in the mind of man surrounded the being of God. Those who came within range of His activities felt this most: "He makes darkness His secret place; and His pavilion dark waters, and thick clouds of the sky" (Ps. 18:11)... Even Moses, at the giving of the law, had to say, "I tremble with fear." Later he said, "Show me Your glory," and the answer came: "No one can see My face and live." Job sought, in agony, for a Mediator. And the cry of saints of later days is: "Oh that You would tear open the heavens and come down."
Commentators do not leave the verse as the last word about God. One puts it in the past tense:
God is love. God is light. God is in the light. He is revealed. No longer does He "make darkness His secret place" (Ps. 18:11). God has been revealed. The Father has been made known. Guilty man has been brought into blessing, far beyond his bare needs. He has been brought into acceptance in the Beloved, "blessed with all spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ" (Eph. 1:3).
- Cry — the storm begins as an answer. God rides out of His temple in majesty because a servant in distress called. That terrifying advance is deliverance.
- Cloud — the pavilion is a tent: God's dwelling and His screen at once, the place He lives while He works.
- Contrary — He is light, so darkness is His opposite. Judgment hides Him instead of showing Him, yet He is in the cloud He is not.
- Flash — the same clouds that blind unbelief carry the lightning. God shows Himself even in the judgment that separates people from Him.
- Face — Moses trembled and Job pleaded for a Mediator. Now God is no longer behind the darkness: He is revealed, and the Father is made known.
From the brightness before him his thick clouds passed forth hail and coals of fire.
This storm is not weather but God Himself coming down, and the clouds that hide Him also carry hail and fire. So why does a God who wraps Himself in darkness blaze with brightness at the very moment He judges?
Darkness covers God, yet brightness breaks out of it. One writer holds both sides together.
Yet in judgment God is hidden rather than displayed: it is His "strange work." So He makes the darkness His covering. Darkness is His opposite, since He is love and light. 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 separation from Him — from the Light. Yet it is not only that. From these thick clouds the light flashes out — hailstones and coals of fire; for God shows Himself even in the judgment that separates from Him.
The brightness makes God's hand plain to see. One writer looks at how people react when it falls.
Though God made the darkness His secret place, there was "brightness before Him" — that is, anyone could tell 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 volcanic eruptions spread terror, men at least speak of such things as "acts of God." Sadly, they still fail to respond to God in faith. They answer with bitter resentment instead.
Ice and burning coals falling together sounds like a contradiction. One writer reads each one as a symbol, and shows why they belong in the same storm.
We find hail with fire elsewhere in Scripture, and in nature too. It is one of the most solemn pictures of God's judgment that nature gives. It was one of the plagues of Egypt. Cold stands (with darkness) for the withdrawal of God, as fire (which is both heat and light) stands for the glow of His presence, which, as against sin, is wrath. And both these things can exist together, however contradictory they may seem — "hailstones and coals of fire" can be poured out together. God's forsaking must be in anger, and so what would be a ministry of refreshment turns into a storm of judgment. There is a concord of opposites against those who cast off God; while for those who love Him, all things work together for good.
Another writer stays with the hail itself and asks what it is made of.
This thought is emphasised in the hail, the frozen drops of rain. Those gentle showers that water the earth so it may bring forth its fruit, turned into death-dealing wrath! For a Christ-rejecting world there is stored up "wrath against the day of wrath," of which the hail is a figure.
Commentators differ on which deliverance the storm describes. One reads this part of the psalm as an answer to a cry, and looks back to Israel's history:
In His distress He calls upon Jehovah and cries to His God. He hears Him as in the midst of Israel; His cry comes before Him. Now come the results… From verse 7 to 16 we have the deliverance of Israel from Egypt by the mighty acts of Jehovah.
Another sees the same verses describing the power that raised Christ:
Here the psalm celebrates the glory and almighty majesty of the God of the Lord Jesus Christ, as He showed it in raising Christ from the dead in answer to His cry… A first instalment and sample of this was given when the angel of Jehovah came down. The earth quaked. The guards of the grave which had held the body of the now awakened Christ shook and became like dead men with fear.
The same clouds appear again around Christ when He comes.
The cloud of old was the well-known symbol of Jehovah's presence with His people. But notice, Christ is not only said to come in the clouds, but with them, and on them. The clouds that attend His coming are symbols of His majesty. He sits on them as on His throne.
- Hidden. God covers Himself in darkness when He judges. Judgment's worst part is being cut off from the Light.
- Displayed. Out of that same darkness the brightness flashes. God shows Himself even in the act that shuts men out.
- Mingled. Hail and coals of fire fall together. God pulls back, and His anger burns. He is never simply indifferent.
- Reversed. Rain that should have watered the earth becomes a weapon. Mercy refused turns into stored-up wrath.
- Ignored. Men call the evidence "acts of God" and still answer with resentment. Faith is the response the storm calls for.
And Jehovah thundered in the heavens, and the Most High uttered his voice hail and coals of fire.
Verse 13 sits inside a storm. In verses 7-15 God comes down in earthquake, fire, wind, thick cloud, hail and lightning. Two questions follow. What does thunder mean when Scripture uses it of God? And why is one rescue told in language big enough to shake the earth?
Thunder has a settled meaning in Scripture. One writer lists this verse among the passages that fix it:
Thunder is God's voice in judgment, the expression of His authority in it (1 Sam. 7:10; Ps. 18:13; Job 26:14).
The verse does not say anyone saw God. It says they heard Him:
"The LORD also thundered in the heavens, and the Most High uttered His voice" (v. 13). Such a voice is surely heard, though no one sees Him. Hailstones and lightning often come with the thunder, clear evidence too of the greatness and majesty of God. Men may lift up their voices in protest against His sovereign actions. But who can thunder with a voice like His? In the end His voice will fully subdue the voices of all mankind together.
Not everyone hears more than weather. One writer applies this verse to the opening of Revelation's first seal:
The Lord's action here is not visible. Yet a voice of thunder opens the first seal, and it may signal the voice of the Almighty to the one who has "an ear to hear" (Psalm 18:13; John 12:29).
Ice and fire falling together looks like a contradiction. One writer takes the pairing seriously and reads meaning in it:
We find hail with fire in other parts of Scripture, as in nature also. It is one of the most solemn pictures of divine judgment that nature gives. It was one of the plagues of Egypt. In the eighteenth psalm it goes with the same kind of judgment… Cold stands (with darkness) for the withdrawal of God. Fire, which is both heat and light, stands for the glow of His presence, and against sin that glow is wrath. Both can hold together, however contradictory they seem — "hailstones and coals of fire" can pour down together. God's forsaking must be in anger, so what would be a ministry of refreshment turns into a storm of judgment. There is a harmony of opposites against those who cast off God, while for those who love Him all things work together for good.
Hail is rain, frozen. One writer presses what that means:
This thought is emphasised in the hail, the frozen drops of rain. Those gentle showers which water the earth so that it may bring forth its fruit, turned into death-dealing wrath!
The verse shifts names mid-line, from the LORD to the Most High. That second name has a settled force in Hebrew:
I have been looking into the force of the Hebrew words for Most High. It clearly refers, in the end, to God in the millennium as the supreme God then displayed, to the exclusion of what is false. That is the force of the word — One who, above all others and to their exclusion, holds the place of the one true God, exalted as supreme in government… Israel's enemies are completely defeated and given into his hand, and the heir of promise is blessed by Him who has heaven and earth.
Where does this storm come from? One writer hears an older rescue under it:
(vv. 7-15) These verses take us back to the deliverance God worked at the Red Sea. There we learn the first great result of Christ having entered into the sufferings of God's people. The psalm describes the judgment on Pharaoh and his army with magnificent figures drawn from the upheavals of nature — earthquakes, fire, wind, thick clouds, hail and lightning.
The same storm also looks forward, not only back:
We find the same in Psalm 18:8-20, but there it concerns the enemies of the last days more particularly… All these passages, like Habakkuk's prayer, sing of God's past intervention to save His people. That past rescue is a pledge of the deliverance in the last days.
- Voice. Thunder in Scripture is God's voice in judgment, the expression of His authority. This verse is one of the texts that fix that meaning.
- Heard. No one sees Him here. They hear Him. In the end His voice subdues every voice raised against Him.
- Opposites. Hailstones and coals of fire fall together. Cold pictures God's withdrawal; fire pictures the wrath of His presence. Showers that should water the ground come down as judgment.
- Supreme. "Most High" names God as supreme in government over all rivals, the One who has heaven and earth.
- Pledge. The Red Sea stands behind this storm. The rescue of the last days stands ahead of it. Past deliverance is God's pledge of the deliverance still to come.
And he sent his arrows, and scattered [mine enemies]; and he shot forth lightnings, and discomfited them.
Psalm 18 is David's song after God rescued him from Saul and from all his enemies. Here the rescue comes as a thunderstorm: God shoots, and the enemy scatters. Two questions follow. What are these arrows, and whose enemies are finally in view?
The verse does not describe two separate weapons. One writer treats the second line as explaining the first, and traces where the shot lands.
The third set of three verses gives the full display. Now it is clearly 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 rout Messiah's enemies. The earth lies bare to its foundations, and the channels of the waters come into view. These words remind us of Israel's passage through the Sea, and they may also find their fulfillment in the future, in the drying up of the Euphrates (Rev. 16:12).
Arrows are weapons for distance, and God does not need to close with the enemy to hit him. One commentator draws that out with the case of a king killed by an archer firing blind.
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).
The storm answers a cry. That order — cry first, then power — is the psalm's great principle.
Psalm 18 is of the deepest interest for interpretation. It sets the sufferings of Christ at the centre of all the deliverance of Israel. His cry there called down on Israel all the favour of God in power… The great principle it develops — and it is a precious one — is the cry to a trusted God in distress, and He is certain to hear it. Christ is the example of this, as He is elsewhere. "This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him."
Commentators read the storm as history and as prophecy. One writer sets the boundary: God has already given samples of this power, but not the full display.
Here the psalm celebrates the glory and almighty majesty of the God of the Lord Jesus Christ, shown when He raised Him from the dead in answer to His cry (Eph. 1:17, 19, 20)… But note this. The Psalm is prophecy. It describes the personal triumph of Jesus in His resurrection, and also the final results of that great display of Jehovah's power… A pledge and sample of what is described here came when the angel of Jehovah came down. The earth quaked, and the guards at the grave, which until then had held the body of the now awakened Christ, shook and became like dead men with fear (Matt. 28)… The shaking of both earth and heaven that this passage speaks of has not yet happened (Heb. 12:26-27). When it comes, it will bring judgment on the adversaries of Jehovah's Christ that nothing can resist and no one can escape (verse 14).
The same storm language runs through other parts of Scripture. One writer explains why: past rescues are down payments on a future one.
We find the same in Psalm 18:8-20, but there it has to do above all with the enemies of the last days… Psalm 77 takes the deliverance from Egypt and draws confidence from it: the Lord will deliver His people in the time of the Great Tribulation. And so all these passages… sing of God's past intervention to save His people as a pledge of the deliverance in the last days.
The world has not yet seen the power of verses 14–15 at work. Faith can know its secret now.
Elijah passed through the waters by a power that rolled them back. The full deliverance will come because that same power has already worked in the depths through which Jesus passed (Psalm 18:14-15)… The crisis itself is all future. But if our eyes are open, we know the secret now of the power that will do it all.
- Cry — the storm is not weather but response; a cry to a trusted God is what calls down the power.
- Arrows — the second line explains the first: His arrows are lightnings, striking from far off and never missing.
- Resurrection — the first sample of this power came when God raised Christ: the earth quaked, and the guards at the grave fell like dead men.
- Pledge — the Red Sea and David's rescue are down payments on Israel's deliverance in the last days.
- Secret — the display is still future, but that power already worked in the depths Christ passed through, and faith knows it now.
And the beds of the waters were seen, and the foundations of the world were uncovered at thy rebuke, Jehovah, at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils.
David sang this psalm after a rescue, but by this verse the song has grown far beyond him. The seabed lies open, the world's foundations lie bare, and a breath has done it — so what power is this, and for whom?
One writer puts Christ at the centre of every rescue God worked for Israel. The psalm has its own occasion: David delivered from Saul and from every enemy. Yet the words outgrow the man who first sang them.
Christ is, in a word, the centre of Israel's deliverances. He is the cause of their rescue from Egypt, and of their complete and final redemption by power in the last days. Then He is their personal Deliverer too... We know from the book of Samuel what the occasion of this psalm was. It celebrated David's rescue from the hand of Saul and from all his enemies. But it is clear that the language of the psalm in no way stops short at any events in the life of David... The Spirit of God takes up the circumstance that has present personal interest for the man He uses simply as a prophet. He makes it the occasion to bring out the larger and wider scene of which Christ alone can be the centre.
Water rolled back to show its channels is not a new picture in Scripture. Commentators hear Israel's crossing of the Red Sea behind it, and see it looking ahead as well.
The earth is laid bare to its foundations, and the channels of waters are seen. These words remind us of Israel's passage of the Sea. They may also find their fulfilment in the future, in the drying up of the Euphrates. (Rev. 16:12.)
Commentators differ on the picture. Others read the sea as a symbol of the nations. Then what God uncovers is not a seabed but the hidden workings of people.
"Then the channels of the sea were seen" (v. 15). The sea is a symbol of the nations. So in the day of God's judgment their workings will be fully exposed. God will lay bare the foundations of the world in the same way, shaking them so that they give no foundation at all. He will rebuke them with only the blast of the breath of His nostrils. A man could not use his breath as a weapon at all. But God can use the most unlikely means to bring the greatest judgment on the wicked.
The verse names the cause of all this upheaval twice: a rebuke, and a breath. Scripture uses that language for God acting Himself, not through go-betweens or hidden means.
It is hard to imagine language more plainly opposed to the idea of judgment worked out by providential means, or of hidden judgments, than the words we have just weighed. "The spirit of his mouth" expresses the inner energy of divine power (whether creative, Ps. 33:6, or judicial, 2 Sam. 22:16, Job 4:9, Ps. 18:15, Isa. 11:4, Isa. 30:33) with which the Lord will dispatch the lawless one. "The appearance of His coming" declares that He will not do away with him from a distance, or by secret action, or by any secondary means. He will do it by the shining out of His presence.
Why does God come down and tear the world open? One writer traces it to Christ's suffering to death, and to His sympathy with Israel in their sorrows.
Psalm 18 shows in a beautiful way how Jesus, in His suffering to death, is bound up with all Israel's sorrows and Israel's hopes. "In all their affliction, He was afflicted." It was His sympathy with Israel... "The sorrows of death surrounded Him, and the floods of ungodly men made Him afraid." That is what made Him come down to deliver them, "when the channels of the sea were seen, the foundations of the world were laid bare at His rebuke."
The open display is still ahead. But one writer points to Elijah, who passed through waters that rolled back before him — and to deeper waters still.
Elijah had passed through the waters by a power that rolled them back. The full deliverance will come because that same power has already worked in the depths through which Jesus has passed. (Psalm 18:14-15.)... As to the crisis itself, it is all future. But if our eyes are open, we know now the secret of the power that will bring it all about.
- Occasion. David's rescue from Saul is the starting point, not the ceiling. The words reach on to the wider scene where Christ alone is the centre.
- Cry. The upheaval starts with a sufferer in the depths. Christ enters Israel's sorrows of death, and God comes down in answer.
- Breath. The only weapon named is a rebuke and the breath of His nostrils. That is God's own power at work, with no secondary means.
- Bared. The sea's channels and the world's foundations lie open. Some hear Israel's crossing of the Sea; others see the workings of the nations exposed.
- Certainty. The full display is still future. But the power already met its test in the depths Jesus passed through, so we can know its secret now.
He reached forth from above, he took me, he drew me out of great waters
Verse 16 is God's answer to a cry for help. The answer is not advice from a distance. It is a hand reaching down to where the sufferer is sinking. Two questions shape the verse: who is the "me," and what are the waters?
The last phrase of the verse turns on a rare word, and that word ties this rescue to the name of Moses.
"He sent from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters." In the last clause we have a word used in only one other place — the explanation of the name given to Moses, which came from it. But the reference is only a comparison, for a greater than Moses is here. "He delivered me from my strong enemy, and from those who hated me, for they were too strong for me." So the deliverance is the display and glory of Jehovah Himself.
One writer gathers three deliverances into one song: Christ's death and resurrection, the rescue from Egypt long before, and the rescue still to come. They hold together in Christ, who felt His people's trouble as His own.
In this Psalm we have the historical glory in which death and resurrection, and their power in Christ, are linked with the deliverance from Egypt at the beginning and the deliverance of the last days at the end. Jehovah is what links them. Yet it also shows that the bond by which He, as a man and a Jew, belonged with them was already true in sympathy then — "in all their affliction he was afflicted," verse 16. "He sent from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters" (compare Moses, Exodus 2:10).
So what are the many waters? One writer locates them where the Lord's deepest suffering lay.
The many waters do not speak of the Lord's suffering from men, but of the dark depths of anguish suffered from God because of our sin. Once the great work of atonement was finished, God stepped in and raised His Son from among the dead. Never again will He suffer the deep waters of judgment.
If the waters are death under judgment, then the drawing out is resurrection. One writer points to a visible sample of that power at the grave itself.
Here is a magnificent celebration of the glory and almighty majesty of the God of the Lord Jesus Christ, as He showed it when He raised Him from the dead in answer to His cry (Eph. 1:17, 19, 20). "He sent from on high," and so on. A first taste and sample of what is described here came when the angel of Jehovah came down. The earth shook, and the guards of the grave, which until then had held the body of the now awakened Christ, trembled and became like dead men with fear (Matt. 28).
The next line admits that the enemy had the upper hand. That admission is not a flaw in the song; it is the point of it.
He had endured the agony of the "many waters" of being judged for our sins. Now God steps in and turns the sorrow into unspeakable joy. The enemy thought he had triumphed over Christ, but his short-lived triumph became a humiliating defeat.
The same words also look ahead to a people who will face waters of their own.
They also sing of their own salvation in the day of this judgment. For we know that they will be drawn out of many waters: like Noah they will be preserved in the very place of judgment — like Lot, drawn out in safety from it. (See Ps. 18:16)
Another writer names those future waters. He ties the psalm's resurrection to Israel and to a day of trouble still ahead of them.
This Psalm views the Lord's resurrection in relation to the earthly people of Messiah — the nation He died for. That ties the subject to the coming day of Jacob's trouble, out of which he is to be delivered (Jer. 30:7), and to the raging of the many nations, like angry waters, who will hem in the burdensome stone of Jehovah's anger, to their own ruin (Zech. 12:3).
Commentators differ in emphasis. Some read the verse mainly of Christ in resurrection. Others read it mainly of Israel's rescue, past and future. Most hold the two together.
- Cry. The verse is God's answer to a cry from the depths, and the answer is not a message but a hand reaching down from above.
- Waters. Not hostile men only, but the depths of judgment endured because of our sin.
- Drawn. The rare word for "drew me out" recalls the naming of Moses — but a greater than Moses is drawn out here.
- Raised. The drawing out is resurrection — God's public verdict on a finished work.
- Shared. What was true for the One becomes the song of the many — those still in the flood are told they will be drawn out of it too.
He delivered me from my strong enemy, and 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.
Psalm 18 is David's song after God rescued him from every enemy. This verse marks the lowest point of the story. His attackers had the timing, the strength and the advantage on their side. Commentators read it on two levels: David's own escape, and the deeper rescue of Christ out of death. It also steadies anyone whose trouble arrives faster than their help.
The verse before says David's foes were too strong for him. This verse shows them pressing that advantage at the worst possible hour. Writers apply this to Christ. His weakness at the cross was real, and God was the one resource left to Him.
The enemy thought he had triumphed over Christ, but that short-lived triumph turned into humiliating defeat. God delivered Him from His strong enemy. On the outside that enemy was too strong for Him, for "He was crucified in weakness" (2 Cor. 13:4). "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 used the moment to heap abuse on Him. "But the LORD was my support." His own disciples abandoned Him, and only God was His resource.
Older translations read "they prevented me." That old word did not mean what "prevent" means now. It carries the idea of getting there first.
It means 'to go before,' to anticipate — from the Latin praevenio, 'to come before.' See Psalm 18:5 and 18:18.
The enemies moved first and met him head-on while he was already down. One careful rendering of the line keeps that sense of being forestalled, and sets the answer against it:
They anticipate me in the day of my calamity; but Jehovah is for a stay to me.
Verses 16–19 borrow the language of Israel's rescue at the Red Sea and apply it to something greater:
Christ Himself had been in 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 rescued me from my strong enemy;" and "the LORD was my support."
Some readers stumble at hearing Christ speak in words this helpless. One writer answers that dependence is the place He chose, and that His rising again is God's verdict on His finished work.
We now come to the experience of the deliverance. Here we find expressions of weakness. At first they might make someone doubt that this is the Lord's voice at all. But the connection assures us that it is. He takes the place of complete human dependence all through the psalm. So, having taken on the burden of sin and laid down His life, He committed Himself in peace into the Father's hand, to receive back from Him the life He laid down… So resurrection is His justification from God, the seal placed on His completed work. It is therefore the justification of all whom He stands for — of all who through grace believe in Him.
No human help remained, so the rescue could point to only one source. It shows who the Rescuer is.
"He rescued me from my strong enemy and from those who hated me, for they were too strong for me." So the deliverance is the display and glory of the LORD Himself. "They confronted me in the day of my calamity, but the LORD was my support."
This experience is not locked in the past. One writer sees it repeated in everyone who trusts God, and in the faithful few who live through the tribulation still to come.
All this shows His own experience as the author and finisher of the faith. At the same time it is also the experience of His trusting people, and the deliverance of that remnant living during the tribulation period.
That turns the verse into a working principle. What overpowers you is meant to drive you somewhere:
Circumstances that are too strong for us should have only one effect on us: they should make us realise the presence of God. In Psalm 18 we see how God answers the distress of His people. He rises, and everything crumbles in His presence.
- Confronted — In older versions "prevented" means to go before, to get there first. The enemies struck on the very day disaster had picked.
- Overpowered — The psalm admits the weakness instead of hiding it. The enemies were too strong, and Christ was "crucified in weakness," left alone by His friends.
- Sustained — Every human support was gone. God alone held Him up, so the rescue could only display the glory of the Rescuer.
- Raised — Christ took the place of full dependence and trusted His life to the Father. His resurrection is God's seal on that work, and the justification of all who believe.
- Shared — The same path belongs to His people. What is too strong for us should drive us into the presence of God, where everything crumbles before Him.
And he brought me forth into a large place; he delivered me, because he delighted in me.
David has just described deep waters and enemies too strong for him; now he stands in open ground. God rescued him for one stated reason — delight in him — and who can truly say that of himself?
The words of this song run past anything true of David himself. One writer sets verse 19 beside the lines that follow and points out the mismatch:
The reason for David's deliverance is that God takes pleasure in His anointed according to all the perfection of his character. David's character did not match these verses — not even before his fall, and far less after it: "He brought me out into a broad place; He rescued me, because He delighted in me"… 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 — but His salvation has become His people's salvation.
Another writer reaches the same conclusion from the whole section:
Verses 8-20 describe the intervention. Nothing in David's life can be made to fit this. But these are prophetic words, so it is easy to trace here the resurrection of Christ, who was brought out into a broad place (verse 20). "He rescued Me, because He delighted in Me" — these words are true of Christ alone.
(The verse numbering differs because the song appears twice — as Psalm 18 and as 2 Samuel 22.)
The picture is of someone released from a narrow, pressing space into open country. Read of Christ, the confinement lasted as long as His work, and what came after it showed the Father's mind about Him:
He was "straitened" (or confined) until His great work was finished. But in resurrection He holds the place of Head of a new creation, a realm of infinite blessing that all His own share. Everything about Him — His character, His words, His work — drew the fullest approval of the Father. The Father's raising of Christ from among the dead is the clear proof of this.
Notice the order in the verse. The rescue is not a reward for struggling free. God grants it because of what He finds in the one He rescues. That delight does not stop with Him. It reaches the people whose sorrows He shared:
God delights in Him and answers Him according to His uprightness. He has entered into the sorrows of the suffering remnant of Israel, and God delivers them together with Him. In a word, Christ is the centre of the deliverances of Israel — the cause of their rescue from Egypt, the cause of their full and final redemption in the last days, and then their own personal Deliverer.
If deliverance rests on God's delight, a reader will ask whether God delights in him. The answer points away from his own record and back to Christ's perfection:
Believers too are delivered, not because God delights in them personally, but because of His delight in His Son, who represents them in His pure grace. God has rewarded Him in resurrection because of the perfection of His character and His work. Only this perfection could qualify Him to be the one sacrifice for our sins. We cannot say what He says in verse 20: "The LORD dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands He rewarded me."
The same writer traces the large place forward in two directions:
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.
One writer, commenting on a psalm with the same spirit, states the rule behind rescues like this:
When the blessed God makes a way of escape for sinners or captives, in His love He will carry them into more than liberty.
- Delight — The verse names the cause of rescue, and it is not the sufferer's effort but God's pleasure in him.
- Perfection — David's own record cannot carry the claim. He sings the worth of Someone greater, and that One's salvation became His people's salvation.
- Enlargement — A broad place is the opposite of being hemmed in. For Christ, the confinement ended when His work ended, and resurrection opened the ground.
- Representation — Believers share the rescue. It rests not on God's delight in them, but on His delight in the Son who stands for them.
- More than liberty — God does not just open the door. In His love He carries His people into more than freedom.
Jehovah hath rewarded me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands hath he recompensed me.
The second half of Psalm 18 turns from rescue to reason. The claim is startling. The speaker says God repaid him for his own righteousness and clean hands. Commentators ask who could ever say that truthfully.
One writer takes these verses as the reason God heard and rescued the sufferer. The answer to that obedience appears later, in a coming reign.
These verses present the ground on which God hears Christ in the day of His distress and delivers Him from all His enemies. It is in answer to His perfect obedience to the law. So the path of perfect obedience that He walked on earth passes before us. We will see the answer in His exaltation and triumph in His thousand-year reign. Christ alone met the righteous requirements of God completely. He alone could say without reserve, "I have kept the ways of the LORD"; "I did not put away His statutes from Me"; "I was also upright before Him."
The reward is not arbitrary. It answers an obedience that God tested to the limit and found faithful.
Here are the special grounds of Messiah's deliverance and exaltation. It was the righteous reward of an obedience whose final act was death. Jehovah had rewarded Him according to His righteousness, and according to the cleanness of His hands. He had been tried, and found faithful. In His obedience Jesus was the object of God's full delight: "Therefore My Father loves Me, because I lay down My life" (John 10:17). The righteous title of Jesus sets the measure, and the glory of God answers it. Perfect obedience receives the reward of perfect honour. And this is the title in which the believing sinner now stands in Christ — blameless, beyond reproach and holy in the sight of God (Romans 5:15-21; Colossians 1:22).
Set this verse beside David's own confession of sin in Psalm 51, and the difference is impossible to miss.
Verses 21-25 give the ground of Jehovah's intervention for His servant. These verses prove that in this whole song we have someone greater than David. David could not say, "The LORD dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands He rewarded me." How different this is from Psalm 51! There he prays, "Have mercy on me, according to Your loving kindness; according to the multitude of Your tender mercies." That was fitting language for a fallen sinner, and David felt himself to be one. He did not dare to speak of his own righteousness, which was like filthy rags.
The verse names two things, not one: what He was inside, and what His hands did.
The divine delight in Him has its ground and justification in His perfect obedience. He is righteous not only in intent, but in the cleanness of His hands also. He never knows the misery of falling short of what He desires and aims at. What He designs He carries through. As He speaks so He is; and His speech is with fullest knowledge.
His measure was never His own judgment of what was right. It was the written word of God, honoured even under the worst physical distress.
He is not a law to Himself, nor does He do simply what is right in His own eyes. On the cross He bore the burning thirst of crucifixion. He voiced that thirst only "that the Scripture might be fulfilled." This was no scattered or fragmentary or unbalanced obedience. All was in due proportion and perfect symmetry. It was obedience: the will of God recognized and governing Him in all things.
If only One can speak this verse, what does it hold for everyone else?
David is celebrating the perfection of Someone other than himself: "Jehovah has rewarded Me according to My righteousness, according to My cleanness in His sight." Christ alone could give His Father a reason for loving Him and for saving Him. But His salvation has become His people's salvation.
God's reward to Him came in resurrection. But that same perfection also qualified Him for something else.
Believers too are delivered, not because God delights in them personally, but because of His delight in His Son, who represents them in His pure grace. We cannot say what He says in verse 20. God has rewarded Him in resurrection because of the perfection of His character and His work. Indeed, only this perfection could qualify Him for being the one sacrifice for our sins.
- Ground. Verses 20-24 give the reason God answered the cry for help: an obedience He could reward.
- Person. David could not say this. Psalm 51 is his true voice; this verse points past him to a greater than David.
- Proof. Righteous in intent, clean in deed. God's word measured that obedience, and it held to the end, through death itself.
- Reach. Only Christ could claim the reward. Yet His salvation becomes His people's salvation, because God delivers them out of delight in His Son.
- Result. Perfect obedience receives perfect honour. That same title is now where the believer stands before God.
For I have kept the ways of Jehovah, and have not wickedly departed from my God.
Verse 21 answers the question the whole psalm has been building to: why did God step in with such power? The answer is a life that never turned aside from God's ways. Who could honestly say that about himself?
The rescue is no random favour. From verse 20 on, the psalm states what earned it.
Verses 20-26. The special grounds of Messiah's deliverance and exaltation are now stated. It was the righteous reward of an obedience whose final act was death. Jehovah had rewarded Him according to His righteousness, and according to the cleanness of His hands. He had faced testing, and proved faithful... Perfect obedience receives a reward of perfect honour.
The next verses spell the claim out. He kept every one of God's rulings in view, and the evil around Him never swayed Him.
God has rewarded Him because He has kept the ways of the LORD and has not wickedly departed from His God in the least way. All God's judgments were before Him as His constant meditation, and He never ignored a single one of His statutes... Perverseness was indeed all around Him, but this evil enemy never influenced Him. He stood out as the only One who would stand for simple truth in every detail of His way.
Set these words beside David's prayer for mercy after his sin. The two cannot come from the same man, and commentators read that clash as proof that someone greater is speaking.
From verses 21-25, we have the ground of Jehovah's stepping in on behalf of His servant. These verses prove that in this whole song we have a greater than David... How different is this language from that of Psalm 51... There it is: "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy." That was the right language for a fallen sinner, which David felt himself to be. He dared not speak of his righteousness, which was as filthy rags.
If only the spotless One can speak these lines, everyone else is shut out — until an exchange happens.
So the language of our chapter is the language of Christ, who alone could use it. He, blessed be His name, could speak of His righteousness, His uprightness, and the cleanness of His hands. And here we see the wonderful grace that shines in redemption. The righteous One took the place of the guilty... Here the sinner sees Jehovah stepping in for his glorious and gracious representative, and, as a result, for him as well — and that on strictly righteous grounds.
This righteousness is not sealed off in one Person. Writers note that God also writes a delight in His law into the hearts of the remnant — the faithful part of Israel — and the psalm sets their state before us.
But this brings in another principle — the righteousness in which God delighted. In its full perfection it is found only in Christ as a living man. Still, it also marks out the remnant of Israel, in whose hearts the delight in God's law is written... Christ entered into this place of the remnant in His own perfectness, to give them the value of that perfectness before God, acceptable in His sight. Even so, what the psalm mainly sets before us is the state of those to whom that perfectness was to be applied.
Two things must be kept apart here: God's settled grace toward His people, and His dealings with how they walk.
We must keep this distinction between grace and government in mind. It is a happy truth that God's attitude of grace towards His people never changes, since what Christ is before Him settles it. Yet He still never fails to chasten those among them whose walk and conduct bring dishonour on His name, and to mark them with His displeasure. So the condition for enjoying what He is in grace, and for the showing of His favour, is a walk in His presence.
- Kept — the cause. The psalm treats the rescue as the reward of an obedience tested to the end. Perfect obedience receives perfect honour.
- Kept — the detail. He set aside nothing of God's word, and the evil around Him never moved Him. He stood for simple truth in every detail of His way.
- Kept — not by David. In Psalm 51 David begged for mercy, not for reward. The gap between the two songs shows a greater than David speaking here.
- Kept — then given. The righteous One took the place of the guilty. So when God steps in for the representative, He steps in for the sinner too, on righteous grounds.
- Kept — then reproduced. God writes the righteousness He delights in into the hearts of His own. His grace toward them never changes, yet enjoying His favour still calls for a walk in His presence.
For all his ordinances were before me, and I did not put away his statutes from me;
This verse sits in a run of verses (20–24) where the speaker claims a spotless record before God. It is a song of David, so the first question is whether David could say it and mean it. (The ESV says "rules." Older translations say "judgments," and the quotes below use that older word.)
David's failure is on public record. The gap between these words and the man singing them is the first thing to face.
From verse 21–25 we have the ground of Jehovah's intervention on behalf of His servant. These verses prove that in this whole song we have someone greater than David. David could not say, "The Lord rewarded me according to my righteousness... For all His judgments were before me; and as for His statutes, I did not depart from them." This language is very different from Psalm 51, which we have already looked at. There he prays, "Have mercy upon me, according to your loving kindness." That was the right language for a fallen sinner, and David knew he was one.
Another writer names whose record it is.
David's character did not exactly match these verses, even 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 — but His salvation has become His people's salvation.
The verse describes a life ruled from outside itself. One writer shows what that leaves no room for.
The measure of everything with Him is not His own thinking either. He is not a law to Himself, nor does He simply do what is right in His own eyes... "But how then should the Scripture be fulfilled?" was for Him a decisive argument. On the cross He was burning with thirst. Even then, He spoke of that thirst only "that the Scripture might be fulfilled." So He could truly say, "All His judgments were before Me; nor did I put His statutes from Me." His obedience was never patchy, partial, or out of balance. It was all in due proportion and perfect symmetry. It was obedience: the will of God recognised and governing Him in all things.
Earlier in the psalm comes a cry of distress. These verses say why God answered it.
These verses present the ground on which Christ is heard in the day of His distress, and delivered from all His enemies. It is in answer to His perfect obedience to the law. So the path of perfect obedience that He walked on earth passes before us. The answer will be seen in His exaltation and triumph in His millennial reign... Christ alone answered in an absolute way to the righteous requirements of God. Only He could say, without qualification, "I have kept the ways of the Lord"; "I did not put away his statutes from me"; "I was also upright before him."
Another writer traces where that obedience leads.
Here, in Psalm 18, there is obedience to His statutes, a cry in distress even to the pains of death, and deliverance, and triumph on the earth. Such is the result of the legal righteousness of Christ when in distress, in the middle of the floods of ungodly men and His strong enemy.
If these words belong to Christ, they do not shut the sinner out. They are where he finds rest.
So the language of our chapter is the language of Christ, who alone could use it. He, blessed be His name, could speak of His righteousness, His uprightness, and the cleanness of His hands. And here we see the wonderful grace that shines in redemption. The righteous One took the place of the guilty... Here is the sinner's resting place... Here he may see the Lord acting for his glorious and gracious representative — and, as a result, acting for him too, on strictly righteous grounds.
One writer follows that obedience to its last act, and its reward to us.
It was the righteous reward of an obedience that had done its final act in death. He had been tried, and found faithful... Perfect obedience receives a recompense of perfect honour. And this is the title in which the poor believing sinner now stands in Christ, unblameable and beyond reproach and holy, in the sight of God.
- Voice — The words are too clean for David. The song celebrates Someone greater, and His salvation becomes His people's salvation.
- Obedience — He was never a law to Himself. Scripture governed Him, down to a word spoken in thirst on the cross.
- Whole — His obedience was never patchy or out of balance. God's will ruled Him in all things.
- Ground — This unbroken record is why God answered His cry in distress, and why His deliverance ends in triumph and reign.
- Ours — The righteous One took the place of the guilty. So God's action for Him is action for us, and His honour becomes the believer's standing.
And I was upright with him, and kept myself from mine iniquity.
Psalm 18 is David's song after God rescued him from his enemies. Yet here the singer claims a clean record: blameless before God, and kept from the one thing that could have stained him. Two questions follow. Whose voice can say this? And what is "my guilt" (older translations read "mine iniquity") if the speaker is sinless?
David's own words elsewhere give the clue. Writers set this song beside the psalm where he pleaded for mercy.
From verses 21-25 we have the ground of the Lord's action on behalf of His servant. These verses prove that in this whole song we have a greater than David. David could not say, "The Lord rewarded me according to my righteousness... I was also upright before Him, and have kept myself from my iniquity." How different this language is from Psalm 51, on which we have already dwelt. There it is, "Have mercy upon me, according to Your lovingkindness." That was suitable language for a fallen sinner, as David felt himself to be. He dared not speak of his righteousness, which was like filthy rags.
So the perfection sung here belongs to Another. And the rescue it wins does not stop with Him.
David is celebrating the perfection of Someone other than himself: "Jehovah has recompensed Me according to My righteousness, according to My cleanness in His sight." Christ alone could give His Father a reason for loving Him and for saving Him — but His salvation has become His people's salvation.
Commentators admit this phrase is the hard part of the psalm, and they differ on how to solve it.
"I kept myself from my iniquity," verse 23, presents a difficulty in applying this part of the psalm personally to Christ. It is clear that the Lord could not speak of "my iniquity" as referring to indwelling sin. Some have suggested that the Lord could use such language about the special temptations that lay before Him in the path He had to walk. Others have suggested different translations, such as "from perverseness being mine," or "have kept myself from iniquity."
One reading takes "my" to mean the evil that belonged to the road He walked, not anything inside Him.
I judge the true sense of these words to be "the iniquity which lay before me in this path in which I had to walk." "From my iniquity" is never, I think, what we call "indwelling sin," but sin before God, iniquity, a relative state towards Him, guilt. "I kept myself from what would have put me in this relation."
The same writer explains why a sinless Man would call such iniquity His own.
He calls it His as the thing He had come for. It was the thing that tested Him, and tested Him to the full — the iniquity of the nature and position of man and of Jew, without the least trace of it in Him. Tempted in every way, He never let it in; He was pure where everyone else failed.
A second approach solves the difficulty by translation.
Verse 23 can be translated, "I was also perfect with Him, and kept myself from perverseness being mine." Perverseness was certainly all around Him, but this evil enemy had no influence on Him. He stood out as the only One who would stand for simple truth in every detail of His way.
The same words also suit the faithful few in Israel, the remnant. In their mouths "my iniquity" carries its ordinary sense.
Christ could have said "from iniquity"; but personally, "from my iniquity," He could not. Yet the Spirit of godliness in the remnant works to guard them from following the flesh. They own that if Israel goes astray — and in principle they nearly all did — this wickedness was theirs, in themselves; but they were kept from it. Now this is truth in the inward parts, exactly what God wants. Christ has taken up their cause and joined Himself to them. Everything that awakened God's delight in Him also stirred in them by grace. That was their place of acceptance before God, though the atonement was the final ground of it.
The verse sits inside an argument about reward, and the reward reaches beyond the One who earned it.
The special grounds of Messiah's deliverance and exaltation are now stated. It was the just reward of an obedience that had done its final act in death. He had been tested, and found faithful. Perfect obedience receives a reward of perfect honour. And this is the title in which the poor believing sinner now stands in Christ, blameless and beyond reproach and holy, in the sight of God.
- Voice — The claim is bigger than the singer. David wrote Psalm 51 and could not own these words, so a greater than David speaks.
- Difficulty — "My iniquity" cannot mean sin inside Christ. Commentators differ: evil that lay in His path, or "perverseness being mine."
- Testing — Either reading gives the same tested purity. Perverseness surrounded Him and tempted Him at every point, but He never let it in.
- Transfer — He joins Himself to His people and lends them His words. In them the words mean owning the wickedness of their own nature, while being kept from it.
- Reward — Perfect obedience earned perfect honour. That earned standing is now the title in which a believing sinner stands blameless before God.
And Jehovah hath recompensed me according to my righteousness, according to the cleanness of my hands in his sight.
Psalm 18 is David's song after God rescued him from all his enemies. Yet here the singer claims a righteousness and clean hands that God has repaid — and that forces the question of who is really speaking.
The language here does not fit the man who wrote it. One writer sets this song beside David's own confession of sin. The two cannot come from the same man.
From verses 21-25 we have the ground of the Lord's intervention on behalf of His servant. These verses prove that in this whole song we have a greater than David... How different this language is from Psalm 51, on which we have already dwelt. There it is, "Have mercy on me, according to Your steadfast love; according to Your abundant mercy." That was suitable language for a fallen sinner, as David felt himself to be. He dared not speak of his righteousness, which was as filthy rags... So the language of this chapter is the language of Christ, who alone could use it. He could speak of His righteousness, His uprightness, and the cleanness of His hands.
Verse 24 says again what verse 20 said. The repeat is not filler. It drives the point home for readers who could never say this of themselves.
Verse 24 practically repeats verse 20, to emphasise its truth for our sake, for we could not assert this as to ourselves. He alone could be recompensed because of His righteousness, because of the cleanness of His hands in the sight of God.
The verse gives a reason, not a wish. It says why God answered the cry of the earlier verses, and what that answer will look like.
These verses present the ground on which God hears Christ in the day of His distress and delivers Him from all His enemies. It is in answer to His perfect obedience to the law. So there passes before us the path of perfect obedience that He walked on earth. The answer will be seen in His exaltation and triumph in His millennial reign... Christ alone answered in an absolute way to the righteous requirements of God.
The phrase "in his sight" matters. God does the weighing, not people. And the honour matches the obedience exactly.
The special grounds of Messiah's deliverance and exaltation are now stated. It was the righteous reward of an obedience which had carried out its final act in death... He had been tried, and found faithful... Glory and honour became the equal recompense. The Lord, whom He served so truly, had now graced Him with it in His sight. The righteous title of Jesus sets the measure, and the glory of God answers it. Perfect obedience receives a recompense of perfect honour. And this is the title in which the poor believing sinner now stands in Christ — blameless, beyond reproach, and holy in the sight of God.
The reward here rests on flawless righteousness. No one else can claim it on those terms, and commentators keep His ground separate from ours.
He is rewarded according to His righteousness and recompensed according to the cleanness of His hands. This was true of David only in a very limited way, and not true of him at all when it comes to resurrection. All saints will be raised one day, but not as a reward for righteousness. Pure grace will raise them to enjoy eternal glory with Christ.
Grace does not cancel God's concern about how His people live. One writer draws a line between His unchanging grace and His daily dealings with them.
It is very necessary to keep in mind this distinction between grace and government. God's attitude of grace towards His people is unchanging, and that is a wonderful truth, since what Christ is before Him settles it. Yet He never fails to chasten those among them whose walk and conduct bring dishonour on His name, and to show them His displeasure. The condition for enjoying what He is in grace, for the showing of His favour, is a walk in His presence.
- Speaker — The words reach past David. The man who prayed Psalm 51 could not plead his own righteousness, so commentators hear Christ speaking here.
- Ground — God answered the cry of distress for one reason: perfect obedience, tested and found faithful, carried through to death.
- Measure — God does the reckoning "in his sight". Obedience weighed by His own eye receives honour of equal worth.
- Reach — What He earned, His people receive as a gift. They stand in His title before God, raised by pure grace and not by reward.
- Response — God's grace never changes, but He still governs the daily walk. Clean hands do not earn His favour; they are how we enjoy it.
With the gracious thou dost shew thyself gracious; with the upright man thou dost shew thyself upright;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
With the pure thou dost shew thyself pure; and with the perverse thou dost shew thyself contrary.
David's song of deliverance turns from what God did for him to how God deals with people in general. The second half of this verse puzzles readers. How can the pure God make Himself seem twisted to anyone? Commentators read it as a statement of God's government. He answers each person in the character that person brings to Him.
These lines describe how God rules on earth. They do not describe how He saves sinners.
Verses 25 and 26 set out the principles of God's government on earth. In the government of God we reap what we sow. We find mercy if we show mercy; and will be righteously rewarded if we act righteously. This shows that the blessings of the psalm are not the answer to atonement, but the reward of piety.
God's response mirrors the person standing in front of Him.
Now the character of God is put side by side with this. He deals with men according to what He sees them to be. The disposition they show toward Him, He shows in the same way toward them. The attitude they take, He takes. Meanwhile His grace pleads with them to change what is estranged and hostile, and to be reconciled to Him.
The word translated "merciful" in the previous verse has no exact English match.
Verse 25: "Merciful" is not an adequate translation of chasid, and we do not seem able to give its opposite in English either. We cannot call God "pious," and "holy" does not carry the right force when used of Him. The word has to suit both God and man here. It should express the affectionate sense of relationship on man's part towards God, and on His part towards man.
Commentators differ on how to render the last line. Some read it as "with the perverse You show Yourself contrary." Another follows a margin reading where God wrestles with them. Solomon's later years show what that looks like.
"When a man's ways please Jehovah, He makes even his enemies to be at peace with him" (Prov. 16:7). Asa found this true, and so did his son Jehoshaphat. Both kings had quiet and rest all around them, because they did the will of God. But about Solomon we read, "Jehovah stirred up an adversary to Solomon, Hadad the Edomite"; also, "God stirred up another adversary, Rezon the son of Eliadah" (1 Kings 11:14-23). "With the pure You will show Yourself pure: but with the perverse You will wrestle" (Psalm 18:26 — margin). It is a solemn thing when God has to contend with any of us. But "if we judged ourselves truly, we would not be judged" (1 Cor. 11:31).
The verse does not put a believer's acceptance in doubt. It puts his walk under review.
We must keep this distinction between grace and government in mind. God's attitude of grace towards His people never changes, since what Christ is before Him settles it. Yet He never fails to chasten those among them whose walk and conduct bring dishonour on His name, and to mark them with His displeasure. So the condition for enjoying what He is in grace, and for His favour to show, is a walk in His presence. Enoch is the example: he walked with God and had the testimony that he pleased God.
This principle reaches back over everything a person has already said and done.
On the cross Christ took the consequences for eternity of every believer's sins. That fact never changes. But our conduct in this world falls under an unalterable principle in the government of God: "whatever one sows, that will he also reap" (Gal. 6:7). Psalm 18:25-26 gives another broad principle of His government. Now each of us can review his past history, whether as saint or sinner, and think of the governmental consequences of all he has said and done. Which of us can then say, "I stand in no need of governmental mercy"?
This principle has one perfect example.
Verses 26 and 27 show the absolute justice of God's ways. He has justly rewarded the Lord Jesus, who Himself was merciful and gracious, upright and pure. God has shown Himself the same toward His Son. On the other hand, if someone shows himself perverse, then God will show Himself "contrary" (J.N.D. translation), repaying the perverter in just judgment.
- Government — These verses describe how God rules people in this life, not how He saves them. In His government we reap what we sow.
- Mirror — He meets each person in the character they bring. The attitude they take toward Him, He takes toward them. His grace still pleads with them to change.
- Crooked — With the perverse, God shows Himself contrary. One reading says He wrestles with them, as He did when He raised up adversaries against Solomon.
- Distinction — God's grace toward His people never changes, because it rests on Christ. But He still chastens a walk that dishonours His name.
- Mercy — None of us can say we need no governmental mercy. So judge yourself, and show mercy to others.
For it is thou that savest the afflicted people; but the haughty eyes wilt thou bring down.
This line sits in the middle of David's song of deliverance. The psalm turns from God's rescue to the rule behind it. God acts in two settled ways: one toward the crushed, one toward the proud. Is that about circumstances only, or about the heart?
The verse is one part of God's government. It shows a second side to how He deals with people.
But there was another part of this government, tender care of the afflicted ones, saving them and bringing down all man's pride (v. 27).
The ESV says "a humble people" here; older translations read "the afflicted people". One writer links their rescue to God keeping His promise.
In these verses we seem to find a clearer record of the faithfulness of Israel's covenant God, who perfectly fulfils the mercy He promised to the fathers. The "afflicted people" come first, as the immediate object of His saving deliverance; the lofty looks are to be brought down (27).
Their deliverance rests on Christ taking His place with a suffering people.
As the result of Christ's identification with His suffering people there will be, in the righteous government of God, deliverance for "the afflicted people," and judgment for the proud.
Older translations read "high looks" here. But the eye is not the real subject. It is a window onto the heart.
These references show the link between the heart and the eye: "The one who has a haughty look and a proud heart I will not endure." (Psalm 101:5) — "Lord, my heart is not haughty, my eyes are not lofty." (Psalm 131:1) — "A haughty look, a proud heart, and the plowing of the wicked are sin." (Proverbs 21:4). So here the eye is seen as the mirror and expression of the human heart.
If God brings down the lifted eye, what does He lift up? The answer runs through the whole Bible.
Again and again we find that nothing is more hateful to the Lord than pride and high looks. Humility, on the other hand, is just as often commended: "For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: 'I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.'" (Isaiah 57:15.)
The verse sorts people by the place each one takes.
God will deal with men according to their own character, whether for good or evil. These words speak of men in general: those who take the place of true humility will be saved, while the haughtiness of others brings them down to humiliation.
The same two-sided rule appears again in the New Testament, as a lesson for the church.
The writer also strengthens the call with a solemn warning: God sets Himself against haughty men, and gives grace to the humble. It is the same quotation, word for word, as in James 4:6. See also Proverbs 3:34 and Romans 12:16. So this is a moral principle on both sides, and it runs right through Scripture. It is a lesson for every soul in the church, day by day, and no one can afford to overlook it.
- Government — The verse shows how God rules. He gives tender care to the afflicted and brings pride down. Both halves belong to one way of acting.
- Identification — Christ took His place beside a suffering people. That is the ground of their rescue.
- Eyes — "Haughty eyes" is not about facial expression. The eye mirrors the heart, so what God brings down is a proud heart showing itself.
- Grace — What God opposes in the proud He supplies to the lowly. The same words appear again in James 4:6, and the lesson stands for the church day by day.
- Outcome — Two classes, two ends. Those who take the low place are saved. Those who lift themselves up are brought down by their own pride.
For it is thou that makest my lamp to shine Jehovah my God enlighteneth my darkness.
Psalm 18 is David's song of thanks after God rescued him from Saul and all his enemies. By verse 28 the song has moved past the rescue, and a man just saved from death speaks instead of a lamp — one that another hand lights.
The lamp marks a turn in the psalm. Up to now God has been the rescuer; from here He is the one who gives the rescued man victory and rule.
And the delivered one becomes the conquering and the reigning one at the close. With the Lord strengthening Him, He seems equal to everything. The same hand of God that rescues Him gives Him victory, and at last gives Him dominion. It lights His candle, and makes Him run through a troop.
(Older translations read "candle" where the ESV has "lamp.")
The same writer finds the same pattern in Paul's teaching.
Commentators read this psalm as David's words that reach beyond David to Christ. On that reading, the darkness named here is not ordinary trouble but the darkness He passed through at the cross — and the lamp is what follows it.
"For it is you who light my lamp; the LORD my God lightens my darkness." So may He say — the One who, though the Son of God, has been in the darkness of being forsaken at the cross. We naturally think of the tabernacle lamp, where the gold stands for divine glory and the almond fruit for resurrection, the sign of coming summer. We also remember how Revelation presents Him as the "Faithful Witness, and the First-born of the dead, and" — as He will soon be shown openly — "the Ruler of the kings of the earth." (Rev. 1:5.) Just so, where He is coming out as this last, we are first allowed to see Him come out of the darkness. There He has removed every hindrance to earth's blessing.
Verse 28 follows verse 27, where God saves the afflicted and brings down the proud. The light is given along that same line.
There was another part of this government: tender care of the afflicted ones, saving them and bringing down all man's pride (v. 27). In darkness there would be light. To the righteous there arises light in the darkness.
The lit lamp is not only comfort; it is strength for the fight.
Christ has identified Himself with His suffering people. As a result, in the righteous government of God, there will be deliverance for "the afflicted people," and judgment for the proud. What is more, the godly will be enlightened, and enabled to overcome every obstacle.
The lamp is also a promise held out for David's line. Here God answers a desire that waited a very long time.
The "lamp," which is promised here to shine one day in the kingdom of the Son of David, Abraham saw from far off (Gen. 15:17). In this way he saw Christ's "day," and "was glad." It has been the desire both of Christ and His people all through the night-time of this present world. (Isa. 62:1) The Lord Himself, in answer to that desire, will light it up in due season. (Ps. 18:28) And then it will shine in steady full brightness through the kingdom. (Isa. 60:1)
Until that day, the darkness a believer feels is not evidence that the light has failed. The lamp is God's, and its steadiness does not depend on the weather around it.
These times bring growing anxiety, and the world's darkness deepens around us. Even so, the light of our God shines pure and steady as ever. This is comfort. The pillar was the same to Israel through whatever part of the desert they passed... It gathered none of the gloom of the desert around it... It would be our real sorrow if any of the present darkness we complain about were in Jesus. But it cannot be there.
- Lamp lit, not owned. The light is God's to kindle; the psalmist supplies only the darkness.
- Darkness first. The speaker has been through the darkness of being forsaken at the cross. He comes out of it as Ruler of the kings of the earth.
- Lamp for the lowly. God's government saves the afflicted and brings down the proud. In the dark, light rises for the righteous.
- Lamp as strength. The light does more than comfort: it enables the godly to overcome every obstacle.
- Lamp to kingdom. God never stops at rescue. The same hand that delivers gives victory and then dominion, and the lamp will shine at full brightness in the kingdom.
For by thee I have run through a troop; and by my God have I leaped over a wall.
David sings this psalm after God rescued him from his enemies. From this verse on, the rescued man goes on the attack, and commentators read the line as more than one soldier's memory of battle.
Up to this point in the psalm, God has been the shield of those who trust Him. From here the writers see the language reaching past David himself.
God's word had stood good all through, and Jehovah Himself was a shield to those who trusted in Him. But now He gives strength and victory to His anointed for Israel from verse 29 to the end. No doubt the language is David's, but in substance it introduces the kingdom of Christ.
The verse names its source twice before it names a single feat. The psalm then describes the One whose power is at work. Note that older translations read "run through a troop" where the ESV has "run against a troop."
All enemies and obstacles are now to give way before Him: "For by You I run through a troop: and by my God I leap over a wall." And then we are told the character of Him whom the King represents and in whose power He acts. He is the Mighty One, perfect in His way. He is the Unchangeable, and His word stands every test. He is the sure defence of all who take refuge in Him.
The verse pictures two kinds of hindrance. One fights back. The other only blocks the way.
In the middle of a world darkened by sin, the Lord Jesus depends on Jehovah as His lamp, who lights up all His path (v. 29). By the power of God He had run through a troop, for God's power had left the enemy's power as good as paralysed. He had leaped over a wall too, for God's power had reduced the obstacle in the way to nothing.
The same writer, commenting on this psalm, names a famous wall:
The power of the enemy cannot resist Him, though the troop is large in number. Obstacles like the walls of Jericho will be no hindrance to Him.
Jericho was the walled city Israel faced when they first entered Canaan.
The lamp of verse 28 and the charge of verse 29 come from one hand.
And the delivered one becomes the conquering and the reigning one at the close. As the Lord strengthens Him, He seems equal to everything. The same hand of God that rescues Him gives Him victory, and at last invests Him with dominion. It lights His lamp, and makes Him run through a troop.
One writer applies the verse to ordinary Christian life. The same barriers meet two very different responses.
There stands a five-barred gate, and beyond it a hedge, and behind that a ditch. These would be great difficulties to that old, broken-winded farm horse; he could not face them, however much you urged him. But bring up that well-trained hunter, and they only show his quality. He takes them with flashing eye and easy grace, because of the life and spirit within him. It is sad when a Christian is broken-winded and finished spiritually. He could meet difficulties like that hunter instead.
Three of David's men once held out in a fight, and one writer asks where their strength came from:
Where did their perseverance come from? Had they been alone they would certainly have weakened. But all three were "with David" and under his eye during the fight. He inspired them with courage and patience in their efforts. They took as their model David, who could say: "By You I have run through a troop."
Not every writer applies the verse straight across to the believer. One draws a firm line between David's kind of strength and what God gives now.
Not like David, who could sing of the power by which he had "run through a troop," and "leaped over a wall," and overthrown all his foes. Nor is it the power the preacher receives. That power announces the good news of grace for the guilty, perhaps in trumpet tone, and gathers the wanderers to the Saviour. None of these, right and proper in their place, are in view in the divine strengthening we are speaking of.
- Source. The line credits God twice before it claims anything: the running and the leaping are both "by You."
- Gift. From this verse God gives strength and victory to His anointed; the psalm turns from rescue to reign.
- Reach. A troop fights back; a wall only blocks the way. God's power paralyses the one and reduces the other to nothing.
- Result. The same hand that lights the lamp gives victory and then dominion. God does not stop at rescue.
- Caution. Commentators differ on how far this applies today. Some see a pattern for facing our own difficulties. Another warns that the strengthening God gives believers now is not the battle power David had.
As for God, his way is perfect; the word of Jehovah is tried he is a shield to all that trust in him.
Psalm 18 is David's song of praise after God rescued him from Saul and from all his enemies. Halfway through, he stops describing his own escape and turns to describe God: God's way, God's word, and God's protection. Each one has been tested.
David wrote as a rescued man. Commentators also read the psalm as pointing past him to someone greater.
Here God's King is presented as victorious at last. David composed this Psalm "When delivered from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul." David had often been in danger of death, but he lived to prove deliverance out of all his troubles. Yet his history and personal salvation is not all that the Psalm celebrates. It really speaks of One greater than he... In David's case it was deliverance on earth before death. In the Lord's case He will appear triumphant as the risen One.
Verse 30 sits at a hinge. First, what God has been to those who trust Him. Then, the display of His power.
God's word had stood good all through, and the LORD Himself was a shield to those who trusted in Him. But now He gives strength and victory to His anointed for Israel from verse 29 to the end.
(Older translations read "tried" where the ESV has "proves true," and "trust in Him" where the ESV has "take refuge in him.")
People question God's timing and His methods. The psalm answers them with a contrast.
People may criticize God for delaying His judgment, or for the way He judges. Yet, "As for God, His way is perfect" (v. 30). Man's way is always crooked and twisted — a great contrast to the way of a God who rules over all and knows all. Closely tied to His way is "the word of the Lord." Every age has proved it stable, solid and dependable. And when His judgment is about to fall, what comfort there is in His word: "He is a shield to all who trust in Him." So His judgment is not against believers; it is on their behalf.
The middle clause says God's word has stood the test. One writer traces that quality back to the One who spoke it.
The Bible must be perfect. These are God's words, so they could not be anything else. All His works, in creation or in redemption, carry the stamp of perfection. "The law [or teaching] of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul;" and "His way is perfect." (Ps. 18:30; Ps. 19:7.) We read again, "The words of the LORD are pure words, like silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times," and that "Every word of God proves true." (Ps. 12:6; Prov. 30:5.) The Bible must be perfect, because... it comes from God.
God does not hand out a shield. He is the shield. Faith is what brings a person behind it.
Having its rest in God, faith brings His strength within the heart of the believer. God so becomes Himself the Shield of the soul that trusts in Him. He has made Himself, in Christ, our everlasting Refuge and Defence. Doctrinal knowledge is no shield. Faith is; and when it works, it brings the heart to depend completely on God.
Saying these words and meaning them takes time. One writer traces four steps a soul climbs to reach them.
Resignation. That is the lowest. Acceptance. That is not the highest, but it is one step above. Justification — being able to declare God right. To adore Him for everything He does. That is the highest.
The same writer pictures God as a metalworker who decides the heat and the blows. This confession belongs to people under pressure.
It is very precious to know that God has the metal in His own hand. We see people putting heavy strokes where they should be light, and light where they should be heavy; few where there should be many, and many where there should be few. We are in divine hands, not in one another's. God once offered David a choice of three things. David said, "Let me fall into the hand of the Lord." He would rather be in God's hands than in the hands of the devil or his enemies. We are in the Father's hands. "The Father Himself loves you." He knows how long to keep His bit of gold in the crucible, and when to put it under the hammer.
- Tested, not theoretical. David sings this after God rescued him from Saul and every enemy. Commentators see it reaching beyond David to Christ, risen and victorious.
- Perfect way. Man's way is crooked and twisted. God's delays and God's judgments are perfect.
- Tried word. The word carries the stamp of the One who spoke it: silver purified seven times, dependable in every age.
- Living shield. Protection is not a thing God hands over. He Himself is the shield, and faith shelters behind Him.
- Adoring heart. Resignation, acceptance, declaring God right, then adoration. The crucible and the hammer are in the Father's hands, and that is where this verse is learned.
For who is +God save Jehovah? and who is a rock if not our God?
David sings this song after God rescued him from his enemies. In the middle of it he asks two questions that push past thanks for one rescue: who God is, and why He alone is a rock.
Two Hebrew names lie behind the question. One writer explains what they mean and where the question comes from.
Elohim is, as often noted, the common name for God. It presents Him as the Divine Being that people, simply as people, must deal with, and the One they must answer to. It is a plural word. The singular is Eloah... Pagan nations sometimes used the word for their gods. No doubt this is where the question in Psalm 18 comes from: "For who is God (Eloah), but the LORD (Jehovah)? And who is a rock, except our God (Elohim)?" That is, the true Eloah was Jehovah, and the only rock was Elohim.
Commentators differ on why this name for God is plural. The same writer lays out both views.
Writers explain the use of the plural word (Elohim) in different ways. Some argue that it is simply a plural of excellence, which Hebrew usage allows. In this form the word conveys the excellency or the perfections of the One spoken of. Others hold that God intended it to set out the Trinity. That is the unity of the Godhead in three Persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. In support of this, notice the language of Genesis 1:26: "Then God said, 'Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.'"
A rock stands for what will not move. One writer shows that the same picture makes a claim about Christ.
"And who is a Rock except our God?" The rock is the symbol of solid stability. 1 Corinthians 10:4 tells us, "that Rock was Christ," a clear testimony that Christ is God.
David does not say "a rock" but "our God." One writer takes the same words from Hannah and draws out what "our" carries.
Then she said, "there is no rock like our God." Look at Deuteronomy 32 and see how often that chapter speaks of God as a Rock. Then think of the other rocks — the rocks of the pagan nations, their idols, their support. Think of the tremendous contrast between God and them. This was what Hannah was saying. "Our God," she said. This showed some sense of relationship in her soul. She thought of the stability of God, the permanency of God. Nobody could overthrow God, nothing could overthrow God.
The verse opens with "For." It rests on what came just before: God's perfect way and His proven word.
Men may criticize God for His delay in judgment or for the way in which He judges, yet, "As for God, His way is perfect" (v. 30). Man's way is always crooked and perverse, a great contrast to the way of a sovereign and all-wise God. Vitally connected with His way is "the word of the Lord," proven through all the ages as stable, solid, dependable in every way.
Everyone leans on something. Only one of those supports is still standing at the end.
Men may choose gods of their own today. But when judgment falls they will face the solemn fact: "There is one God." He is the God who was "manifest in flesh," the God to whom they find themselves responsible, the one solid Rock of ages who remains when all else fails.
That solidity is not proved only at the end. Each rescue along the way is a fresh reminder of it.
In the ebb and flow of things here, God alone is what His name Jehovah declares — the One who abides... the settled confidence and security of faith is that God is a rock. Every rescue in your life is one more fresh assurance of this. The refuge stays ours while the storm is still raging.
One writer points to men in a prison cell, with their backs still bleeding.
Look at those poor men, with the blood clotted on their backs, in a damp, dirty, dingy prison cell, Yet there is not a murmur. They are so above self that they can pray and then praise. "As for God, His way is perfect." God says, "Now that you adore Me for all My ways, I will come in for you."
- Question — Other nations had their own word for their gods. David's two questions leave one answer: the true Eloah is the Lord, and the only rock is our God.
- Rock — A rock stands for solid stability. 1 Corinthians 10:4 gives the same title to Christ, a testimony that He is God.
- Ours — "Our God" is the language of relationship. The heathen had their rocks too; the difference is that nothing can overthrow this One.
- Because — The claim rests on the verse before: His way is perfect and His word is proven. So the refuge holds while the storm is still raging.
- Proof — Judgment day will settle the question for everyone. Until then, faith settles it in prison cells, where beaten men still pray and praise.
The God who girdeth me with strength, and maketh my way perfect,
Psalm 18 is David's song after God rescued him from Saul and from every enemy. By verse 32 he stops describing the rescue and names its source: God armed him, and God shaped his road. (The writers quoted here use an older translation. It reads "makes my way perfect" where the ESV has "made my way blameless.")
This line grew out of hard experience. One writer traces it back to the day Saul offered David his own armour for the fight with the Philistine — an offer that would have handed Saul the credit:
Saul could then have said, "It was my armour and my sword that was superior to the armour and the sword of the Philistine." But God watched over His servant who trusted Him, and He overruled everything. So David's soul stored up a blessed experience of God's faithfulness and power. At the right moment it came out as worship of God.
God does the arming. So the strength that meets our difficulties is not our own:
Christ's strength really does carry us through everything, no matter what the difficulties are. We shall feel them, we may groan under them; but when I can say with David, "It is God that girds me with strength" (Ps. 18), the enemy may come against me — "a bow of steel is broken by my arms." The Lord made him triumph over all.
That strength comes with a condition. It reaches the weak, not the self-sufficient:
The path of strength, then, is being made aware of our own weakness. Divine strength — which will never be a supplement to the strength of the flesh — may then come in. So there is entire dependence, and the positive coming in of Christ's power to work through us.
Two verses earlier David says God's way is perfect. Here he says the same of his own path, and the second follows from the first. Writing about believers beaten and jailed, one commentator holds the two together:
Look at those poor men, with the blood clotted on their backs, in a damp, dirty, dingy prison cell. Yet not a murmur — they are so far above self that they can pray and then praise. "As for God, His way is perfect" (Ps. 18:30-32). God says, "Now that you adore Me for all My ways, I will come in for you." "It is God that girds me with strength, and makes my way perfect." My way is in exact correspondence with His way. He goes on until the poor weak fingers are so strong that they can break the bow of steel. There is not a difficulty I am not superior to.
The verse gives two gifts, not one: strength for the man, and a prepared path. One writer applies David's words to Elijah, then draws a practical conclusion:
As David sang, so Elijah might also have sung, "It is God that girds me with strength, and makes my way perfect" (Ps. 18:32). Truly, our God always prepares the way for us, as He also prepares us for the way. Why then should we doubt Him? Though we may well distrust ourselves, not occasionally, but always.
Commentators read this psalm as going beyond David to the Lord Jesus, who lived as a man wholly dependent on God:
As earlier in the psalm, the Lord Jesus speaks as the perfectly dependent Man. He says, "It is God who arms me with strength, and makes my way perfect" (v. 32). Just as God's way is perfect (v. 30), so He makes the way of the Lord Jesus, as Man, perfect.
Another writer calls the giver the Mighty One, and points to what His girding produces:
This Mighty One girds with strength the One whose place is still, therefore, one of loving service to Him. He makes His way perfect, as His own way is perfect. So His progress is uninterrupted.
- Cause. God's own way is perfect (v. 30). That is why a man's way can be perfect too: "my way is in exact correspondence with His way."
- Gift. God gives the strength; we never work it up. It never tops up the strength of the flesh. It comes in where a man learns his own weakness.
- Preparation. God prepares the way for us, and He prepares us for the way. So distrust yourself always, and never doubt Him.
- Pattern. The Lord Jesus speaks these words first, as the Man who depended fully on God. Nothing interrupts His progress.
- Result. Years of trusting God store up an experience that breaks out as worship at the right moment. And no difficulty is greater than the man God arms.
Who maketh my feet like hinds' [feet], and setteth me upon my high places;
Psalm 18 is David's thanksgiving after God rescued him from every enemy. Near the end of the song he turns from the rescue itself to what God has made of him: a man with a deer's footing, set on high ground.
The verse just before this one traces every ability back to God: He arms the man with strength and makes his way perfect. One writer draws out that God works on both ends at once — the road and the traveller. (The writers quoted here use an older English version of the psalm, which reads "hinds' feet" for a deer's feet and "my high places" for the heights.)
As David sang, so also might Elijah have sung, "It is God who arms me with strength, and makes my way perfect" (Ps. 18:32). Truly, our God always prepares the way for us, as He also prepares us for the way. Why should we doubt Him? Though we may well distrust ourselves, not occasionally, but always.
The Hebrew word behind the image is ayyalah, and the animal stands for one quality.
The word ayyalah seems to refer to any deer found in Palestine. No one can tie it to a particular species. It stands as a symbol of activity.
One writer connects that activity to the difference between owning a place and being able to stand in it.
This animal has an agile yet firm tread. The verse says, "He makes my feet like hinds' feet, and sets me upon my high places" (Ps. 18:33). The "high places" belong to the weakest believer. But we need to be made competent to occupy them, with the firm, sure tread of the deer upon the mountains. Only the realizing power of faith is needed for this. It is simply to take God at His word; and if the blessed place is ours, to fill the place.
Commentators read this section of the psalm as passing beyond David to Christ. What strikes them is that even in victory the speaker is receiving, not supplying.
Notice this: though God clothes Him with strength, Christ appears here as the dependent man, on earth, whether suffering or victorious.
Read that way, the deer's climb describes a Man lifted above the world's level. The war-making in the next verse comes from the same source.
The deer gets over hills and rock by the amazing agility of its feet. In the same way God sets the Lord Jesus on high places, above the level of the world. There, in the power of an endless life, God teaches Him to make war and to bend without effort a metal bow that might be used against Him (vv. 33-34).
One writer names where those heights are now, and who else stands there.
"He makes my feet like hinds' feet," able to scale steep heights with ease and agility. This is the energy of faith that rises above the level of earthly circumstances, no matter how difficult they seem. The high places for Him now are the courts of the Father's house. Believers are identified with Him, "seated in heavenly places in Christ" (Eph. 2:6). True warfare, too, has to do with heavenly places (Eph. 6:10-12).
Timing matters here. The gift arrives before the circumstances improve, not after.
Thanks to Him our feet are made like a deer's feet in a time of utmost weakness. Not one promise for the future has been fulfilled yet. We may rise up to our high places and walk through them with light, joyful, quick, and free steps. The heavenlies are, for us believers today, the ground where we find ourselves in Christ. What does scarcity mean to those who enjoy every spiritual blessing there?
High ground is not safe ground. One writer sets our own weakness beside those heights.
What are we? Poor, failing, stumbling creatures, always likely to wander into error and evil at every turn of our path. … Truly we have need, deep need, to walk humbly, watchfully, and prayerfully before our God. … We need to have our feet made like hinds' feet, so that we may walk on the high and slippery places where our path lies. Only divine grace can keep us in a course of steady devotedness. Left to ourselves, there is no extreme of evil into which we may not run. They alone are safe whom God keeps in the hollow of His hand.
- Given — God is the subject of every verb here. He hands over strength, footing, and position; we generate none of it.
- Fitted — God prepares the way, and He prepares the traveller for it. Distrust of self need never become doubt of Him.
- Agile — the deer stands for activity: a tread quick and firm at once. That is faith rising above circumstances.
- Occupied — the high places already belong to the weakest believer. What is missing is not the title but the competence to fill the place.
- Held — those heights are slippery, and only grace keeps the walk steady. Commentators read the singer as Christ Himself, dependent even in victory.
Who teacheth my hands to war, and mine arms bend a bow of brass;
Here the psalm turns from rescue to strength for battle. The hands are David's, but the skill is God's gift — and commentators read those hands as David's, as every believer's, and as the Messiah's.
Before David could sing of trained hands, he had to refuse borrowed armour. One writer goes back to the day Saul offered David his own armour for the fight with Goliath:
There is no doubt that Saul's pretended kindness hid a real and dangerous trap set by the enemy... Satan sought every possible way to corrupt the man after God's own heart. He wanted to bring about his downfall if he could, or at least to compromise him at the very start by tying him to human principles, convenience, and worldly methods. Saul could then have said, It was my armour and my sword that was better than the armour and the sword of the Philistine. But God watched over His servant who trusted Him, and overruled it all. So David's soul stored up a rich experience of God's faithfulness and power. It came out at the right moment in worship of God, for Israel's instruction and building up.
Older translations read "a bow of steel," but the Hebrew names a different metal:
The words are nechosheth or nechushah, and are often translated 'brass.' Copper, or some alloy, is most likely. It is not what we now call steel, though in the first three passages it is translated 'a bow of steel.' 2 Sam. 22:35; Job 20:24; Ps. 18:34; Jer. 15:12.
The same metal appears in David's fight with Goliath. Translations also differ over what the arms do to the bow — bend it, or break it:
David says, "He teaches my hands to war, so that a bow of steel (literally, 'copper') is broken by my arms" (2 Sam. 22:35). Goliath's helmet and armour were of the same material (1 Sam. 17:5-6). Saul also armed David with a helmet of copper and a coat of mail to meet Goliath, but the man of faith took them off.
If God gives the victory, why is training needed at all? One writer finds the answer by looking past this life:
God's redeemed people need training and practice in warfare. Strife in itself is so contrary to the divine nature. Yet we are placed in conditions where we must fight hard and without stopping, so discipline and instruction are needed. David says, "He teaches my hands to war, so that a bow of steel is broken by my arms." There may be no need of conflict in the life to come. But there may be every need for the character qualities that conflict produces here — qualities nothing else could produce.
Commentators read the psalm on more than one level. Some hear in these words the voice of Christ Himself, dependent on God as Man:
As earlier in the psalm, the Lord Jesus speaks as the perfectly dependent Man in saying, "It is God who arms me with strength, and makes my way perfect" (v. 32)... Just as the deer gets over the obstacles of hills and rock by the amazing agility of its feet, so the Lord Jesus is set on high places, above the level of the world. In the power of an endless life He is taught by God to make war, and to bend with ease a metal bow that might be used against Him (vv. 33-34).
Read that way, the trained hands point forward:
His bow will stay firm; His strength will be full forever. When the Son of Man comes to judge the nations, the bow of brass that will strike down sinners will be in His hand. There again, it is His God who will arm Him with strength and teach His hands to war (Ps. 18:32, 34).
The words also shaped the men who fought beside David:
Where did their perseverance come from? Had they been alone they would certainly have weakened, but all three were "with David" and under his eyes during the fight. He filled them with courage and patience in their efforts. They had taken as their model David, who could say: "By You I have run through a troop"; "He teaches my hands to war; and my arms bend a bow of brass."
- Refused armour. David refused Saul's borrowed armour, so Saul could never claim the victory belonged to his sword.
- Given hands. What he could not borrow, God taught him — the skill in the hands is a gift, and the psalm names the Giver.
- Bronze, not steel. The bow is copper or brass — the metal of Goliath's helmet, and of the armour David refused.
- Trained on purpose. God trains His people through conflict. The character it forms outlasts the battles.
- Christ's hands last. The same words belong to the dependent Man whose bow stays firm — and trained hands, then and now, train others.
And thou didst give me the shield of thy salvation, and thy right hand held me up; and thy condescending gentleness hath made me great.
David's victory song lists what God gave him for battle: a shield, a steadying hand, hands trained to fight. Then it ends with a word no soldier expects — God's gentleness — and that is what David credits for his greatness.
One writer takes the shield and the right hand as proof that everything depends on God's power — then meets the gentleness that follows.
God has given him the shield of His salvation — the protection of His saving power. God's right hand holds him up (v. 35). This surely tells us that everything is dependent on the infinite power of God. If Christ as Man was dependent on Him, how much more so are sinful creatures such as ourselves! But then comes an amazing statement: "Your gentleness made me great." It was the gentleness of God to give His Son to come into the world. And it was His gentleness that acted in great power in raising Christ from the dead. Now because of God's gentleness, Christ is exalted at God's right hand, and will judge the world in pure righteousness.
Some translations render "gentleness" as "condescension" — God bending low. One writer sees the whole passage as a picture of the warrior-King who conquers and stays meek.
So we return to see Him as the warrior-King. His hands are trained for war. The shield of God's salvation covers Him so that nothing can pierce it, and God's strong right hand holds Him up. Through it all He is as meek a Conqueror as He was in His life of grace long ago. He says, "Your condescension also has made Me great."
David said this in God's presence, in the same breath as asking who he was to be there at all.
Remember when David went into the presence of God. He said, "Who am I, that I should be in the presence of this great God? What is my house, that I should ask for it in the way I am asking?" But then he said, "Your condescending gentleness has made me great" (2 Sam. 22:36, older translation). What a wonderful statement to make in the presence of God.
The same principle explains a life long before David's. One writer asks what made Abraham great, and finds the answer in the way God first came to him.
What made Abraham great? The gentleness of God made him great. It was not the terrifying demand that later made even Moses, the lawgiver, say, "I tremble with fear" (Heb. 12:21). It was God's gracious revelation of Himself as a covenant-making God, the God of glory, that started Abraham on the life we have been briefly surveying.
When the disciples asked who was greatest, Jesus set a child in front of them. One writer hears David's line as the echo of that answer.
God looked for a certain spirit in those who belonged to that kingdom. As a fitting model of it, He placed a little child among them. In reply to their question He said, "Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." Meekness and humility — being small in our own eyes, however unimportant we may seem to other people — were the equivalent of what is truly great in the sight of God. "Your gentleness," said David, "made me great." (Ps. 18:35.)
Gentleness is also the manner God looks for in us, and it carries a power force never has.
Our motive may be right. The principles we stand for may be true. Yet it is all spoiled when our manner lacks graciousness and gentleness. Remember the striking words of the Psalmist: "Your gentleness made me great" (Ps. 18:35). Our forcefulness can easily slide into violence, and that belittles us in the eyes of others. But gentleness will make us great. Violence draws out violence; but gentleness is irresistible.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Some read the verse as Christ's own words as the warrior-King. Others apply it to the believer's manner day by day.
- Stoop. Translators also render "gentleness" as "condescension": greatness in a man starts with God bending down to him.
- Given. David receives all three — the shield, the steadying hand, the greatness. He celebrates a gift, not an achievement.
- Reach. The same stooping gave the Son to the world, raised Him, and seated Him at God's right hand.
- Measure. God's scale is not the world's: littleness in our own eyes is what He calls great.
- Return. Gentleness received becomes gentleness shown — force provokes force, but nothing stands against gentleness.
Thou didst enlarge my steps under me, and mine ankles have not wavered.
David's song at the end of his wars gives God the credit for something small and easily missed — the ground under his own feet. Commentators read the line in two directions at once. They look back to a king who had every reason to slip and did not. They look forward to Christ, whose every step God laid out.
The words come out of long experience, not a single good day. One writer traces the song back to the years in which God watched over David.
But God watched over His servant who trusted Him, and overruled everything. So David's soul stored up a rich experience of God's faithfulness and power. At the right moment that experience came out as worship of God, for Israel's instruction and building up. We see this in David's song of praise (2 Samuel 22).
One writer reads this verse together with the one before it, and draws the lesson.
God has given Him the shield of His salvation — the protection of His saving power — and God's right hand holds Him up (v. 35). This tells us that everything depends on the infinite power of God. If Christ as Man was dependent on Him, how much more so are sinful creatures such as ourselves!
David is not the only speaker here. Read as the words of Christ, "my feet did not slip" is not a hope but a fact. Two things stand behind it: the God who laid out the path, and the obedience of the One who walked it.
His feet could not slip, because such a God laid out the path before Him (v. 36), and every step He took was in perfect obedience to God. In all of this we see Christ as the only One worthy to be entrusted with the judgment of the world.
The same writer sets God's way of making someone great against the way people reach for greatness themselves.
Man chooses proud, arrogant aggression to force his way to greatness. God reduces all of that to nothing. He showed Himself gentle in the lowly life of the Lord Jesus, and the result is the greatness of His present exaltation above all heavens. The way may have seemed narrow and closed in before. But at each step He takes, He finds it opened up, and He does not slip.
Another writer finds the same mix — one step at a time, yet room to move — in the life of faith. He starts with how narrow such a path looks.
A path of faith is a path which I recognise as God's for me, not my will any longer, except as following His. This makes it, looking from one point of view, as narrow as it can be. At any moment there is only one step He has for me to take — one and no other. So there is no room to act on my own for a single moment. To a legalist, this would feel like unbearable rule-keeping. Only grace can make it as broad a way as it is safe. It is always broad enough for another to walk with us, and His presence is all strength, comfort, and satisfaction. Our own will means sorrow, defilement, and the ditch.
The battles behind the psalm are real history. But the language of these verses reaches past them. One writer, commenting on David's victories over the nations around Israel, points to this very stretch of the psalm.
These are the events that gave rise to Psalm 18, although the psalm has a wider meaning (compare Psalm 18:36-45).
One writer sees that wider meaning reaching to the day of the Lord.
The second coming of the Messiah brings in the day of the Lord, and that is what is presented here. That day will indeed begin in a fearful way. But for the remnant He has shown mercy to, its dark dawn of judgment will open into the clear shining of the Sun of righteousness.
(Note: older translations read "enlarged my steps under me"; the ESV has "a wide place for my steps.")
- Ground. The verse credits God with the ground under the feet. He widens the steps, and the standing that follows is His doing, not the walker's.
- Dependence. If Christ as Man leaned wholly on God for strength and steadiness, sinful creatures have far more reason to.
- Obedience. Christ's feet could not slip, because God laid out the path and He took every step of it in perfect obedience.
- Room. Grace makes God's path as broad as it is safe — one step at a time, yet wide enough for Another to walk beside you.
- Reach. The victories behind the song are only its starting point. Commentators read verses 36 onward as pointing on to the day when God sets His King in place before the world.
I pursued mine enemies, and overtook them; and I turned not again till they were consumed.
The words of this verse are a warrior's report: the chase went all the way, and the enemy was finished. Commentators read it on two levels. David looks back on real battles. Through him the Spirit of God looks forward to a victory David never lived to see.
The psalm's heading sets the song on the day the Lord rescued David from all his enemies. One writer describes him as a servant who allowed himself no rest while the work was unfinished.
He is still, and only that, the servant, doing what pleases the Lord alone, and seeking only His glory. He gives himself no rest. He does not pause until the enemies of the Lord and of His people submit. He pursued and destroyed them, and did not turn back until he had consumed them.
Yet the song does not stay inside David's lifetime. One writer finds in it a picture of Someone greater than David.
The song takes us beyond David and his experience. It points to his sufferings and his rescues. But these only picture Another: David's life and experience foreshadow His sufferings and His victory. So this great psalm of deliverance also tells, as prophecy, the story of David's greater Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.
From this verse the psalm turns to open battle. One writer points to the tense of the verbs.
So from verse 37 to 44 we see Him actually carrying out judgment for God. This is prophecy. It uses the past tense as though the judgment had already happened. Can there therefore be the least doubt that it will take place just as God foretells it? … Of course, this contemplates the latter part of the Great Tribulation.
The Speaker of this verse never claims the power as His own.
So we see His enemies now flat on the ground before Him. He pursues and overtakes them; they fall and do not rise. Again it is God who arms Him with the strength He shows, and throws the stubborn foe under His feet.
Another writer hears in Him a dependent man carrying out God's will.
He gives God the honour for arming Him with strength for the battle and for subduing under Him all who rose against Him. For it is as Son of Man that He speaks, fully dependent upon His God and accomplishing God's will.
The chase ends in destruction, and that troubles many readers. One writer sets the verses that follow against the present hour. He quotes an older translation: where it says "the necks of my enemies", the ESV reads, "You made my enemies turn their backs to me."
"You have given Me the necks of My enemies, that I might destroy those who hate Me." Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is it to save them, or to destroy them, that is His present object? — "They cried for help, but there was none to save; they cried to the Lord, but He did not answer them." The word now is, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
These lines call for the destruction of enemies. They are not words a Christian prays, and one writer explains why by pointing to where each people's rest lies.
This is why the Psalms contain these appeals to judgment, these demands for it. They have often made Christians stumble when unbelievers press them. They are not the expression of Christian feelings. We leave the world and go to heaven. In no sense do we have to demand the destruction of our enemies to pass into glory. But Israel cannot have their rest on earth until the wicked are destroyed.
One thing does carry across: the refusal to quit. Another writer points to three men who fought on because David was their model.
Where did their perseverance come from? On their own they would certainly have weakened. But all three were "with David" and under his eyes during the fight. He inspired them with courage and patience in their efforts. They took as their model David, who could say: … "I pursued my enemies and destroyed them, and did not turn back until they were consumed."
- Occasion — the song belongs to the day the Lord rescued David from all his enemies. He was a servant-king who gave himself no rest until the Lord's enemies gave in.
- Reach — the words outgrow David. Commentators read them as prophecy of David's greater Son, Jesus Christ.
- Certainty — the psalm reports a future victory in the past tense. God speaks of it as done, so there is no doubt it will happen.
- Source — the Conqueror claims no strength of His own. He credits God with arming Him for the battle, and speaks as the dependent Son of Man.
- Timing — today Christ seeks hearts, not necks, and everyone who calls on Him is saved. The pursuit in this verse belongs to a day still ahead. That is why it is not a Christian's prayer, but a model of perseverance.
I crushed them, and they were not able to rise they fell under my feet.
Here the singer speaks as a victor. His enemies are down and cannot rise. Two questions follow: who is really speaking, and when does this scene take place?
The verbs here are past tense. Yet the battle they describe is still ahead.
So, from verse 37 to 44 we see Him judging for God. This is prophecy. The past tense is used as though the judgment had already happened. Can there be the least doubt, then, that it will take place just as God foretells it? "I pursued my enemies and overtook them, and did not turn back till they were consumed" (v. 37). Of course, this contemplates the latter part of the Great Tribulation. "I thrust them through, so that they were not able to rise; they fell under my feet" (v. 38). So the Lord Jesus wins the victory in full. Yet He credits God with arming Him with strength for the battle (v. 39).
The blow in this verse pierces. Yet God is the one who gives the arm its strength.
His bow will remain firm; His strength will be full forever. When the Son of Man comes to judge the nations, the bow of bronze that will strike down sinners will be in His hand. There again, it is His God who will gird Him with strength, who will teach His hands to war (Ps. 18:32, 34). In this dependence He will pierce His enemies so that they cannot rise (Ps. 18:38).
The warrior of this psalm keeps the meekness He showed in His life of grace.
So we return to see Him as the warrior-King. His hands are trained for war. The shield of God's salvation covers Him, and nothing can pierce it. God's strong right hand holds Him up. And yet He is as meek a Conqueror as in His life of grace long ago, for He says, "Your gentleness also has made Me great."
The crushing of these enemies is not the end of the story. It clears the ground for blessing.
This passage presents the bringing in of the day of the Lord by the second coming of Messiah. That day will indeed begin in a fearful way. But its dark dawn of judgment will open, for the remnant of His mercy, into the clear shining of the Sun of righteousness. That comes once the spirit of judgment and the spirit of burning have done their appointed work of purification.
Baines sets this scene against the way God treats His enemies now.
Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is it to save them, or to destroy them, that is His present object? "They cried for help, but there was none to save; they cried to the LORD, but He did not answer them." The word now is, "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
So can a believer pray these words as his own? Kelly lists this passage among the psalms that cannot be prayed that way without twisting God's word.
Yet it is reasonable to suppose that no believer has ever used them this way, in private or in public, without meeting difficulties he cannot answer. To escape them, he is always at risk of "accommodating" and perverting God's word. Compare Psalm 18:37-42. So earthly judicial righteousness is always the atmosphere here. It is not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel and pray, worship and walk.
That does not make the psalm wrong. It makes it a psalm for another day.
- Voice. David sings, but the words go past him. From verse 37 the speaker is judging for God, and the past tense marks prophecy that is certain, not history.
- Strength. He pierces His enemies so that they cannot rise, yet He credits God with arming Him for the battle. He conquers in dependence, as meek a Conqueror as in His life of grace.
- Timing. The scene belongs to the day of the Lord, when Messiah comes again. Its dark dawn of judgment opens into blessing for the remnant of His mercy.
- Contrast. Then He seeks the necks of His enemies. Now He seeks their hearts, and the word to them is that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.
- Use. Christians misread the verse when they pray it as their own. Its air is earthly judicial righteousness; the believer now walks and worships in grace.
And thou girdedst me with strength to battle; thou didst subdue under me those that rose up against me.
Psalm 18 is David's song of praise after God rescued him from every enemy. At verse 39 the singer looks back at his victories and hands the credit away. God supplied the strength for the fight. Commentators read the line on two levels at once: the real battles of a real king, and the far larger conquest of the King who comes after him.
One writer ties the song to the campaigns recorded in Chronicles, and adds that its words reach further than anything David saw:
In 1 Chronicles 18, 19 and 20 David, already delivered from all internal conflict in Israel, triumphs over the nations and spreads the glory of Israel and of his reign on every side. These are the events which occasioned Psalm 18, although it has a more extended meaning (compare Ps. 18:36-45).
The verse has two verbs, and God is the subject of both. Why is a victory still to come written in the past tense?
From verse 37 to 44 we see Him actually judging for God. It is prophecy, with the past tense used as though the judgment had already happened. The Lord Jesus accomplishes the victory fully, yet He credits God with having armed Him with strength for the battle (v. 39) and with subduing under Him all who oppressed Him.
Power and dependence meet in the same person:
Notice this: though God clothed Him with strength, we see Christ as the dependent man, and on earth, whether suffering or victorious.
Why does the kingdom arrive by battle and not by preaching? One writer traces it to the order of two reigns, David's and Solomon's:
The way this comes about is not, as one might think, by the preaching of the gospel of peace. It must be the "effect of righteousness," and the phase of the kingdom like David's must come before the phase like Solomon's. So we return to see Him as the warrior-King. His hands are trained for war. The shield of God's salvation covers Him so that nothing can pierce it, and God's strong right hand holds Him up.
Subduing is not the end of the story. The psalm moves from conquest to nations coming in:
The psalmist, inspired by the Holy Spirit, looks forward to the day when this supremacy will be shown. Then the Lord Jesus, David's Son and David's Lord, will have taken His great power. He will reign over all, with all His enemies made the footstool of His feet: "… You have delivered me from the strivings of the people; you have made me the Head of the nations; a people I did not know serves me. At the hearing of the ear they obey me; strangers come cringing to me" (Psalm 18:39-44).
One writer presses the contrast with the present by asking two questions:
"You have given me the necks of my enemies, that I might destroy those who hate me." Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is it to save them, or to destroy them, that is His present object? "They cried, but there was none to save them, even to the Lord, but He did not answer them." The word now is, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved." How contrary all this is to the grace in which He is now acting, and to the spirit He asks of His people, who are to pray for their persecutors and to love their enemies!
There is still something for the believer in the picture of girding:
Girding is the application of truth to the soul — the close dealing of the word with the will, with the movements of the heart. This is arming for conflict in a very practical and effective way. But it must be done in the presence of God before we meet the enemy… It braces up the affections, the whole inner man, for Christ and for the things of Christ. When the heart clings to the Lord as the garment clings to the waist under the tight belt, the enemy cannot reach the gates of the soul.
- Girded. God fastens on the strength for the fight, so the victory is won in His power, not the fighter's own.
- Dependent. The winner is the dependent man — victorious and leaning on God in the same breath.
- Ordered. Righteousness comes before peace: the warrior-King's work comes before the peaceful reign.
- Widening. The subduing of enemies opens into rule over nations, with strangers submitting to Him.
- Timed. Today He seeks hearts, not necks — this psalm's judgment belongs to a coming day, not to how believers treat opponents now.
And mine enemies didst thou make to turn their backs unto me, and those that hated me I destroyed.
David's song of triumph reaches its high point here, with the enemies who once hunted him beaten and handed over. But the words are harsh, and they raise a question: do such words belong on Christian lips, or do they point past David to a day still ahead?
The writers here quote an older wording: "You have given me the necks of my enemies." The ESV renders the same line as enemies turning their backs. Either way, the king does not seize them. God hands them over. Commentators read the stiff neck as a picture of broken rebellion, and they tie the passage to the coming triumph of Christ, not to David alone.
The Lord Jesus wins the victory in full, yet He gives God the credit for arming Him with strength for the battle (v. 39), and for putting under Him all who oppressed Him. God had given the Lord Jesus necks that had stiffened themselves in stubborn rebellion, and the Lord destroyed such enemies (v. 40). "They cried out" but to whom? Men who never pray may pray when terrible trouble comes. They may even cry to the Lord they have always hated. But their cry is not repentance. How could they expect the One they hate to answer them? (v. 41).
Writing on the parallel song in 2 Samuel, the same commentator names the character in which the victor speaks.
He speaks as Son of Man, fully dependent on His God and carrying out God's will.
The verse reads as though the fighting is already over. One writer says the tense is prophetic.
From verse 37 to 44 He is seen actually judging for God. It is prophetic: the past tense is used as though the judgment were already done.
Another writer names the moment this belongs to.
What is presented here is the bringing in of the day of the Lord, by the second coming of the Messiah. That day will begin in a terrible way. But for the remnant He shows mercy to, its dark dawn of judgment will open into the clear shining of the Sun of righteousness. That comes when the spirit of judgment and the spirit of burning have finished their appointed work of cleansing.
Why read a war psalm as Christ's at all? One writer answers that first, then turns the verse into questions about today.
The triumphs and glories Psalm 18 records are, in their full extent, those of David's offspring, the promised Messiah. Paul quotes verse 49 as referring to Christ (Rom. 15:9). How, then, does the psalm describe the start of His glorious reign? "You have given Me the necks of My enemies, that I might destroy those who hate Me." Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is it to save them, or to destroy them, that He is after now? "They cried, but there was no one to save them, even to the Lord, but He did not answer them." The word now is, "Whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
That last line reads in the ESV, "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
The psalm does not end with destruction. One writer follows it on to the place the victor takes afterwards.
He comes out of the trial to be acknowledged as King of Israel and Head of the nations. "Strangers come cringing to [Him]" (v. 45). God avenges Him and brings the peoples under Him (v. 47). He lifts Him up above those who rose up against Him.
So may Christians pray this way today? One writer draws a clear line between Israel's day and ours.
We would never say that the Psalms are wrong. This is what marked out the saints in Israel long ago, and it will mark them again when the former rule returns in greater glory in the day of the Lord... But God has called us out meanwhile from Jews and Gentiles, and we make up the one body of Christ. Our privilege and our duty are to show His grace. He suffered for us, leaving us an example so that we should follow His steps.
The same writer shows the damage done when readers treat Israel's enemies as the church's.
Suppose Judah and Israel, Zion and Jerusalem, point to the church. Then men can logically conclude that the righteous destruction of the enemies, the wicked, and so on, justifies the unchristian and unholy work of the inquisition, and the punishment of people for wrong belief, even to death.
- Given — The king does not seize the necks. God hands them over, and the victor credits God with arming Him for the battle.
- Broken — The neck stands for stubborn rebellion. What God destroys is a hardened refusal to bow.
- Delayed — The past tense is prophetic. The scene belongs to the day of the Lord, whose dark opening of judgment gives way to clear light for those He spares.
- Different — Christ is not seeking necks today, but hearts. The word now is that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. The cry in verse 41 comes too late.
- Beyond — Judgment is not the destination. Beaten enemies open the way for Christ as King of Israel and Head of the nations, with the peoples under Him.
They cried, and there was none to save; -- unto Jehovah, and he answered them not.
The cry in this verse belongs to the enemies, not to the psalmist. Desperate men call out, and even call on the LORD, and nothing comes back — so when does God stop answering, and why?
This psalm looks back on the day David was finally clear of Saul and every other enemy. But his own history is too small a frame for the words he sings.
We have now reached David's final deliverance. All his enemies, Saul among them, have disappeared. David was a prophet. His prophetic songs grow out of his own experiences, but they would not have been prophetic if Christ were not their object. In his experiences David reflects Christ, and that is an immense privilege. But it is only a faint light, a small copy of the perfect Model.
So how far ahead does the psalm look?
His own history and salvation are not all that the psalm celebrates. It really speaks of One greater than he. It looks on to the millennium (verses 44, 45), and to the King's triumph shown in full — but only after His resurrection has taken place (Psalm 16:10)... And verses 43-45 were clearly not exhausted in the history of David.
The verse speaks in the past tense about something still to come. One writer explains that, then asks who these people are calling to.
From verse 37 to verse 44 the Lord is seen actually judging for God. It is prophetic: the past tense is used as though the judgment had already happened. Can there be the least doubt, then, that it will take place just as God foretells it? ... "They cried out" — but to whom? Men who never pray may pray when terrible trouble comes. They may even call on the LORD, whom they have always hated. But their cry is not one of repentance, and how could they expect the enemy they hate to answer them? (v. 41).
The silence is not absence. God is present in the scene — on the other side of it.
The terrified armies of wickedness send up a cry to heaven, but there is no one to answer. The only One who could save them is now urging on His messengers of wrath to destroy them (Proverbs 1:25-28; 29:1).
One writer is careful to mark off which judgment this is.
How complete and how withering the judgment of the ungodly will be on that day, when God rises up to shake the earth terribly. This is not the Great White Throne judgment. It is the earlier judgment of the nations, before the millennium... The judgment of the nations spoken of here is not a judgment of people one by one, as the Great White Throne is. It is a judgment of nations as nations, though people in those nations will certainly share in the horror of the judgment.
One writer sets this verse against the message going out today.
Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is His present object to save them, or to destroy them? — "They cried for help, but there was none to save; they cried to the LORD, but He did not answer them." — The word now is, "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
One writer warns what it costs to leave it too late.
What crushing conviction will then take hold of the soul that finds itself too late! It will be willing, but too late; wishing, but too late; wanting, but too late; weeping, but too late; praying, but too late; pleading, but too late. Oh, how dreadful!
Can a Christian pray words like these?
One may fairly suppose that no believer has ever used them this way, in private and in public, without coming face to face with difficulties he cannot answer. To escape them he is always in danger of the evil of "accommodating" and twisting God's word. Compare... Psalm 18:37-42... So the air of these psalms is always earthly judicial righteousness, not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel, to pray, to worship and to walk.
- Occasion — the psalm starts with David's rescue from Saul and all his enemies. But its words reach past David to Christ, whom David only faintly reflects.
- Cry — the enemies do call, and they even call on the LORD. But this is terror speaking, not repentance, so the God they have always hated does not answer.
- Silence — heaven is not deaf. The only One who could save them is sending the judgment that is falling on them.
- Timing — this points to a coming judgment of the nations, before the millennium. It is not the Great White Throne, which judges people one by one.
- Today — the word going out now is the reverse of this verse: "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved." So call while the answer is still there, and do not leave it too late.
And I did beat them small as dust before the wind; I did cast them out as the mire of the streets.
David sang this psalm after God rescued him from his enemies. It reaches its peak here: the foes who once towered over him are ground to powder and thrown out like street mud. Commentators read the line on two levels. There are David's own battles, and there is a far larger day of reckoning still ahead. They also ask how a reader today should handle such words.
The psalm grew out of a real campaign. David had settled his conflicts at home and then turned outward.
In 1 Chronicles 18, 19 and 20 David, already delivered from all internal conflict in Israel, triumphs over the nations, and spreads the glory of Israel and of his reign on every side. These are the events that gave rise to Psalm 18, although its meaning reaches further (compare Ps. 18:36-45).
The two pictures are not decoration. Dust is what a human being is made of, and street mud is what gets thrown out.
But they are too late. God's patience with their folly comes to an end and the judgment upon them is swift and complete: they are beaten as fine as the dust of the earth. They return to the dust from which they came, reduced to total humiliation.
The line just before this one records a cry for help. That cry was real, but it was not repentance.
"They cried out" — but to whom? Men who never pray may pray when terrible trouble comes. They may even cry "to the Lord" whom they have always hated. But their cry is not one of repentance. How could they expect their hated enemy to answer them? (v. 41).
Not every judgment in the Bible is the same event. One writer separates this one from the last judgment of all people.
How complete, how withering will be the judgment of the ungodly in that day when God rises to shake the earth terribly! This is not the Great White Throne judgment. It is the earlier judgment of the nations, before the millennium… The judgment of the nations spoken of here is not the judgment of people one by one, as the Great White Throne is. It is the judgment of nations as such, though people in those nations will certainly share in the horror of that judgment.
The same writer explains why the psalm speaks of the crushing as already done.
From verse 37 to 44 the Lord Jesus is seen actually judging for God. It is prophetic: the past tense is used as though the judgment had already happened. Can there be the least doubt that it will take place just as God foretells it?… This contemplates the latter part of the Great Tribulation.
The verse is not the end of the psalm. What follows the destruction is rule, and nations streaming into obedience.
So we learn, as we do from all the prophetic writings, that the Lord will deliver His people through unsparing judgments. After He has poured out His wrath on their oppressors, He will set up His throne. Then all kings will fall down before Him, and all nations will serve Him.
So what is Christ doing at this moment? One writer sets the psalm's language beside the answer.
Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is it to save them, or to destroy them, that is His present object? — "They cried, but there was none to save them, even to the Lord, but He did not answer them." — The word now is, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
So the Psalms are not wrong. But they belong to a calling that is not ours.
Far be it from me to say that the Psalms are not right. This is what marked out the saints in Israel of old. It will mark them again in their midst when the former dominion comes still more gloriously in the day of the Lord… But we are called out meanwhile from Jews and Gentiles, and we make up the one body of Christ. We have the privilege and the duty of showing the grace of Him who suffered for us, who left us an example that we should follow His steps… He is rejected by the world and exalted at God's right hand, and He sends the gospel to His foes, all through the time of our calling.
- Occasion. David's victories over the surrounding nations gave rise to the psalm. But its meaning runs well past David.
- Cry. This verse follows a cry for help. That cry was terror, not repentance — men calling on a God they had always hated.
- Crushing. Dust and street mud picture total humiliation. The enemies return to the dust they came from, and God throws them out.
- Timing. This is the judgment of the nations before the millennium, not the last judgment of people one by one. The past tense marks it as certain.
- Crown. The crushing is not the end. Wrath on the oppressors clears the ground for a throne. Meanwhile the word going out to His enemies is still an offer of salvation.
Thou hast delivered me from the strivings of the people; thou hast made me the head of the nations a people I knew not doth serve me.
David's song of deliverance ends with a scene far larger than his own battles. Strife at home is over, foreign peoples fall into line, and a people he never knew comes into his service. Commentators read it on two levels: what happened to David, and what will happen to David's greater Son.
The wording tracks real events in David's reign. First the revolt at home ended. Then victory came abroad.
In the third part of the Psalm (verses 31-51) David celebrates what God had done for him. God answered him. He delivered him "from strife with the people" (which corresponds to 2 Samuel 20 in David's history), and He made him "head of the nations", whom he had conquered (v. 43). The Ammonites, the Philistines, the Syrians and Edom all had to bow beneath his yoke. But how all this speaks to us of One greater than David! He comes out of the trial to be acknowledged as King of Israel and Head of the nations.
The middle line of the verse pushes readers past the history. That place was never David's.
He becomes the head of the nations. The words "you made me the head of the nations" cannot apply to David and his experience. It is David's Son and David's Lord who will head the nations of the earth.
One writer takes the verse clause by clause. He finds three steps: rejection undone by resurrection, then Lordship over all, then Israel brought back.
The forty-third verse applies exclusively to Messiah Himself. It recites, first, His deliverance from the opposition of sinners. That was the striving of the people who were called by His name, yet had sold themselves to do the evil of rejecting Him. They struck the Judge of Israel on the cheek. His resurrection was the accomplishment of this. Secondly, it declares His exaltation as Head of the nations and Lord of all. The present testimony of the gospel announces Him in this way (Rom. 10:12). The message of His grace now addresses the creatures of His power (Col. 1:16, 23). But thirdly, the last clause of this verse seems to point to the returning obedience of Israel. He has long disowned them, and He still hides His face from the house of Jacob (Isa. 8:17). But they will then find salvation by calling on His name.
Commentators differ here. The reading above hears Israel coming back. Others hear the nations coming in. They point to this line as an early promise that God would bless the Gentiles while He disowned Israel.
The same living oracles are no less explicit that divine mercy would visit and bless the Gentiles during His disowning of Israel. (See Deut. 32:21; Ps. 18:43, 49; Isa. 8:16-17; Isa. 9:1; Isa. 49:6; Isa. 65:1; Hosea 1:10.)
On the second reading, the order matters. The nations do not serve first and then God acts; God acts for His people, and the nations follow.
It prefigures the conversion of the Gentiles. That conversion follows Jehovah's intervention to rescue His people and to judge their enemies… So we learn, as from all the prophetic writings, that the Lord will deliver His people through unsparing judgments. After He has poured out His wrath on their oppressors, He will set up His throne. Then all kings will fall down before Him, and all nations will serve Him.
Paul quotes this psalm of Christ. Yet the psalm wins the nations by judgment, and that is not how the gospel works now.
The Psalmist wrote this as a hymn of praise for the deliverances God granted him. Yet the triumphs and glories it records belong, in their full extent, to David's Seed, the promised Messiah. Paul quotes verse 49 — "Therefore I will praise you among the Gentiles, and sing to your name" — and applies it directly to Christ (Rom. 15:9). How, then, does it describe the opening of His glorious reign? "You have given me the necks of my enemies, that I might destroy those who hate me." Is Christ now seeking the necks of His enemies, or their hearts? Is His present aim to save them, or to destroy them? … The word now is, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
- Rescue first. The verse begins where David's story did. God ended the strife among his own people — a picture of the rejected Messiah raised out of death.
- Then rule. "Head of the nations" was never David's place. Commentators read it of David's Son, exalted as Lord of all.
- Then reach. A people never known comes into His service. Some read this as Israel restored after long disowning. Others read it as the nations blessed while God sets Israel aside.
- Order matters. God first delivers His people and judges their oppressors. Then He sets up His throne, and the nations bow.
- Not yet this way. Paul applies the psalm to Christ. But today He seeks hearts, not necks: everyone who calls on the Lord's name will be saved.
At the hearing of the ear, they obey me strangers come cringing unto me.
Psalm 18 is a long war-song, and it ends in surrender. Nations who have never met the king bow the moment his name reaches them — so who is this king, and how real is that obedience?
Commentators read the psalm as David's own thanksgiving that outgrows David. One writer points to the New Testament's own use of the closing verses as the proof.
Psalm 18 makes known God's goodness "to His anointed, to David and to his seed for ever more." It was written as a hymn of praise for the rescues God gave to the Psalmist himself. Yet the triumphs and glories it records belong, in their full extent, to David's Seed, the promised Messiah. And Paul quotes verse 49 — the thanks given to Jehovah among the Gentiles, and the praise sung to His name — as directly referring to Christ. (Rom. 15:9.)
The title in the verse before points the same way. David never held such a place.
"You have made me the head of the nations" cannot apply to David and his own experience. It is David's Son and David's Lord who will head the nations of the earth. Verse 44 describes the coming kingdom.
Verse 43 sets the people apart from the nations, and that distinction carries into verse 44. Read in order, the groups move outward from Israel to the world.
Three groups appear here. First the people: He is delivered from their strivings. Then the nations: He is made their head. Then a people not known before, with whom He had never been in relationship as He was with Israel; they will serve Him. Submission will be immediate, because His glory and power are so plain by then. And even where there is no sincerity, or at least no proof of it, they will at once serve, bowing down to Him. This is the beginning of what belongs to the thousand-year reign.
The words "as soon as they heard of me" carry the weight. A report reaches them, and they bow.
Older translations carried a margin note here reading "yield feigned obedience," and much of the commentary turns on it. One writer describes the people it fits.
Those who yield feigned obedience are people who have no heart for Messiah and are afraid to do anything else; and they do this as nations.
If that is right, the verse explains something that happens a thousand years later. Submission that was never inward finally shows what it always was.
The marginal reading is suggestive: "they will yield feigned obedience to Me." That tells us the obedience of many during the kingdom reign of our Lord will not be whole-hearted. Hence the revolt at the end of the thousand years (Rev. 20).
Not every nation is play-acting. Commentators find a range of responses at the end.
All this shows us that the nations will be of quite different kinds at the time of the end. Some will be broken with a rod of iron and forced to submit. Others will put on an appearance of submission, as it is said: "Strangers come cringing to me" [that is, they render forced or feigned obedience]. And others still — a great multitude that no man will be able to number (Rev. 7:9-10) — will submit to Christ's yoke, accepting His victory as their deliverance.
Commentators differ on how much weight the "feigned obedience" reading can bear. One writer argues that readers have pressed it too far and spoiled their picture of Christ's reign.
There is an expression in the Psalms with a margin reading that, I believe, has been badly misread, so as to run down the whole character of the millennial reign of Christ… "They shall submit themselves," and "as soon as they hear of me," would have carried no false sense. The false sense seems to come entirely from the alternative put in the margin. As Delitzsch says, the word is "often used of the enforced submission of the conquered." "Come cringing" is Driver's and J.N.D.'s rendering of it. It describes the effect of the Lord's coming in warrior judgment.
The same writer sets this scene against the present hour.
How perfectly this agrees with what is told elsewhere about the sudden setting up of Christ's worldwide rule by the judgment and desolation of His enemies! But how contrary it is to the grace in which He is now acting, and to the spirit He requires of His people, who are to pray for their persecutors and to love their enemies!
- Victory — The psalm's closing triumphs belong in full to David's Seed. Paul quotes verse 49 of Christ.
- Headship — Head of the nations is a place David never held. Verse 44 describes the coming kingdom.
- Report — They bow the moment they hear, because His glory and power are plain by then. A people He never knew becomes His people.
- Cringing — The word means the forced submission of the defeated. Some bow with no heart for Messiah, afraid to do anything else.
- Aftermath — Half-hearted obedience explains the revolt at the end of the thousand years. Yet a countless multitude will accept His victory as their deliverance — and none of this is the grace in which Christ acts today.
Strangers have faded away, and they come trembling forth from their close places.
Psalm 18 ends David's song of deliverance with foreign nations losing heart and coming out of their fortresses in fear. Commentators read this as a picture of a future day. It raises a hard question: when fear makes people submit, has the King really won them?
The psalm belongs to David's own wars. Yet one writer sees its language reach past David to a greater King.
How all this speaks to us of One who is greater than David! He comes forth from the trial to be acknowledged as King of Israel and Head of the nations. "Foreigners came cringing to Him." God avenges Him and brings the peoples under Him. He lifts Him up above those who rose up against Him.
One writer traces the word behind "fortresses" through its other uses.
The word means, first of all, an enclosure. So it can mean a fortress or "close place," as in Psalm 18:45. It is also used in Micah 7:17, where it is translated "hole." An enclosure is there to keep out intruders, by a wall or some other barricade.
The psalm has just said foreigners came cringing to the King. An older margin note reads those words differently.
The marginal rendering is more accurate: "shall yield to me feigned obedience." They are afraid before the display of Messiah's power. They also worry about what rebellion would cost them. So they offer their allegiance while still hating Him in their hearts.
One writer places this bowing of nations next to the judgment of the nations in Matthew 25. He keeps the two apart.
Those who yield feigned obedience have no heart for Messiah. They are afraid to do anything else. And this is national. The sheep in Matthew are the individual results of the preaching of the kingdom. Their judgment turns only on the way they received the messengers. There is a war judgment (Revelation 19:11), and a judgment from the throne. In Psalm 18 they bow under power to the throne. Matthew 25 is individual moral judgment when He has the throne.
The same writer sorts the nations at the end into more than one kind.
All this shows us that the nations will have quite varied characters at the time of the end. Some will be broken with a rod of iron and forced to submit. Others will put on an appearance of submission, as it is said: "Foreigners came cringing to me." And still others will submit themselves to Christ's yoke, accepting His victory as their deliverance. These last are not one isolated case like Toi, but a great multitude which no one will be able to number.
Forced bowing does not hold. One writer follows it to its end.
It would appear that some will bow falsely, only because they stand in the presence of a power they cannot withstand. It was so with some in the early days of Solomon's kingdom (1 Kings 1). Such people will be only too ready to listen to Satan's suggestions when he goes free for a little while at the end (Revelation 20:7-9). So will others, perhaps born during the Lord's reign. What is man! Grace does not attract him; and even glory will not permanently convince him!
One writer quotes an older wording of verse 40, where the King is given the necks of His enemies. (The ESV reads, "You made my enemies turn their backs to me.") He then asks what Christ seeks today.
"You have given Me the necks of My enemies, that I might destroy those who hate Me." Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is it to save them, or to destroy them, that is His present object? … The word now is, "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
- Power. Foreigners lose heart and come trembling out of their fortresses. A greater Son of David is Head of the nations, and no fortress holds against Him.
- Pretence. An older margin reads their submission as "feigned obedience." They offer allegiance while they still hate Him.
- Place. A "close place" is an enclosure or fortress, the same word translated "hole" in Micah 7:17. The wall they built to keep others out cannot keep them in.
- Mixture. Commentators name three groups at the end. Some nations are forced to submit. Some only pretend. A countless multitude takes His victory as their own deliverance.
- Invitation. Pretended loyalty breaks down when Satan goes free at the end. Christ is not seeking necks today, but hearts: "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved."
Jehovah liveth; and blessed be my rock; and exalted be the God of my salvation,
Psalm 18 ends the way it began — with praise — and this verse is the hinge of that closing burst. Three short cries stand side by side: God lives, God is a rock, God is to be exalted. Commentators read them as David's own praise after rescue, and as words that reach far beyond him.
The first cry is not a piece of theory. It is a shout against a world that has written God off. One writer sets it in an age still to come, when that noise stops.
How fitting that the psalm closes with praise to God! Such praise will continue all through the millennial age. What a contrast to the foolish nonsense that comes now from men's lips — that God is dead! "The Lord lives" will be the vibrant, triumphant cry of the people (v. 46). "Blessed be my Rock! Let the God of my salvation be exalted." So Christ brings back to God the honour men have tried to strip from Him. Christ is the living witness to the greatness and authority of the living God.
How can anyone know that God lives? One writer answers with an event. He comments on this song as it stands in 2 Samuel 22, where this verse is numbered 47.
Verses 47 to 51 give a final summary of the victory of God for the Man of His counsels. "The Lord lives!" How magnificently this is proven in the resurrection of Christ! "Blessed be my Rock," the solid, unchanging, dependable foundation of all blessing. "Let God be exalted." The resurrection of the Lord Jesus has magnified God as "the rock of my salvation." God has avenged Him of His enemies. He will also subdue all the peoples under Him. His resurrection is the promise of this.
The word "rock" carries more than the English shows. One writer goes back to the Hebrew and finds a hollow in the rock — a place to hide inside.
Hebrew scholars tell us that the proper translation of "The LORD is my Rock" is "Jehovah, my cleft of the rock." Christ is the rock, cleft for us. In Him the believer has found His refuge. And He Himself was saved from His enemies. In Him His people are saved, and will be saved, from their enemies (verse 3).
David's rescues did not make God a rock; they showed He always was one. So the psalm ends where it began.
Like the song of Moses, the song of David begins and ends with God. Every true song must. "From Him and through Him and to Him are all things"; and there can be no true joy that does not recognise the truth of this. In the changing tide of things here, God alone is what His name Jehovah declares — the One who abides. If the permanence of natural laws alone saves us from confusion of mind and uncertainty in all we do, then faith's settled confidence and security is this: God is a rock. The rescues of a lifetime only underline that assurance again. The refuge remains ours while the storm still rages.
The title in this verse is not new. The psalm names salvation again and again, each time from a different angle. Here the Speaker lifts up the God behind them all.
The beautiful psalm in 2 Samuel 22 describes the Messiah entering the dark path of the sorrows of His beloved people, to take them up on His own person. He well knew what those sorrows meant. He is able to save for ever all who come to God by Him. He calls His God "the horn of my salvation" (v. 3), that is, the power of it. Further, He says, "You have given me the shield of Your salvation." Salvation is there thrown round Him, and us in Him (v. 36). In verse 47 He exalts "the rock of my salvation," and in verse 51 "He is the tower of salvation for His king."
The last five verses compress the psalm into a list of titles. They do not stop at rescue.
The last five verses give praise to God, in the same character as at the start of the psalm. They sum up in brief the mercies the psalm has recounted. He is the living and unchanging God, the Rock of faith, the Saviour. He is the avenging Judge, who subdues the peoples. He is the God of resurrection, who lifts up above all enemies. For this reason He is praised among the nations.
- Lives — "The LORD lives" answers a generation that says God is dead. One day it will be the triumphant cry of a whole people.
- Raised — the resurrection of Christ proves it. That resurrection magnified God as the rock of salvation, and pledges that He will subdue every enemy.
- Rock — the word means a cleft in the rock. Not just firmness, but a hollow to hide in, and the unchanging foundation of all blessing.
- Saved — the psalm calls salvation a horn, a shield, a rock and a tower. This verse exalts the God behind all four.
- Exalted — the song begins and ends with God. The rescues of a lifetime prove again that He abides, and His praise spreads among the nations.
The God who hath avenged me, and hath subjected the peoples to me;
David ends his long song of rescue by giving God the credit for two things a king might have claimed for himself: paying back his enemies, and bringing nations under him. Who is really speaking here? What does "peoples" mean? And what does a verse about vengeance leave a reader to do?
The psalm sings of David's own deliverance. But its closing verses reach past anything David lived to see, and one writer reads the triumph as belonging to a greater King.
David's own history and rescue are not all that the Psalm celebrates. It really speaks of One greater than he. It looks ahead to the days of the millennial kingdom (44, 45), and to the full triumph of the King — but only after His resurrection (16:10). David was delivered on earth before death. The Lord will appear triumphant as the risen One.
El, in the lines below, is a name for God. Verse 47 is not a one-off rescue. It shows how God runs His world: the same perfection marks His own way and the way He makes for His King.
The way of El is perfect in holy supremacy over evil. He makes the way of His King just as perfect: avenging Him, putting the peoples under Him, and rescuing Him from the man of violence. This is the way of government.
The word behind "peoples" is worth pinning down, because English translations have often blurred it. Hebrew has different words for Israel, for the nations around Israel, and for the nations set against God's people.
Am in the singular usually means Israel. Ammim in the plural means "peoples." The King James Version very often translates this wrongly as "people," I suppose because "peoples" is not correct English. But the sense is quite different. I believe the ammim are the peoples connected with Israel, brought into relationship with Israel. Goim, by contrast, are the nations set over against God's people… Psalm 18:47 has ammim.
So the verse is not a general boast over humanity. It speaks of the nations drawn into Israel's orbit, bowed under Israel's King.
If the psalm's full sense belongs to Messiah, then God has not yet done the subduing this verse describes. One writer links the waiting of the ascended Christ to this line. He reads its praise as praise for a vindication God carries out Himself.
The ascended Christ still waits for His enemies to become His footstool. The power of God will have bowed them before Him (47)… So this passage gives praise to God as the avenger of Immanuel's rightful claim (47). He had subdued the nations under Him, according to the decree declared long before (Ps. 2:7-8).
Vengeance is here God's action, and commentators press that it stays God's. Knowing Him as the one who avenges is not permission to hope He will avenge on our behalf.
Knowing God as the avenger of His people's wrongs is not meant to stir the smallest wish in our hearts that His vengeance would fall on our enemies. We must watch against that as a secret desire… The right to clear the innocent and to punish the guilty belongs to the Lord alone.
Others go further. They ask whether a Christian can sing such lines at all, and they list this very verse among their examples.
The Christian is told, by example and by command, to pray for his enemies and to repay them good for evil. How then can he take such words on his lips? And this is by no means a single case. Passages all through the book are completely unsuitable for the lips of a Christian, though they fit the age they have in view. Here are some of them: Ps. 2:9; Ps. 3:7… Ps. 18:47-48.
- Vengeance — the verse gives both the avenging and the subduing to God. That right stays with Him, and never passes to us.
- Government — this is God's settled way of ruling, perfect in His own path and in the path He makes for His King.
- Peoples — the Hebrew ammim means the nations linked to Israel, not people in general.
- King — the psalm starts from David's rescue but reaches to a greater King, triumphant as the risen One.
- Waiting — this subjection is still ahead. The ascended Christ waits, and God will bow His enemies before Him.
Who hath delivered me from mine enemies yea, thou hast lifted me up above them that rose up against me; from the man of violence hast thou delivered me.
David's song ends where it began, with the LORD as rescuer, and this verse names three things at once: rescue from enemies, lifting above them, and deliverance from "the violent man." Commentators ask who that man is, and whether David's escape from Saul is the whole story.
David really was saved from Saul. One writer says the way this psalm tells that rescue points far past Saul himself.
2 Samuel 22 shows us that David sang this psalm at a fitting time. I mentioned this above, but I press it again here: what a proof it gives that certain pieces of history are pictures of something greater. The way this psalm tells of David's rescue from the hand of Saul shows us plainly that another and far more magnificent deliverance was in view through it.
Commentators differ. One writer reads the phrase as the antichrist, defeated on the day God avenges Christ.
It will be clear then that it is God who avenges the Lord Jesus and subdues the nations under Him (v. 47). All who rise against Him will find Him lifted high above them. God will deliver Him from "the violent man," the antichrist, and Christ will completely overthrow him (v. 48).
Another writer disagrees. He points to the next line of the psalm: the praise that follows goes out among the nations, not among the Jews.
I do not see the Antichrist here. The only word that might seem to speak of him is in verse 48 — the man of violence; but I take it he is an enemy from outside. That is why he praises among the nations. The destruction of Antichrist would make him praise among the Jews.
God rescues a sinner from judgment one way. He rescues a sufferer from an oppressor another way. This verse belongs to the second kind.
Deliverance from "the violent man" will not be so much in grace as in righteousness. God delivers the sinner only in grace, through atonement — from the curse of the accuser, the penalty of sin, and the just judgment of the law. The same holds for the Israel of God in the coming day when they repent. But in conflict with the enemy, they will be righteous as David was with Saul. They will suffer as martyrs or as righteous ones, and God will deliver them as such.
The verse says "you delivered me." The one who speaks does not rescue Himself.
Here it should be noted that, though God clothes Him with strength, Christ is seen as the dependent man, on earth, whether suffering or victorious.
This rescue reaches beyond the one rescued. Another writer follows the psalm past the deliverance itself to the nations.
In Psalm 18, after a description of Messiah's victory over His foes, we read that God delivered Him from strife with the people and made Him the head of the nations. A people He had not known will serve Him, and will obey Him as soon as they hear of Him. … We learn, therefore, as from all the prophetic writings, that the Lord will deliver His people through unsparing judgments. After He has poured out His wrath on their oppressors, He will establish His throne. Then all kings will fall down before Him, and all nations will serve Him.
The verse tells of rescue. One commentator points past rescue to what comes next.
And so this psalm tells us what Paul teaches in Romans 8: "those whom he justified he also glorified." The Lord does not, and cannot, stop at mere deliverance. He goes on to complete His goodness in the kingdom.
The psalm asks God to remove an oppressor from the earth. One writer marks the difference between that hope and the Christian's.
The Jew has his portion on the earth, for the meek will inherit the earth and delight themselves in abundant peace. So he looks for God to remove the violent and deceitful man, so that he himself may have comfort and rest. Not so the Christian. He leaves the violent man here and goes to heaven. As to his personal walk, he walks in the time of grace, and leaves it for glory.
- Rescue — David's escape from Saul is real history. The psalm tells it in a way that shows a far greater deliverance behind it.
- Righteousness — God delivers from the violent man on the ground of righteousness, not the grace that saves a sinner from judgment.
- Reach — the one lifted above his attackers becomes head of the nations. Peoples who never knew Him come to serve Him.
- Rule — God never stops at rescue. He completes it in the kingdom: "those whom he justified he also glorified."
- Response — commentators differ: is the violent man the antichrist, or an enemy from outside? Either way, the Christian leaves such a man behind and goes to heaven.
Therefore will I give thanks to thee, Jehovah, among the nations, and will sing psalms to thy name.
Psalm 18 ends with David looking past Israel's borders. God had rescued him from every enemy, and now he vows to give thanks among the nations. Commentators see more here than David's own gratitude. Paul takes the verse out of the psalm and puts it in the mouth of Christ.
David sang about his own escapes, yet the psalm describes far more than his own story. One writer follows it from the closing words about "his seed" to Paul's use of the verse:
Psalm 18 makes known God's goodness "to His anointed, to David and his offspring forever." It was written as a hymn of praise for the rescues given to the psalmist himself. Yet the triumphs and glories it records are, in their full extent, plainly those of David's Seed, the promised Messiah. Paul quotes the 49th verse as referring directly to Christ (Rom. 15:9). How, then, does it describe the inauguration of His glorious reign? "You have given Me the necks of My enemies, that I might destroy them that hate Me." Is it the necks, or the hearts, of His enemies that Christ is now seeking? Is it to save them, or to destroy them, that is His present object?
The questions expect an answer. The psalm's Messiah puts down His enemies; the Christ preached now is seeking to save them. The line about "the necks of My enemies" comes from an older translation of verse 40. The ESV reads, "You made my enemies turn their backs to me, and those who hated me I destroyed."
The verse opens with "For this" — a conclusion drawn from what came before. The psalm's closing verses gather it up:
The last five verses give praise to God, in the same character as at the start of the psalm, and sum up in short the mercies just recounted. He is the living and unchanging God, the Rock of faith, the Saviour. He is the avenging Judge who subdues the peoples. He is the God of resurrection, and so lifts up above all enemies. For this cause He is praised among the nations.
In Romans 15 Paul shows that God always meant to bless the nations. He proves it from the law, the prophets and the Psalms, and this verse is the first of his four witnesses:
Jesus became a servant to the circumcised for God's truth, to confirm the promises made to the fathers. He came also so that the Gentiles, who had no promises, should glorify God for His mercy. And Paul brings proofs not only from Psalm 18:49 and Psalm 117:1, but from the law (Deut. 32:43) and the prophets (Isa. 11:10).
God's mercy to the nations does not set aside His older promise; it confirms it:
God had promised Abraham that "in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed". To confirm this promise, and others like it made to the fathers, the Lord shows mercy and bears witness to God among the Gentiles.
The praise of the nations arrives in a set order, and judgment comes first:
We learn, as from all the prophetic writings, that the Lord will deliver His people through unsparing judgments. After He has poured out His wrath on their oppressors, He will establish His throne. Then all kings will fall down before Him, and all nations will serve Him.
Commentators differ on how far the verse reaches into the present. One takes it as already fulfilled among believers, with a wider fulfilment still ahead:
This is true now "in the midst of the congregation" of the saints (Ps. 22:22), but in the millennium it will be true among the nations.
Another accepts that use for today, but says the psalm's own scene is different. There God's praise reaches the nations through a blessed Israel:
Verse 49 is well known for the way the apostle applies it to the present time of mercy to the Gentiles (Rom. 15:9)... But this passage is not about Jesus being revealed to the faith of the chosen Gentile church. Its subject is the praise of Jehovah spread among the nations, and that comes through Israel's full blessing under the Messiah.
- Deliverance first. The praise rests on what the psalm has just recounted: God as Rock, Saviour, avenging Judge, and the God of resurrection.
- Therefore, praise. "For this cause He is praised among the nations": the singing is the answer to the rescue, not a separate thought.
- Christ's own words. Paul quotes this verse as the words of Christ. So David's Seed leads the thanks among the nations, not David alone.
- Mercy, not promise. The nations had no promises of their own. They come in as God keeps His word to Abraham and the fathers, and they glorify God for His mercy.
- Reach still widening. Commentators differ on the timing. One hears this praise now among the saints, and among the nations later. Another sees the psalm's own scene as Israel blessed, with the nations blessed through her.
[It is he] who giveth great deliverances to his king, and sheweth loving-kindness to his anointed, to David, and to his seed for evermore.
The psalm ends where David's own story cannot end. He has just sung of rescue from Saul and from death itself. Now he closes with a blessing that runs past his own reign — to his anointed king, to his descendants, and on "forever." So who is this king in the end, and how far does the promise reach?
The words of this psalm refuse to stay inside the events that prompted it. David's rescues are the occasion, not the whole subject.
The book of Samuel tells us that this psalm was sung to celebrate David's rescue from the hand of Saul and of all his enemies. But the language of the psalm clearly does not stop at anything that happened in David's life... The Spirit of God takes the event that matters personally to the man He uses as a prophet, and uses it only as the occasion to open a larger and wider scene. Christ alone can be the centre of that scene, and He gives meaning to the whole.
Another writer reads the closing verse the same way. Its honours are too large for the man who first sang them.
Psalm 18 makes known God's goodness "to His anointed, to David and his offspring forever." It was written as a hymn of praise for the rescues granted to the Psalmist himself. Yet the triumphs and glories it records are clearly, in their full extent, those of David's Seed, the promised Messiah. And Paul quotes verse 49 of this psalm as words that refer to Christ (Rom. 15:9).
The title in this verse is not decoration. Oil poured on the head marked a man out for God's service, and it set kings apart in the same way.
David and all the kings of Judah were anointed (2 Sam. 2:7; 1 Kings 1:34)... Messiah means "the Anointed." "The Lord's anointed" is a regular way of naming the king, and it was the recognised title of our Lord. "Christ" is simply the Greek word for Messiah.
The Hebrew word behind "steadfast love" in this verse is not the pity offered to a guilty person. It describes favour given and enjoyed, and it rests on a covenant.
At the end He works in the power of Jehovah to deliver His people. He is then the full witness of God's mercy (chesed) to His Anointed David and to his offspring forever. Mercy here is not simply the kind we would speak of to sinners. It is favour and grace shown and enjoyed... So the same word names the blessings given to Israel at the end, and indeed to all who enjoy them: "the sure mercies of David." An everlasting covenant confirms them, and, as the apostle shows us, the resurrection of Christ secures them.
The King does not win this victory on His own. God gives it to Him, and He does not keep the blessing to Himself.
God has also given "great salvation" to the King, so that He wins a complete victory over His enemies. This is mercy to God's Anointed, "to David and his offspring forever" (v. 50), for believers (called offspring) share the same blessing that is His for eternity. All of this puts great stress on the real Manhood of Christ. That takes nothing away from His deity. It only makes us marvel more that One took so lowly a place, and yet in Him all the glory of God dwells.
David's own descendants put that "forever" to the test. When Isaiah told King Hezekiah he was about to die, God's answer to him opened by naming David.
Isaiah was to begin his message with the words, "Thus says the LORD, the God of David your father." The message was a promise of longer life and rescue from his enemies. But why the God of David your father? Perhaps Psalm 18 provides the answer... The God of David was to Hezekiah, David's descendant, what He had been to David.
The last line guarantees a throne that stays occupied. The psalm points at this without spelling it out.
The blessing continues "to David and his offspring forever" — the throne kept in the hands that were trusted with it. We know these are safe and blessed hands, and the heart rests when it recognises them. But we read that into the picture from outside; we must go elsewhere to find it.
- Occasion — David's escape from Saul starts the song. But its language runs past David's life to a wider scene centred on Christ.
- Anointed — the title names a king set apart by oil; "Messiah" means the Anointed, and "Christ" is the same word in Greek.
- Mercy — the word means favour given and enjoyed, not pity toward a sinner. These are the "sure mercies of David," held firm by an everlasting covenant and secured by resurrection.
- Given — the King does not win the great salvation alone. God gives it to Him, and believers share the very blessing that is His.
- Forever — the promise outlives the man. It kept Hezekiah, David's descendant, and it guards a throne in safe hands.
(To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David.) The heavens declare the glory of God; and the expanse sheweth the work of his hands.
Psalm 19 calls the sky as its first witness, speaking before the psalm ever names Scripture. Commentators ask what it says, who can hear it, and where its witness stops.
The psalm has two halves. Creation speaks first. From verse 7 the law of the LORD speaks. Each witness has its own subject and its own hearers.
The two witnesses of Psalm 19 still give their testimony, and nothing has spoiled it: (1) "The heavens declare the glory of God"; and (2) "The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul" (v. 7). Both witnesses speak the truth, as far as they go. The first declares God's power and divinity. Everyone alive has this witness testifying to them all the time. So all who do not turn to God are "without excuse" (Rom. 1:20). The second was sent mainly to the nation of Israel. It speaks of the holiness of God and exposes the sinfulness of man, leaving him nowhere to turn for mercy but God.
The psalm points upward, and that choice is deliberate. Man has spoiled everything within his reach. He has not touched the sky.
It is a solemn thought that whatever man has touched he has corrupted. Creation groans wherever man has been. But if I look where man cannot reach, at the moon and the stars, all is glorious… The heavens are spread over all. The sun runs its tireless circuit from one end of the sky to the other. They are the bright, unchanging witnesses of the divine glory, and man's defiling hand cannot reach them.
The name matters here. The sky does not announce God's covenant name. It announces God as God. The name changes in verse 7.
Notice something else, for this Psalm has great depth. The heavens do not declare the glory of Jehovah — that is His covenant name — but of God. The law of Jehovah converts the soul — it is perfect.
If the message is that plain, the failure to receive it needs explaining. One writer argues that people have not misread the evidence. They have thrown it out.
Creation is open to everyone's view, and it is full of signs of God. Evidence of a divine hand at work lies scattered above man and around him. Even the most darkened mind would struggle to escape the conviction that the wisdom and power on display there is nothing less than divine. Yet, widespread, continuous, and eloquent as its testimony is, men have not read God's plain speech in it. And note the charge against man. It is not just a misreading of the evidence. It is a complete rejection of it.
Paul quotes this passage in Romans 10 when he asks whether Israel had heard. The sky preaches without words to the whole world. Paul makes that his picture of a message that crosses every border.
The heavens testified so plainly that only unbelief could claim earth was everything. But Israel boasted so highly in her earthly inheritance that she shut out everyone who was not a Jew. Yet their own Scriptures declared what their eyes saw every day. A heavenly testimony went out into all the earth, and its words to the ends of the world. This heavenly message is only a picture of the blessed worldwide gospel. That gospel is sent from the Son of Man in the heavens. It is not God speaking on earth, but from heaven, and so it is a voice addressed to all men everywhere — Jews and Gentiles.
Creation is enough to leave people without excuse. It tells you that God is. It does not tell you what He is like toward sinners.
Creation should indeed speak, and its voice be heard. What is invisible in the Creator is still seen. The things He has made make it plain — His eternal power and divine nature. They do not show His grace, or truth, or love. They do show infinite power and design, and that leaves people without excuse. Creation declares the power of God. It does not reveal what He is in Himself — His nature. But unless a person shuts his eyes on purpose, it is evidence enough that a Creator-God exists.
A person can study the heavens and still miss what the psalm sees. Faith, not learning, is what sees God's hand.
Those who study the stars may speak of the varied glories of the heavenly bodies. They may tell of their great discoveries. Yet they may never think of Him whose glory is before their eyes… It takes God-given faith to see the hand of God in creation. Scripture says, "By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God" (Heb. 11:3). The youngest child in the family of God knows more about where creation came from than the greatest thinker who does not know God.
- Speaks — The sky is a sermon that never stops. It declares God's eternal power and divine nature to everyone alive.
- Unspoiled — The psalm looks up because whatever man touches he corrupts; the heavens stay beyond his defiling hand.
- Everywhere — This witness reaches every land. So unbelief is not an honest mistake. It throws out the evidence.
- Limited — The sky shows God's power, not His grace, truth or love. For those you must look elsewhere.
- Faith — Telescopes see stars. Faith sees the glory. The youngest believer sees further here than the finest mind without God.
Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.
A testimony runs over every human head without pause. The sky talks, and it never stops talking. So the question is not whether God has spoken to the world. It is why a message sent every day and every night is so easily missed.
Day and night both speak here. One writer traces where this witness began and why nothing has silenced it.
Creation is the earliest witness of God to man. As soon as man fell, he needed something more, and in the mercy of God he found it. If men turned their back on that, or corrupted it with their own folly, the witness of creation still remained, and they could not silence it. The testimony is continuous and progressive. One day adds its tale to that of another, and one night likewise to the one that went before it. Never exhausted, the story never ends. The day has many voices, each subdued by the sheer number of them. It is like a river of speech flowing on and on. The night, with its quiet breathing, speaks in the hush — perhaps more clearly to the more attentive ear.
The psalmist insists on the word "speech." The same writer asks how seriously anyone takes it — skeptic or believer.
So the psalmist gives speech to creation, and he is in earnest about it. He wants us to know that he means every word of this. He says it is "speech" and it is "words" — really that. Words, despite the sneer of the skeptic. Words, despite the dullness of God's own people. Words truly there to be heard by those who listen for them... how much does the average Christian hear of this continual witness to God in the many voices of the day and the night?
Nobody lives outside the range of a message sent every day and every night. Romans draws the conclusion.
Every day and night the voice of creation speaks in unmistakable language (v. 2). If anyone refuses such clear witness, he is ignorant on purpose. He has no excuse. Even the darkest lands that do not know God hear this voice. Romans 1:19-20 implies as much, presenting creation as a clear testimony — a testimony that people realize condemns the sin they indulge in: "So they are without excuse." So there is no place in the world without a testimony from God (v. 4).
This testimony stays clean because of where it is. Man has spoiled everything he can reach. He cannot reach the sky.
It is a solemn thought that whatever man has touched he has corrupted. Creation groans when a man has been there. But if I look where man cannot reach — at the moon, the stars, and so on — all is glorious... The heavens spread over all. The sun goes round in its tireless circuit from one end to the other. Both are bright, unchanging witnesses of the divine glory, above man's defiling hand.
The second half of the verse gives knowledge to the dark hours, not only to the bright ones.
In this psalm we can clearly see that creation, set before us like this, is really God's faithfulness. This is the realm where God's handiwork, His eternal power and divinity, is plain to grasp — unless we are blind, as we naturally are... Verse 2 tells us clearly that this testimony communicates; it passes something on. God draws our attention to the testimony to Himself in the words "Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge." But if there is darkness, God is willing to give light there, a testimony.
The sky's message has a limit. Later the psalm brings in a second witness, and one writer pairs the two, each with its own job.
The two witnesses of Psalm 19 still bear their uncorrupted testimony: (1) "The heavens declare the glory of God"; and (2) "The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul" (v. 7). These witnesses plainly speak the truth according to their measure. The first declares God's power and divinity. The second speaks of the holiness of God and exposes the sinfulness of man. It shuts him up to God alone for mercy. It leaves him without excuse too, if he does not seek that mercy from Him.
- Voice — The testimony grows: each day adds to the last, each night to the night before, and the story never ends.
- Words — The psalmist means "speech." These are real words for anyone who listens, though even God's own people are dull to them.
- Reach — No place on earth is left out. Even the darkest lands that do not know God hear this voice.
- Verdict — The witness is clear. Refusing it is a choice that leaves people without excuse.
- Limit — The heavens declare God's power and divinity. The law does the other job: it exposes sin and shuts man up to God alone for mercy.
There is no speech and there are no words, yet their voice is heard.
Psalm 19 opens with the heavens declaring God's glory. This verse describes how they do it: no syllable, no language, yet a voice that carries. So why do so many people miss it? And what can a wordless witness do?
Translators read the line in two ways. One: there is no place where the voice goes unheard. The other: there is no speech and no words, yet the voice is heard. Either way the point stands. Creation speaks without making a sound.
This testimony of creation goes out to everyone. There is no audible voice, as there was with the prophets. Still, the testimony is there in a silent voice, in the way things are presented. They have no speech, yet the voice of the testimony is heard.
This voice is not a code that only a few can decipher. It reaches everyone, everywhere.
Every day and night the voice of creation speaks in language no one can mistake (v. 2). So if someone refuses such clear witness, he is ignorant by choice: he has no excuse. Even in the darkest places where God is unknown, their voice is heard. Romans 1:19-20 hints at this. There creation stands as a clear testimony, and people realize it condemns the sin they give themselves to, "So they are without excuse." So there is no place in the world that lacks a testimony from God (v. 4).
The point is so plain that it should not need saying at all.
Let us feel the shame, then, of needing to be told something so simple: that nature's speech is meant to be heard. Nature is the witness to everyone, so its teaching is not meant for a select few. It is for all.
Notice which parts of creation the psalm picks out.
Despite the unbelief in man's heart, whether it shows itself in evolution or modernism, the Creation remains. The Psalmist declares, "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims His handiwork". Every part of creation declares the eternal power and divinity of God. Yet it matters a great deal that the inspired writer of Psalm 19 names parts of creation which man has no power to touch or corrupt. He speaks of the unbroken march of day and night, and of the sun's endless circuit. In God's estimate this witness to His power and divinity is so strong and convincing that it leaves men without excuse.
If the signal is that strong, the failure lies with the listener. One writer traces it to what the human heart wants to find.
Now take the witness of nature to the Creator, which we have described as so powerful and so certain. How do we explain how little conviction it produces, the apparent fruitlessness of this line of evidence? Is it not that men's hearts have wanted some other meaning so badly that they have shut their eyes to what it really shows? They will not see the God it points to. They would gladly give anyone or anything but Him the glory for such handiwork... Yet even with this lack of desire for God, these silent witnesses remain, to be accusers if nothing more.
So there is something this silent voice cannot do.
They are signs of God's creative power and goodness, but they leave the soul unconverted. No one can know God for salvation except through the living and lasting word (1 Peter 1:23). That word reveals Christ, and in Him the Father Himself is revealed and glorified, and our need is met... Romans 1 teaches us that the most anyone can learn from looking at creation alone is God's eternal power and Godhead — His creative power. But this does not meet the sinner's need, and it does not display God's grace.
The reach described here later became an image for something else that spreads without borders.
The testimony of creation is a picture of the testimony the gospel now gives, because both go out to all. God had given His testimony, whether man saw it or not.
- Silent. The sky has no audible voice, as the prophets had. Yet its testimony is heard.
- Simple. Its message was never meant for a trained elite. Nature's speech is for everyone.
- Untouchable. The psalm names the parts of creation man cannot corrupt: day, night, the sun's circuit. The witness stands whatever men say about it.
- Refused. Men wanted another meaning, so they ignored the true one. The silent witnesses then stand as accusers.
- Not enough. Creation shows eternal power and Godhead, not grace. Only God's word reveals Christ and meets the sinner's need.
Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their language to the extremity of the world. In them hath he set a tent for the sun,
The psalm opens with the sky as a preacher. This verse says how far that wordless sermon travels, and it points to the tent God set in the sky for the sun. Two questions follow. How can a silent witness reach anyone? And how far can it take a person?
The heavens make no sound, yet their message is not vague. One writer says the silence lies in the delivery, not in the message.
The language that "day unto day utters" is as little unclear as its "pouring forth" is small. The knowledge that "night unto night shows" is no secret doctrine, but breathes its whisper in the ears of all. "There is no speech nor language, their voice is not heard." Not in spoken form; yet "their line is gone out through all the earth, and their sayings to the end of the world."
(The older wording here reads "their voice is not heard" and "their line is gone out"; the ESV has "whose voice is not heard" and "their voice goes out.")
Because the reach is total, so is the accountability.
Every day and night the voice of creation speaks in unmistakable language (v. 2). If someone refuses such clear witness, he is willfully ignorant: he has no excuse. In the darkest heathen lands their voice is heard. Romans 1:19-20 shows this. There creation stands as a clear testimony, a testimony that people realize condemns the sin they indulge in, "so that they are without excuse." So there is no place in the world that lacks a testimony from God (v. 4).
The psalm looks up, and one writer sees a reason for that. Man has handled the ground under our feet. He has never touched the heavens.
In Psalm 19 we have the testimony of creation and of the law. It is a solemn thought that whatever man has touched he has corrupted. Creation groans when a man has been there. But if I look where man cannot reach, at the moon, the stars, and so on, all is glorious... The heavens spread over all. The sun goes on its tireless circuit from one end to the other. Both are bright, unchanging witnesses of the divine glory, and man's defiling hand cannot reach them.
The second half of the verse narrows from the whole sky to one object. Everything alive depends on the sun, and that dependence is a picture.
This testimony of creation reaches everyone. There is no audible voice here, as there was with the prophets. The testimony still comes through, in the silent voice of the way things are set out. They have no speech, yet the voice of the testimony is heard. The whole creation would be useless without that sun. Wealth would mean nothing without the sun, for there could not be a grain of wheat if there were no sun. So the place the sun has in relation to this creation, the Son of God has in relation to us.
The apostle Paul borrows this line in Romans 10 to answer a question about the gospel's reach, and the borrowing is deliberate.
Psalm 19 is used in the most beautiful way to suggest that the limits are the world. Just as the sun in the heavens is not for one people or land alone, no more is the gospel. There is no language where their voice is not heard. "Their voice has gone out to all the earth, and their words to the ends of the world." The gospel goes out to everyone. Jewish claims were therefore set aside. It was not done by new and fuller revelations, but by this divinely skilful use of their own Old Testament Scriptures.
Wide as it is, the sky's message has a limit. It cannot save.
They are signs of God's creative power and goodness; but they leave the soul unconverted. No one can know God in a saving way except through the living and lasting word (1 Peter 1:23), which reveals Christ... We learn from Romans 1 that looking at creation alone teaches us only God's eternal power and divine nature — His creative power. But this does not meet the sinner's need, and it does not display God's grace.
- Wordless — the testimony carries no speech and no language, yet it is not unclear; it whispers in the ears of all.
- Unspoiled — man corrupts what he touches, but he cannot reach the heavens, so that witness stays bright and unchanging.
- Universal — the voice goes out to the end of the world; there is no place on earth without a testimony from God, and so no excuse.
- Central — in that sky He set a tent for the sun, and what the sun is to creation, the Son of God is to us.
- Not enough alone — creation shows His eternal power, but leaves the soul unconverted. Only His living word reveals Christ and saves.
And he is as a bridegroom going forth from his chamber; he rejoiceth as a strong man to run the race.
Two pictures stand side by side in this verse: a bridegroom stepping out on his wedding day, and a runner setting off with strength. Both describe the sun as it leaves its tent in the sky each morning. Commentators ask what this daily sight teaches. Does the sun point beyond itself to a Person? How far does its message travel?
The sun does not wander. God has given it a place and an hour, and it keeps them.
The early verses of the Psalm celebrate the endless witness of creation to God's greatness and glory, at least on its heavenly side. They also tell us of a tent set in the heavens for the sun. At the appointed time it comes out, shining with brightness and warmth, so that nothing is hidden from its light.
We see this every morning, and we owe more to it than we think.
The rising sun is a marvelous witness. In past ages people did not know that the earth turns, so some thought a different sun rose every morning! But the wonder of it should impress everyone... We owe so much to the warmth and light of the sun! This is why foolish people have become sun worshipers, giving no credit to the great Creator who sustains the sun.
Why a runner? Because the sun's course never tires, and that is where its gladness comes from.
The unfailing sun goes out across these heavens, from his chamber at the far end of them. His strength never runs down, and he spreads around him the joy that comes with his presence, for it is a pleasant thing to see the sun. His seems to be the joy of strength — the joy that springs from power fully proved. He always fills his place, and is always a full circle. He is always the centre of light, though the clouds of earth may gather and shut him in. He is always the centre of warmth, though winter may build its wall of frost against him. Darkness and cold and death are the sure result of his absence.
Commentators read the sun as a figure of Christ. The bridegroom picture names a relationship He holds to all He made.
He came to Israel as the Bridegroom, and His own people would not have Him. But He also stands as Bridegroom to the whole creation, for the sun is surely a figure of Him in the language of Psalm 19... As the Bridegroom He will fill the whole universe with light and joy. All creation waits for His coming. Until He appears it will go on in pain and groaning.
That reading points forward. For now, the world is lit only at second hand.
He does not shine now as the Sun of Righteousness. The moon only — a picture of the church — gives her faint light. It is night. But day will come, and the Sun of Righteousness rises with healing in His wings.
What sunlight does for the earth, the gospel does for the world.
The apostle quotes this Psalm in Romans 10:18 to link the ministry of the heavens with the ministry of the gospel. What the one does for the earth, the other does for the world. Both spread everywhere, so that nothing can hide from either the fertilising heat of the one or the saving heat of the other. The ministry of the heavens to the earth reaches all, and that is the pattern of the gospel to the world.
The point cuts against any claim that God's blessing belongs to one nation.
The heavens belonged to no land in particular, nor do the sun and stars shine for Israel alone. They are for everyone on earth. This is the goodness of God, whose rain falls on the just and the unjust, and who makes His sun rise on the evil and the good. In the same way, the law had its narrow limits, but the gospel goes out in the grace of God without restriction.
The psalm does not stop at the sun. It turns to God's word, and for good reason.
They are signs of God's creative power and goodness, but they leave the soul unconverted... Romans 1 teaches that the most we can learn from creation alone is God's eternal power and divine nature — His power as Creator. That does not meet the sinner's need, and it does not show God's grace... So what comes next in our Psalm is most important and most precious: it points us to the life-giving word.
- Appointed — God set a tent in the sky for the sun. It comes out at its appointed hour, and that steady course is what makes it a witness.
- Joyful — Its gladness is the joy of strength. It stays the centre of light and warmth, whatever clouds or frost get in the way.
- Christ — Commentators read the sun as a figure of the Bridegroom. He will fill the universe with light and joy, and creation groans until He appears as the Sun of righteousness.
- Universal — What sunlight is to the earth, the gospel is to the world. It belongs to no single nation, and nothing escapes its saving heat.
- Not enough — Creation's light shows God's eternal power, but leaves the soul unconverted. So the psalm moves on to God's life-giving word.
His going forth is from the end of the heavens, and his circuit unto the ends of it; and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.
Each day the sun crosses the whole sky, and nothing escapes its heat. The psalm makes that circuit a picture of a witness reaching everyone — but is the light it gives enough?
The sun's route covers the whole earth. The apostle quotes this psalm to show how wide God's testimony reaches.
The apostle quotes from Psalm 19 a striking and most fitting illustration of how universal God's testimony is. We can see that the psalm divides into two parts. The works of God and the law of the Lord both testify. One witness is outward and universal; the other deals with those who had the law. The heavens belonged to no land in particular, nor do the sun and stars shine for Israel alone. They are for man in the earth at large. This matches the generosity of God, whose rain falls on just and unjust, and who makes His sun rise on evil men and on good.
The sun runs the same course without a break and without tiring.
Across these heavens goes the unfailing sun, out from his chamber at the ends of them. His vigour never lets up, and he spreads around the joy that comes with his presence. His seems indeed the joy of strength — the joy that springs out of proven ability. He always fills his place. He is always full and round, always the centre of light, though the clouds of earth may gather and shut him in. He is always the centre of warmth, though winter may build its barrier of frost against him. Darkness and cold and death are the sure result of his absence.
Writers also read the sun as a picture of Christ. Its heat gives life to those who welcome it, and harms those who do not.
But the sun is clearly created to symbolise the Lord Jesus, as Malachi 4:2 implies: "But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings." The time of this rising will be the beginning of the millennium. That will be a day of wonderful blessing for the world, as pictured in verse 6 of our chapter. The sun is a wonderful friend, but it can be a withering enemy in a dry land without water or shade. So the Lord Jesus is a wonderful friend, but if someone decides to be His enemy, he exposes himself to the results of that folly.
Nothing hides from the sun's heat, and one writer sees in that the pattern for how the gospel spreads.
The service the heavens render to the earth is like the service the gospel renders to the world. Both spread themselves everywhere, so that nothing is hidden from either the fertilising heat or the saving heat. The way the heavens serve the whole earth is the pattern for the way the gospel serves the world.
The sun shines on everyone alike, and one writer reads God's love the same way.
God's love is just like the sun in the heavens, about which we read, "there is nothing hidden from its heat." The sun warms the king and the beggar alike, the rich and the poor, the old and the young, the white and the black. So God's love is for all.
Sunlight exposes as well as warms, and one writer applies that to the Lord's gaze on a lukewarm church.
In contrast to the lack of heat in the assembly at Laodicea, the Lord Himself keeps His warmth and zeal. He is now glorified in heaven, and we may contemplate Him there in all His splendour. He really wants us to do just that, so that we may receive light and warmth and become zealous. A Christian who really loves the Lord "up there" in the glory has spiritual energy "down here." And nothing escapes His searching eyes, not even in Laodicea with its nice cover-ups.
The sun's circuit ends the psalm's picture of creation. One writer explains why this witness cannot be the last word.
The works of God in the heavens and the earth are tokens of His creative power and goodness, but they leave the soul unconverted. We cannot know God in a saving way except through the living and lasting word, which reveals Christ... Romans 1 teaches us that creation alone can show us only God's eternal power and divine nature — His creative power. But this does not meet the sinner's need, nor does it display God's grace.
- Circuit — The sun's route covers everything. The heavens shine for no one nation; their witness reaches all people.
- Strength — The sun never fails, never tires, never leaves its place. That is the joy of proven ability.
- Heat — Nothing hides from it. It warms king and beggar alike, and searches out the cover-ups of a lukewarm heart.
- Pattern — What the sun does for the earth is the model for what the gospel does for the world: everywhere, and freely.
- Limit — Creation's circuit can show God's power, but it cannot save. Only the word that reveals Christ does that.
The law of Jehovah is perfect, restoring the soul; the testimony of Jehovah is sure, making wise the simple;
Psalm 19 sets two witnesses side by side. The first six verses point to the sky; from verse 7 the psalm turns to God's word and to what that word does to a person.
One commentator explains why the sky, on its own, is not enough:
What right-minded person can fail to admire the works of God displayed in the heavens or in the earth? They are surely there for our admiration and enjoyment. But it is a fatal mistake to be satisfied with them, beautiful as they are. They are tokens of God's creative power and goodness, but they leave the soul unconverted... Suppose you knew His eternal power and Godhead — His almightiness — and nothing more. That could only fill the soul with terror, and rightly so. Faith comes not by seeing the mighty works of creation but by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.
Readers often assume "law" means the Ten Commandments. Commentators take the word wider than that. (These writers quote an older translation: it reads "Jehovah" where the ESV has "the LORD," and "restoring" or "converting" the soul where the ESV has "reviving.")
"The law of Jehovah is perfect, restoring the soul." "Converting," in the broader sense of the word, would not be wrong — that is, turning it from any wrong path. Torah, "the law," means literally that which points out the way, and as "perfect" it is an infallible guide... How blessed to have the certainty that comes from listening to God's voice. It is clearly the first point of all for blessing. Apart from this, wisdom and folly, holiness and unholiness, are names and nothing else. We seek to please God and do not know whether we are offending Him.
Another writer says what that conversion is:
"The law of the Lord" in verse 7 is not confined to the ten commandments, but takes in everything God has revealed in His word as a perfect ruling principle. When any individual receives it as such, that is conversion. By nature we are not subject to God, but sinners in a state of self-will. The word of God has power in it to bring about conversion, a total change.
The psalm never asks whether anyone keeps the law. That silence is the point:
In Psalm 19 we have two great witnesses to the power and thoughts of God. First, from verses 1 to 6, the witness that creation gives, and especially the heavens... From verse 6 to the end, we have the perfection of the law. The psalm does not ask here whether man keeps it. What matters here is the perfection of the law itself, its value for the soul of man wherever it brings its light, and the moral power of its instructions.
The second half of the verse stands on different ground. That change shapes what faith is free to do:
"The testimony of Jehovah" takes quite different ground from that of the "law." Its appeal is not to authority, as the law's is. It appeals to fact and truth. And "the testimony of Jehovah is sure," beyond any possibility of being overthrown... So His testimony "makes wise the simple," or inexperienced, with the wisdom of experience. Faith, then, is not credulity. It is not necessary to faith that you shut your eyes. He who is Light leads in the light. Question, scrutinise, use every faculty He has given you: they will not be put to shame.
One writer sets the word beside the sky and finds two effects in both:
The works and the word of God have these two qualities — they glorify God and bless the creature, as this Psalm shows. The sky declares God's handiwork. It also carries the sun, which gives its heat to all creation. So the law is perfect, glorifying its Maker like the sky, but it also converts the soul... The earth needs no effort and shows no unwillingness to receive blessing from the heavens. Man is different. He must stir himself up, as the Psalmist does here, to get the blessing that the law or the word carries for his soul.
- Stars stop short. Creation displays God's power and goodness. But it leaves the soul unconverted. The word does what the sky cannot.
- Law points the way. Torah means what shows the road. Because it is perfect, it cannot mislead. It covers all God has revealed, not just ten commands.
- Perfect regardless. The psalm praises the law's own excellence, not man's success at keeping it.
- Sure, so wise. The testimony appeals to fact and truth, not to authority. So faith can question and examine with open eyes, and the inexperienced come away wise.
- Stir yourself. The earth takes the sun's heat without effort. But you must stir yourself to get the blessing the word carries.
The precepts of Jehovah are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of Jehovah is pure, enlightening the eyes;
Psalm 19 turns from the silent witness of the skies to the spoken word of God. Verse 8 says that word does two things at once: it gladdens the heart and it clears the sight.
The psalm sets creation and the word side by side. One writer notes that both share a quality man cannot touch.
Long ago man filled the earth with corruption and violence... The heavens are spread over all, and the sun goes on its tireless circuit from one end to the other. They are the bright, unchanging witnesses of the divine glory, and man's defiling hand cannot reach them. The law of the LORD changes just as little. Man cannot change the law, but he does disobey it.
The same writer adds that in these verses the issue is not whether man can keep it, but "its intrinsic perfection and its value for those who by grace profit by its light."
God's precepts are called "right." They are a standard with nothing wrong in them anywhere, and that is what makes the heart glad.
Where else could we find instruction that had in it no possibility of mistake? A little experience with the word of God convinces us that here we have truth that is completely pure, with every detail right. This fact expands the heart with pure joy.
Orders rarely feel like a gift. One writer explains why these do, then points to what a command shows us about the One who gives it.
"The precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart." What is more welcome to the heart than to be directed in love along the way we want to go? "The commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes." How much we learn of His mind by what He commands or forbids!
Older translations read "statutes" here where the ESV has "precepts." The joy comes from obeying the word, not from admiring it:
Happy the heart that finds its joy in the "statutes" of God. Remember that "statute" means a divine direction given for our obedience. What joy there is in obeying Him!
Commentators differ over what enlightened eyes means here. Some hear refreshment in it, like Jonathan tasting honey in the wood. One writer instead traces a line from the first half of the verse to the second.
The two lines are not mere repetition; the second advances on the first. In Ephesians we find "having the eyes of your heart enlightened" — an expression which joins the two parts of this together. The heart is largely what governs the eyes. When the heart rejoices in the LORD's precepts, the eyes can judge rightly. From the opposite of this all error, in fact, proceeds.
Others put the emphasis on the source of the light. The commandment is "pure" because "it is free from the least mixture, for it comes from God, and by this the eyes are enlightened: we see more clearly than we possibly could without it."
One writer sets this verse beside a scene from Israel's history, where a man's eyes were opened by another route.
Jonathan had his eyes opened by disobeying his father, for he ate some honey. David says the opposite: "the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes" (Psalm 19:8). This means that true enlightenment is found in the path of obedience to God.
Clear sight needs an object. One writer names what the opened eye ends up seeing.
The statutes of the law are right, they are perfect, a true standard. In every direction the commandment of the law is pure. The eyes are opened and enlightened, and we see correctly and clearly. This lets us see righteousness fulfilled: God has put Christ in the place of exaltation, crowned in heaven.
- Unchanging. Like the sun overhead, God's word stands above man's power to spoil it. Man can disobey the law, but he cannot change it.
- Right. God's precepts are right because there is no mistake in them. Every detail is true, and that certainty fills the heart with joy.
- Rejoicing. These precepts are directions given to be obeyed. The gladness comes from His guiding us the way we want to go — and from doing what He says.
- Pure. The commandment comes from God with nothing mixed in. It teaches us His mind by what He commands and what He forbids.
- Enlightening. The heart governs the eyes. Joy in His precepts brings clear sight, and true light comes on the path of obedience — light that ends by showing us Christ exalted.
The fear of Jehovah is clean, enduring for ever; the judgments of Jehovah are truth, they are righteous altogether
Psalm 19 sets two witnesses side by side: the silent sky and the spoken word of God. Verse 9 turns a corner — from what the law is to what it does inside a person, and from what God says to how God judges.
The psalm sets creation and the law side by side. Human hands cannot spoil either one. One writer notes that verses 7–11 do not ask whether anyone can keep the law. They describe what the law is in itself:
Here the point is not whether man can keep it or not, but its own perfection and its value for those who by grace profit by its light. No one can change either of these witnesses... The heavens are spread over all. The sun runs its tireless circuit from one end to the other. Both are bright, unchanging witnesses of the divine glory, beyond the reach of man's defiling hand. The law of the LORD varies just as little; but if man cannot change the law, he disobeys it.
The first four phrases in verses 7–8 describe the word itself. This one names something happening inside a person:
The first four references to scripture point to something outside us. This one points to something inside us, "the fear of the LORD," because it has to do with the real reception of God's truth in our hearts. It produces a healthy reverential fear of God. That fear is clean in its character and in its results, and the results endure forever. Wonderful assurance! Then "the judgments of the LORD" are connected with this — judgments that apply to specific circumstances, with decisions that appeal to those who have the fear of the LORD, as being "true and righteous altogether."
The word "clean" says what this fear does. It removes what keeps a person at a distance from God, and that is why it lasts:
We come to the principle that underlies all this. It is "the fear of the LORD" Himself, and it is "clean" — it frees us from the defilement that bars us from approaching Him or having communion with Him. So it has the real elements of endurance in it. The favour of God has that, and what is in harmony with His mind abides. The judgments of the LORD are truth in the same way, and the fear of Him makes us cling to them. Truth here carries the primary meaning of the word: firm and stable.
This fear is often confused with terror. Commentators are careful to separate the two:
This fear of the LORD is not the slavish dread that marks the superstitious. No. It is a reverent trust joined with a hatred of evil. "The fear of the LORD is hatred of evil" (Prov. 8:13). "The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever." Where this fear continues, the presence of the LORD is a reality and a joy.
Another writer calls this line the keynote for everything scripture says about the fear of the LORD:
I think this verse gives you the keynote of the scripture, as regards the fear of the LORD. Without this you cannot progress in practical holiness, or sanctification.
The ESV calls these "rules"; older translations call them "judgments." Faith owns them as right even when they hurt:
Disciplinary judgments are not joyful at the time, but painful (Heb. 12:11). Yet in the middle of trial faith owns them to be just and righteous. It never quarrels with the ways of God. As the Lord has said, "wisdom is justified by her deeds" (Matt. 11:19). Faith knows the aim and end of these judgments is blessed — that we should be partakers of His holiness.
Which way you look changes the effect — and both effects meet in Christ Himself:
Looking at God and His glory, the Psalmist says, "The judgments of the LORD are true and righteous altogether. More to be desired are they than gold..." But when we look at man, the effect is the opposite, sad to say. His guilt and rebellion turn the sweet into bitter, the food into poison, life into death... One sees both effects in their perfection in the blessed Lord Himself.
God's judgments also guide. They map a path through a confusing world:
The judgments of the Lord on all human conduct warn us... We need the wisdom and good sense that can point out a divine path in the confusion of evil. It guides our steps out of the reach of evil here. God's word meets us even here. And in keeping His judgments there is great reward, great positive blessing and peace of heart here.
- Unchanged — Like the stars, God's law lies beyond the reach of human hands; man can disobey it, but he cannot alter it.
- Received — The earlier phrases describe the word. This one describes where it lands: a heart that takes God's truth in.
- Clean — This fear removes the defilement that blocks the way to God. That is why it endures.
- Reverent — Not the dread of the superstitious, but trust joined to a hatred of evil. Without it there is no progress in practical holiness.
- Righteous — God's decisions are firm and true. Faith owns them as just even under discipline, and keeping them brings reward and peace of heart.
They are more precious than gold, yea, than much fine gold; and sweeter than honey and the dropping of the honeycomb.
Psalm 19 puts two witnesses side by side. First the skies, which speak without words. Then God's word, which speaks plainly. In verse 10 the psalmist stops describing that word and starts pricing it. He weighs it against the two things people want most: wealth and pleasure.
The verses just before this one describe God's word again and again. Verse 10 draws the conclusion from all of it, and it takes both of its pictures to the finest kind there is.
From all this comes the value that experience sets on these divine words. They are "more desirable than gold" — much of it, and refined. And for enjoyment, they are sweeter to the taste than the purest honey: the honey that drips of itself and is not pressed out of the comb.
Gold is the measure of everything people will spend themselves on.
Gold stands for all that is valuable to man. Scripture contrasts it with the precious things of God: with His judgments, that is, His righteous ways and commandments as seen in His law. Knowledge of God is to be received "rather than choice gold" (Prov. 8:10). Gold is what men labor for, and they will trade away strength and health to get it. For it they will give up ease and the happiness of home, and endanger life itself. Therefore Scripture speaks of covetousness (the lust of gold) as idolatry — this object of man's desire put in place of the Creator.
The verse names two different responses. Gold is what a person judges to be worth having. Honey is what a person enjoys. You need both.
The Lord's judgments are "more to be desired than gold," in fact "than much fine gold." Sober wisdom recognizes this great value, apart from our feelings. But it adds, "sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb." That is, they appeal to our taste — in essence, to our souls — as well as to our intelligence. Honey pictures the ministry of the word of God, which is sweet, but not as sweet as the word itself. What others give us from Scripture cannot be relied on the way Scripture itself can.
Commentators differ here. Another reading takes the honey as everything good in the natural world, and follows the comparison as far as it goes.
Honey and the honeycomb here refer to the best there is in nature, and God has been very generous in the realm of nature. Israel were called to nature and they were blessed according to nature. Their blessings were the land, the cattle, the family, plenty of fruit — all the very things that appeal to the natural man. However, death has come in. It is the great threat that can cut us off from the very best of nature, from fellowship, and from the fortunes we have piled up. That is a real fear: once you have possessions, you are afraid of losing them through death itself. So here in Psalm 19 we have revealed that which is to be desired more than fine gold and even better than the best of nature, because it is beyond death. It is company and communion with a risen Christ, and communion with God about His Son.
The same judgments do not taste the same to everyone. It depends where you stand when you look at them.
Looking at God and His glory, the psalmist says the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether, more to be desired than gold, and sweeter than honey. But when we look at man, the effect is sadly the opposite. His guilt and rebellion turn the sweet into bitter, the food into poison, life into death. So, looking at these same judgments, the prophet cries out, "Oh that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!" (Jer. 9:1.)
Sweetness like that changes why a person opens the Bible.
There are three ways in which it is possible to read the word of God. You may read it from a sense of duty. You may turn to it for help, relief, or guidance. Or you may read it out of delight in Him whose word it is, and whose rich treasures of grace and blessing it opens up. For some, these three ways mark different stages of spiritual life. They began by reading from a sense of obligation. In time they went on to reading for help and teaching. Finally they read because they realised that God's words were "more to be desired than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb." This last method, as many have found, is the only true way of Bible study.
- Verdict — Verse 10 is the conclusion. Everything said about God's word before it adds up to one thing: the word is priceless.
- Gold — Gold is what people trade strength, health and safety to get. Scripture calls wanting it more than God idolatry.
- Honey — Gold appeals to your judgment, honey to your taste. God's word wins both, and what others teach you from it is sweet but never as sweet.
- Beyond — Gold and honey are the best of this world, and death can take both. God's word brings us what death cannot touch: communion with a risen Christ.
- Reading — Duty first, then help, then delight. Only the third reads it as sweeter than honey — and that is the only true Bible study.
Moreover, by them is thy servant enlightened; in keeping them there is great reward.
Psalm 19 first points to the skies, then to the written word of the Lord. Verse 11 makes it personal. The word does two things for the one who serves God: it warns him, and it rewards him.
The psalm gives two witnesses. Verse 11 says what the second one is for.
Psalm 18 shows what God was to David, and in Psalm 19 we next see how others may learn about Him. He is Jehovah, the self-existing One. He has given a double testimony of Himself: first by creation (19:1-6), then by revelation (7-14). Verse 11 states the practical importance of this second testimony for saints.
A warning implies danger. One writer reads the verse against the world the reader has to walk through.
These words are very timely in a world like this. This world is in darkness. Without the Scriptures, the Holy Spirit and the One who is the Captain of our salvation, we could not get through this world successfully, because it is a maze. It is a maze that we shall get wrong at every turn. So we need every warning and guidance of Scripture. Let us take heed to all that is available for our preservation.
The same verse that warns also promises, and the two halves belong together.
Where else could we find so effective a guard against spiritual danger? The warning is against what is dangerous. But the same verse also assures us of the positive results the Lord's words may achieve in the heart: "in keeping them there is great reward." This is a clear fact here and now, and in the future it will be proved wonderfully true for those who keep them.
The verse does not speak about the law in the abstract. It names the person being warned: your servant.
Notice that it is not merely what the law is, but what the heart knows it to be: the servant of Jehovah is warned by it. There is delight in it, according to the new nature, and the sense of relationship. This is because we are servants of God, though we have higher, more intimate and glorious relationships.
Neglect has not blunted this word. One writer traces its power in Josiah's day, at the Reformation, and now.
It was true that the word had long been laid aside and forgotten. But the moment someone listens to it with an attentive ear, he feels at once that it has lost none of its power... At the Reformation it was the word of God which overthrew the papal power and set many a precious soul free from its deadly bondage. Then, as in Josiah's day, it had been long neglected, but it had only to be taken up again to prove that its edge was as keen as ever, and its power undiminished. And it is just the same now. It can gain the same victories. It is all that is needed.
Delight in the word is not enough on its own. One writer says the reward starts now.
Besides this, the heart is in the middle of dangers and human tendencies which draw us far from God. The judgments of the Lord on all human conduct warn us. The joy of the word — and, for the Christian, the joy of heaven — is not enough. We need the wisdom and prudence that can point out a divine path in the confusion of evil. We need it to guide our steps clear of evil here... And in keeping His judgments there is great reward, great positive blessing and peace of heart here. The soul is happy with God and walks in peace through the world.
These are the commands of a loving Father. One writer says no path in this world is more blessed than obedience.
And surely it is for our good to be obedient. There is indeed "great reward" in keeping the commandments of our loving Father. Every thought of Him and of His gracious ways should bind our hearts in affectionate devotion to Him. So should every mention of His wonderful dealings with us — His loving ministry, His tender care, His thoughtful love... There is nothing in all this world more deeply blessed than the path and portion of an obedient soul... One approving smile from his Lord is more than ample repayment for all the reproach that men can heap upon him.
- Two testimonies. Creation shows God to everyone. His word shows His mind, and verse 11 says what that word is for.
- Warned. The world is a maze that we would get wrong at every turn, so we need every warning Scripture gives.
- Servant. The verse speaks to a servant — not only what the law is, but what a heart in relationship with God knows it to be.
- Kept. Delight in the word alone is not enough; we need its judgments to guide our steps clear of evil here.
- Rewarded. The reward is real now: positive blessing and peace of heart, the soul happy with God. In the future it will be proved true as well.
Who understandeth [his] errors? Purify me from secret [faults].
The psalm has just praised God's word. Now the writer turns that same light back on himself. He asks a question he cannot answer. Then he prays about sin in himself that he has never seen.
The prayer does not follow failure. It follows delight in God's word. It shows what happens when a person who loves that word looks at himself.
There is delight in it, according to the new nature, and the consciousness of relationship... But this confidence and nearness turn the eye to another point: the lack of full self-knowledge, and distrust of self. "Who can understand his errors? Cleanse me from secret faults." In many things I may delight in the word, and value it when I think about it, and still not have judged my own heart. I may not be able to test my heart in practice and measure it by that perfection, for spiritual judgment grows over time.
Ask why we did wrong and we come up short. One writer compares adults to a child who cannot explain himself, and points ahead to the day God judges what is hidden.
If we ask a child why he did something wrong, he cannot answer. He does not understand his errors, and adults are no different. We do not understand what our mistakes really mean. We also have secret faults that we do not want brought into the open. But the day will come when "God will judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ" (Rom. 2:16). How much better now for us to judge them and echo the language of David, "Cleanse me from secret faults."
The word "hidden" means hidden from me, not from God. Older translations read "secret faults," and that is the wording these writers use. The next verse sets the opposite case beside it.
"Who can understand his errors? Cleanse me from secret faults," that is, from the sins I do without knowing it myself. "Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins." To sin when you know you are sinning is indeed presumption.
Ignorance changes nothing about what sin is. Because we notice so little, we have to ask for the washing instead of waiting until we feel the need.
So the psalmist is convinced: "who understands his errors?" In that conviction he turns to God with confidence and prays, "Free me from things hidden from me." Sins are not harmless just because they are unknown. They are still sins, as the law of sacrifice shows. (Lev. 4:2, 13, etc.) The dust of a defiling world settles on us without a sound, and it dulls the mirror of conscience before we notice. We need the basin and towel in the Lord's hand (John 13), not only when we are aware of evil, but because we are aware of so little.
One writer sets Paul beside the psalmist. Neither man could claim more than a clear conscience.
But who can say he is free from sins of ignorance? Not the psalmist, when he asks the same thing, "Who can understand his errors? cleanse me from secret faults." (Ps. 19:12.) Not the apostle, when he declares, "For I know nothing against myself; yet am I not thereby justified; but He that judges me is the Lord." (1 Cor. 4:4.) Here we see two things at once. There is the integrity of a man who has been tested and has judged himself, free from every known offense. And there is the full admission that things might easily be wrong in him without his knowing it. Trusting His grace, he could hand those things over to the One who will bring everything to light. If none of us ought to be able to say less than this, who on the other hand can say more?
The man praying is not in doubt about where he stands. That is why he dares to raise the question at all.
Jehovah is his Rock and his Redeemer (verse 14). The heart that searches itself always feels its own weakness and sinfulness (verses 12, 13). But it trusts Jehovah and looks to Him with confidence for protection and rescue from the evil it feels and fears... So reverence and godly fear, the constant companions of a true heart-enjoyment of grace, set the tone of this wise and thoughtful psalm.
- Hidden from me — hidden faults are sins I commit without knowing it. The next line names the opposite: sinning with my eyes open.
- Hidden, not harmless — unknown sin is still sin. The dust of the world settles without a sound, and conscience dulls before I notice.
- Hidden, so I must ask — I cannot cleanse what I cannot see, so I leave the basin and towel in His hands, not mine.
- Hidden, yet no barrier — Paul knows nothing against himself, and still will not call himself justified by that. A clear conscience is honest, not final.
- Hidden, and safe — the prayer rises from trust in the One who is rock and redeemer. That is why searching myself here brings reverence, not dread.
Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous [sins]; let them not have dominion over me then shall I be perfect, and I shall be innocent from great transgression.
Psalm 19 moves from the silent witness of the skies to the perfect law of the Lord, and then inward. David turns to his own heart, confesses the faults he cannot see, and names a bolder danger: sin chosen with open eyes.
Verse 13 stands beside the "hidden faults" of verse 12, and the two name different kinds of sin.
"Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults," that is, from the sins I commit without knowing it myself. "Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins." To sin, knowing it, is indeed presumption.
Under the law of Moses, that difference decided whether any sacrifice covered the sin.
Under the law the only sins that were provided for were those of ignorance. If a man acted presumptuously, he was to die without mercy; no sacrifice was provided for that. So, in the nineteenth psalm, David says, "Keep back Your servant from presumptuous sins" — that is, sins done knowingly.
The second half of the request — that such sins would not rule him — recognises how fast a chosen wrong becomes a master.
Much worse than this are "presumptuous sins" (v. 13). They involve deliberately and willfully indulging in what we know is wrong. Once we launch out in such a course, it is not long before such sins take control of us. May the Lord indeed preserve us from this dreadful danger. It is not usually sins of ignorance that cause us the greatest trouble, but sins we know are sins, yet we give way to them. The Lord knew we needed His preserving mercy for this, when He gave His disciples the prayer, "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
The prayer grows out of self-distrust, and it looks for safety outside himself.
We can find our safeguard only in the sanctuary. The Lord Himself is our constant necessity; and the self-distrust is wholesome that keeps us close to Him.
Verses 12 and 13 belong together, and small unjudged sins have a way of leading to big ones.
He asks to be cleansed from his secret faults, and to be kept from all presumptuous faults — what one would commit with open disregard of God. So he would be undefiled, and kept with God, not turning aside to idols or empty things. For small and neglected sins and unjudged confidence of heart lead to forgetfulness of God, and denial of Him in the truth.
But what is the "great transgression" he wants to stay clear of?
"The great transgression" (verse 13) is, undoubtedly, rebellion of the will. It is this that the believer who is growing in the way of the Lord learns most of all to dread. Man's capital sin has always been the attempt to act and prosper independently of God. This is the very root and essence of all the varied forms of personal transgression. Jesus alone found complete joy in doing the will of God perfectly. Over those whose desire is to walk as He walked, keeping themselves in His name in the love of God, the tempter has no power (1 John 2:5-6; 5:18).
The Hebrew behind "presumptuous" carries the thought of pride, and David had reason to know his own temperament.
We may gather from Ps. 19:13 that he was conscious of this weakness. "Keep back Your servant also from presumptuous sins (literally, of pride); let them not have dominion over me." He knew how soon they get the mastery... Few realized more than he the deep and constant need of delivering grace, and none has had richer experiences of it. "The Lord was with him" is the key to his whole history.
Others apply the same breathing of heart to any reader who wants to be teachable.
Let us cultivate a lowly and an obedient spirit. God has said, "To this man will I look, even to him who is of a contrite spirit and trembles at my word." May these words sink down into our ears and into our hearts.
Blamelessness follows the answer to this prayer. The closing verse adds the positive side.
When God answers the prayer of verses 12 and 13, then David may say, "Then I shall be blameless, and innocent of great transgression." ... This is the negative side. Verse 14 gives what is beautifully positive: "Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my rock and my Redeemer."
- Known sin. Hidden faults need cleansing. Presumptuous sins are different: to sin knowing it is presumption.
- Kept back. David asks God to hold him back, not just to forgive him. Self-distrust is healthy: it keeps a person close to the Lord.
- Dominion. Chosen sin does not stay a single act. It takes control fast, so the plea is that it never rules the life.
- The great transgression. Under every sin lies rebellion of the will — the effort to act and prosper apart from God.
- The result. Blamelessness is God's answer to the prayer, not a boast. Verse 14 completes it: he asks that his words and his thoughts please God.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, O Jehovah, my rock, and my redeemer.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
(To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David.) Jehovah answer thee in the day of trouble; the name of the God of Jacob protect thee;
The people here sing for someone else: they speak to their King as He goes into trouble. Commentators read it as prophecy: Israel's faithful praying for Messiah as He enters distress, which raises two questions — who is this King, and why the God of Jacob and not of Abraham?
He is not a King in splendour but a King in trouble. That is what draws the hearts of those who love Him.
It is not Messiah as Jewish unbelief and worldliness imagined, but Messiah in the day of distress. How could it be otherwise if He were found among an ungodly people? But whatever comes, He is always the faithful Witness. And God takes care to have those who see Him this way and love Him the more for it — hearts drawn to Him because He is so wrongly hated and despised.
He does not hold Himself apart from Israel's trouble.
They see the Messiah who does not scorn Jacob's trouble but enters into it. In Him they recognise the Anointed of the LORD. They value His devotion toward God, and His desires and purposes, which include them as His own.
English versions read the opening line as a wish. Some commentators argue the Hebrew states a certainty instead.
The prophecy here is as direct as Isaiah's picture of the LORD's Servant (Isa. 52:13 – 53). We should read it as a direct announcement, not, as in the common English version, as a prayer.
The difference is not just grammar. It changes what the singer is doing.
In the Psalms, imperatives used this way turn the energy of hope into a sense of need. That is what a believer with weaker faith would do. It begs God for help instead of expressing the assurance of hope.
Read as certainty, the line has already had its answer. It came after a far darker moment.
The psalmist is speaking of Christ, whom the Lord would certainly answer in the day of trouble (v. 1). God fulfilled this when He raised Christ from the dead. This answer contrasts with His being forsaken in the three hours of darkness on the cross, for there God was far from helping Him (Ps. 22:1). But when redemption was complete, God answered Him by raising Him from the grave.
The second line puts the King's safety in a name. Jacob's name was a byword for scheming, and God ties Himself to it on purpose.
In the very first verse, where the king is seen in his trouble, it is the name of the God of Jacob that sets him on high. That is only another way of reading the New Testament word that "Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father" (Rom. 6:4). God's "name" is His glory: it is the display of Himself. This is the blessedness of the gospel, that God displays Himself in it in His grace. Think what the name Jacob means, and remember the history tied to it, which the book of Genesis dwells on so much. Then "the God of Jacob" may well stand for — indeed can stand for nothing else but — the God of grace. Grace alone could take up the "supplanter" and make of him an Israel, a "prince of God."
The pattern runs right through the Psalms.
This is why we rejoice that our God so often speaks of Himself as "The God of Jacob", and so rarely as "The God of Abraham". Thirteen times in the Psalms we find "The God of Jacob", and once "The God of Abraham". And let us remember that "Jacob" means "Cheater", "Deceiver", while "Abraham" means "The Father of Many Nations."
Psalm 20 and Psalm 21 belong together. The remnant — the faithful few left in Israel — speak in both.
Christ, the object of the remnant's affections, is the subject of their prayers in Psalm 20:1-5, and Psalm 21:2-6 records the answer. They also rejoice in His salvation — His deliverance — and they share in the blessing that follows.
The setting is Jewish. One writer says that missing this is what makes the psalm hard to read, and that we lose nothing by admitting it.
We have to tell the form apart from the essence. Better still, we should freely give the ancient people of God all that belongs to them. Do that, and we will find what is our own, and how little this simple justice has cost us. The Gentile's Christ is also Israel's Messiah, and wherever we find Him our claim on Him and our interest in Him cannot be taken away.
- Trouble. The King here is Messiah in the day of distress. He is not the Messiah unbelief imagined. He enters Jacob's trouble instead of standing clear of it.
- Answer. Commentators differ: is the line a wish or a statement? Read as a statement, the answer came when God raised Christ from the grave.
- Name. God's name is His glory, the display of Himself. The name chosen here — the God of Jacob — can stand for nothing but the God of grace. That name is what sets the King on high.
- Grace. Grace alone could take the cheater and make him a prince of God. That is why "the God of Jacob" appears thirteen times in the Psalms, and "the God of Abraham" once.
- Share. Psalm 21 records the answer to the prayer of Psalm 20. Those who prayed for the King rejoice in His deliverance and share the blessing that follows.
May he send thee help from the sanctuary, and strengthen thee out of Zion;
This verse is a prayer said for someone else. The godly of Israel plead for their King in his day of trouble. Two questions follow. Who is the "you" here? And why must the help come from the sanctuary and from Zion?
The whole opening of the psalm is a string of requests, and not one of them asks anything for the people themselves. Everything they want is asked for Him.
The godly see that their own blessing is bound up with God stepping in to deliver Christ from death. So they express their joy and confidence in God. They say, "We will rejoice in Your salvation, and in the name of our God we will set up our banners." They acknowledge that all blessing depends on Christ, and not on themselves. So they say, "The Lord hear you"; "defend you"; "send you help"; "strengthen you"; "Remember all your offerings"; "Accept your burnt sacrifice"; "fulfil all your counsel," and "fulfil all your petitions."
So who is this King, and why does the prayer point to the sanctuary?
This psalm does not show Messiah in the majesty of His kingdom and glory. It shows Him as the dependent Servant of Jehovah. It mentions offerings and sacrifice, in connection with the sanctuary and the hill of promise (verses 2, 3).
The two place names tell us where the help comes from, and why there is ground to ask at all.
We see the anointed one (or Messiah), king of Israel, in distress and difficulty in the presence of his enemies. It is conflict for the sake of others, and the plea on his behalf goes up in the name of the God of Jacob — that is, of grace toward sinners. From the sanctuary in Israel, and out of Zion, seat of electing love, the help is to come.
Zion carries that weight because of when God chose it — after Israel's own history had run into ruin.
Until then, God had acted towards Israel on the ground of their works. But when they had brought themselves into utter ruin, He falls back on His sovereignty and acts from Himself for their blessing. So we read, He "chose the tribe of Judah, the mount Zion which He loved", and again, "He chose David." This is the sovereignty of divine mercy, making its own free choice for the blessing of man. A mount is a symbol of power. Mount Zion is a symbol of mighty power used in sovereign grace.
Is this verse a wish, or a promise? Commentators differ.
The Numerical Bible translates the opening verses of this psalm not as "May the Lord," but as "the Lord shall," or "He shall." The psalmist is speaking of Christ, whom the Lord would certainly answer in the day of trouble. That is the opposite of His being forsaken in the three hours of darkness on the cross, when God was far from helping Him. But once redemption was accomplished, God answered Him by raising Him from the grave. "The God of Jacob" defended Him, sending help from His heavenly sanctuary (v. 2), and strengthening Him "out of Zion." Zion is God's chosen city, and its name means "sunny," for it has Jerusalem in view as redeemed from all adversity.
The prayer asked God to strengthen Him out of Zion, as older translations word it. The answer came from higher up.
In Psalm 20 the godly Jew understands another point — Messiah in the day of trouble, with Jehovah's help looked for on His behalf. He had said "Strengthen you out of Zion," but He hears Him from His holy heaven.
The same sanctuary still supplies help, and God's people need it daily.
Without help we would surely collapse under the pressure that meets us in the path of daily confession and wilderness journeying. And how could we survive under the discipline of God, which all God's sons share in? There is help from the sanctuary! The letter to the Hebrews says: "we have such a high Priest, who is set at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens; a Minister of the sanctuary…"
- Trouble — the King stands in distress. The godly pray for Him, not for themselves, because their own blessing hangs on His deliverance.
- Sanctuary — the help comes from where God dwells, tied to offerings and sacrifice, for here the King is the dependent Servant.
- Zion — God chose this hill after everything trusted to man had collapsed. It stands for mighty power used in sovereign grace.
- Answer — the plea for strength out of Zion came back from heaven. God defended Him and raised Him from the grave.
- Reach — the sanctuary still supplies help, now through a high Priest at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens.
Remember all thine oblations, and accept thy burnt-offering; Selah.
A congregation prays here over one man on his day of trouble, asking God to remember his gifts and to accept his burnt offering. Everything turns on who that man is, and on what "accept" meant at an altar.
Commentators read the psalm this way: the faithful in Israel watch Messiah in His distress and pray that God will accept His sacrifice. They pray for Him first, and for everything His heart is set on.
Here they associate themselves in heart with Him as He suffers, and in His conflict here. Though they may see only the outside of it, they are still assured of His acceptance with Jehovah. They look for His offerings to be accepted, the desire of His heart and His counsels to be fulfilled, all His petitions accomplished. Their joy is in the full deliverance of this blessed but dependent One.
Older translations read "accept" where the ESV says "regard with favor." The Hebrew word behind it is not an abstract word for approval. It is a picture drawn from the altar.
In the 20th psalm, set meaningfully near the great sacrificial 22nd, we read, "Remember all your offerings and accept your burnt sacrifice." The word "accept" is literally "turn to ashes." In connection with the sacrifice the word is really "fat ashes" — suggesting the richness of what these ashes speak of. Looking at the ashes, one could say, "The fire has done its work in full." So, looking at the death of our blessed Lord, we can say: All is finished, divine justice can ask no more. Fittingly, this witness of a perfect work lies on the east side of the altar, toward the sunrise. That suggests nothing remains now after the cross but our Lord's resurrection.
Of all the sacrifices, the psalm names this one. The reason lies in who each offering is for.
Plainly this is the psalm of burnt offering, though the sacrifice represented takes the place of all the other offerings. The burnt offering was the "continual burnt offering," the one that was above all a sweet aroma to God. The sin offering is what man's need craves and gets; so with the trespass, and so with the peace offering. But the burnt offering, as it goes wholly up to God, expresses what is the object of His unceasing delight.
"All your offerings" is plural. One writer gathers the whole range of the altar into a single death, then points to the proof that God accepted it.
What were Christ's offerings? He was the fulfilment of the burnt offering, the grain offering, the peace offering, the sin offering and the trespass offering. All these were involved in His one great sacrifice of Calvary. But the psalm names "your burnt sacrifice" in particular, for this is the side of His offering that is devoted entirely to God. God has proven His acceptance of this by raising the Lord Jesus from death.
The people who pray will gain from the answer. Their king fights for them, and his sacrifice secures what they hope for.
The anointed, king of Israel, is seen in distress and difficulty in the presence of his enemies. It is conflict for the sake of others. They appeal for him to the name of the God of Jacob — that is, of grace toward sinners. From the sanctuary in Israel, and out of Zion, seat of electing love, the help is to come. Clearly this belongs with the establishment and triumph of the people. Messiah's offerings and burnt sacrifice secure it.
The verse ends with one more word: Selah.
The word Selah occurs 71 times in the Psalms. It means "to pause," with a second meaning, "to lift up." We can take it as a sign that when we read we should pause, think, and then lift up our hearts in praise and prayer.
- Offered — The psalm prays over Messiah in the day of His trouble. The faithful ask God to accept His offerings before they ask anything for themselves.
- Remembered — "All your offerings" is plural: burnt, grain, peace, sin and trespass offerings all met in the one sacrifice of Calvary.
- Accepted — "Accept" literally means "turn to ashes." The ashes prove the fire has finished its work. Divine justice can ask no more.
- Raised — The ashes lay east of the altar, facing the sunrise. God proved He had accepted the sacrifice by raising Jesus from death.
- Shared — The conflict was for the sake of others. So the accepted burnt sacrifice secures the blessing of the people who prayed. Then comes Selah: pause, consider, and lift the heart.
Grant thee according to thy heart, and fulfil all thy counsels.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
We will triumph in thy salvation, and in the name of our God will we set up our banners. Jehovah fulfil all thy petitions!
Psalm 20 is a prayer for a king in trouble, and verse 5 is where the prayer turns into confidence: the people celebrate before the battle is even reported. Two questions shape it: whose salvation is their joy about, and what does raising a banner in a name mean?
The people are not celebrating a victory they won. Commentators read this psalm as the godly speaking about Christ. Their gladness comes from one thing: all their blessing hangs on what happens to Him.
The godly see that their blessing is tied to one thing: God stepping in to deliver Christ from death. So they express their joy and confidence in God. They own that all blessing depends on Christ, and not on themselves, and so they say, "May the LORD fulfill all your petitions!"
The psalm asks God to grant the King His heart's desire. That desire reaches further than Himself.
His heart's desire beautifully involves His people too. That is why verse 5 has them rejoicing in His salvation and setting up their banners in the name of their God. Many psalms unite the Lord with His saints like this, and it is surely meant to move our hearts in thanksgiving... The "we" mentioned here then speak out their conviction that the Lord would fulfil every petition of the Lord Jesus. Indeed, they also will share in the answer to His petitions.
A banner was a military standard — the flag an army fought under.
A fighting army always needs a standard. It is a rallying point and a sign of unity. It is also an inspiring emblem of the cause the army fights for, and a public display of that cause. Few things show the power of feeling and symbol as strongly as a banner. It is only a piece of silk or cloth, with a name or rough figure on it, worth very little in itself. Yet warriors will fight to the death around it... Israel's banner carries the great name of JEHOVAH, and it needs no party name, symbol or slogan added to it. It is great enough for us all to fight under.
Raising a banner in God's name also rules something out. The psalm sets trust in that name against the strength people normally count on.
How empty is the help of man, how weak and powerless the arm of flesh. As the psalmist declares, "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God."
Commentators read the verse as prophecy as well as praise. The words fit a future generation in Israel who will one day own the One they refused. They will raise the banner in a name they have at last come to know.
As a prophecy, this prayer seems fitted for the lips of a repentant Israel in the last days. God will receive them in grace and freely forgive them. Then they will once again raise their banner in the name of Him who is their God — a name they will by then have truly learned and known. When with unveiled hearts they acknowledge Jesus as the Christ, they will glory in the God of Jacob as the strength of their salvation. "Jehovah-nissi" — the Lord my banner — will then be their lasting watchword.
The name on that banner matters. God Himself has made it known to them, and it is a name of grace.
The people, rejoicing in His deliverance, set up their banners in that Name which God has declared to them — the name of Jacob's God, the God of grace. There is certainly a national movement here, in the face of enemies, but with confidence... Their faith has linked itself with Him. That faith speaks out in joyful certainty, in the voice of a believing nation in the last days.
- The cause: the salvation celebrated is His — God's answer to the King in His day of trouble, not a victory the people achieved.
- The gift: because the King's heart's desire includes His people, they share in the answer to His prayers.
- The banner: a standard is a rallying point and a public declaration. Israel's carries one name, and needs no slogan added.
- The reach: the name is the God of Jacob — the God of grace — trusted instead of chariots and horses.
- The result: commentators read the verse forward. One day a nation will raise that banner in a name it knows at last, with "the Lord my banner" as its watchword.
Now know I that Jehovah saveth his anointed; he answereth him from the heavens of his holiness, with the saving strength of his right hand.
Up to this point the psalm is all prayer — prayers for the king in a day of trouble. Verse 6 breaks in with settled certainty. It raises two questions: who is this "anointed," and why does the answer come from heaven, when verse 2 asked for help from the sanctuary?
Commentators read the person at the centre of this psalm as more than David.
Indeed in verse 6 the person who is the subject of the psalm is said to be Jehovah's anointed, that is, His Christ. A little group favoured His righteous cause. They saw Him rejected by men. In the prophetic testimony of the Psalms they earnestly desire His acceptance with God, and help and deliverance from the sanctuary.
The psalm also looks ahead to a day when the godly in Israel will recognise a rejected Man as God's Anointed. One man in the Gospels saw it early.
The psalm anticipates the recognition by the godly Jews that the suffering and rejected Christ is the Anointed of God — their Saviour. Simeon, in the gospel day, sees in Christ God's salvation, while at the same time he recognises that He will be rejected by the nation — One who is "spoken against" (Luke 2:34).
At this verse the tone changes from asking to being sure. The joy of those who speak rests on someone else's deliverance.
Their joy is in the full deliverance of this blessed but dependent One. In verse 6 we have the assurance of faith about it: from heaven itself Jehovah has heard.
Earlier the psalm asked for help "from the sanctuary" and support "from Zion." Verse 6 answers from somewhere else. One writer sees two lines of thought here, and neither one is dropped.
In the second verse there is a twofold answer implied, for the sanctuary and Zion are in different lines of thought. The one is the place of priesthood, the other the seat of royal power. Christ is both Priest and King. But in connection with Him, the sanctuary set in the middle of Israel can be no more than "the figure of the true." The sixth verse declares this plainly, where the answer of God is "from His holy heaven." Christ is still to be answered out of Zion, with the kingly power in Israel put into His hand. In that day the two answers will come into fullest agreement.
The second half of the verse names a strength. One writer ties it to resurrection power, and to what it secures for the remnant — the godly in Israel who wait for Him.
Faith is sure that Christ will be heard. It is sure that Jehovah will step in with "the saving strength of His right hand," and deliver His Anointed in resurrection power. This gives the remnant the confidence that Jehovah will bring down all His enemies and raise up His own. So Christ, risen and exalted, becomes the resource of His people.
Note: the writers quote an older translation, which reads "saving strength" where the ESV has "saving might."
The answer went further than the psalm's own words. God seated the One who prayed at His own right hand.
God has indeed answered Him from heaven in a far greater way than David imagined in this verse. God has received Him up into the heavens to sit at His right hand. Israel will one day have the joy of worshipping the One God has exalted as they have never worshipped Him before.
Writers differ on whose voice this is. One hears it in the future, from the very nation that once refused Him — a nation deaf until God opens its ears.
So Israel will yet wake up to the acceptance with God of Him whom, as the Crucified, they refused and scorned. So far they have heard only the Voice that cried, "You do not hear." To the One who afterwards said, "You have heard Me," they have been deaf and unbelieving. At last the "Ephphatha" will be spoken which will give ears and tongue each its work, and they will say, "Now I know that Jehovah saves His Anointed! He answers Him from His holy heaven, with the saving strength of His right hand."
- Anointed — The verse names Jehovah's anointed, that is, His Christ. The psalm gives the voice of those who see Him rejected by men.
- Known — "Now I know" moves from prayer to the assurance of faith. It speaks before deliverance is in sight.
- Heaven — The psalm asks help from the sanctuary and Zion. God answers from His holy heaven, since the sanctuary in Israel was only "the figure of the true" — and Zion's answer is still to come.
- Strength — His right hand saves with resurrection power. It brings His enemies down and lifts His own up.
- Confessed — God answered David's faith beyond his sight, seating Christ at His right hand. One day the nation that scorned the Crucified will say this verse for itself.
Some make mention of chariots, and some of horses, but we of the name of Jehovah our God.
Psalm 20 is the prayer of a people watching their king go into battle, and verse 7 names where their confidence rests. Two kinds of strength stand side by side: the visible machinery of war, and the name of the God of Israel. Only one of them holds.
The verse belongs to a psalm about One who suffers in a day of distress, while those who love Him trust that God will hear Him.
In Psalm 20, surrounded by sorrows and evil, we have the faithful witness, the living witness Himself. We see Him in the day of His distress, for He has come down among an ungodly people. Prophecy marks out the remnant this way: in heart they enter into His distress, sure that Jehovah will hear His Anointed.
So the "we" of the verse speak from the day of distress. Their one hope is that God will hear His Anointed.
In the ancient world chariots and horses were the best military equipment available. Scripture uses them as a picture of trust in human power. One writer points to God's own promise to take them away:
"I will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off." All these things were symbols of human strength, human grounds of confidence in conflict.
God takes these props away so that His people lean on Him alone.
Israel lived under a standing restriction on this very point, and the psalm gives the reason.
The multiplication of either was forbidden to the Israelites for this very reason. Both were used mainly for war; but Israel's reliance was to be the Lord their God.
The same principle shows up on the battlefield. After a great victory, God told Joshua to disable the captured horses and burn the captured chariots instead of keeping them.
The victory is complete. Israel burns the enemy's chariots and disables their horses by cutting the sinews of their legs. The purpose of this was, no doubt, to make it impossible for His people to trust in human resources. If they had used these horses, they might have put their confidence in them.
The psalm's alternative is a name. Older translations read "we will remember the name," which is why the writers quoted here speak of remembering. In Scripture a name carries the whole reality of the person who bears it.
Scripture brings the Name of the Lord before us again and again. That Name expresses everything the Lord is in Himself, and everything He is in His dealings with His creatures — with those nearest to Him and with the nations who do not know Him. … To the righteous, the Name of the Lord was a strong tower he could run to for safety.
To remember that name is to fall back on everything it holds.
One writer reads the outcome as still future for Israel:
In the past Israel put their trust in chariots and horses, and they found themselves completely defeated. In the end — and only after great tribulation — they will remember the name of the Lord their God. What a change that will be! Then their enemies, who trusted in the weapons of war, will find themselves broken down and falling to the ground. Israel, meanwhile, will have risen to stand upright.
Other writers point to the risen Christ as the ground of it all. God answers with the saving might of His right hand, bringing His enemies down and raising up His own. As one puts it, "Christ, risen and exalted, becomes the resource of His people" (Hamilton Smith).
Every generation has its own version of the horse.
In everything people do, they need some means of help or support, and in battle they find horses very useful. Of course now they need motorized equipment; but whether horses or tanks, these are no guarantee of success. Deliverance is only by the Lord. We are slow indeed to learn this elementary lesson.
- Two confidences. Chariots and horses stand for human strength in battle. The verse offers one alternative: the name of the Lord.
- Stripped on purpose. God forbade Israel to stockpile horses, and Joshua burned the captured chariots. Trust in human resources had to become impossible.
- Name means Person. That name holds everything the Lord is in Himself and in all His dealings.
- Spoken from weakness. The "we" of the psalm are people in the day of trouble, whose hope is that God will hear His Anointed.
- Opposite endings. Those who trusted weapons are broken down and fall; those who remembered the name rise and stand upright. Believers are still slow to learn it.
They are bowed down and fallen; but we are risen and stand upright.
The verse sets two groups side by side and reports how each one ends: one bent and fallen, the other raised and on its feet. It is the result of the choice made in the verse before. Commentators read it as a picture of Israel's future, and as a lesson about where anyone's confidence should rest.
Hebrew poetry often says the same thing twice in different words. This verse does something else, and one writer uses it as his standard example of the technique:
In synonymous parallelism the same thought comes twice in different but equivalent words. In antithetical parallelism the two halves express the opposite sides of the same thought, as in Psalm 20:8.
So the two halves show one thought from both ends: what trust in chariots leads to, and what trust in the name of God leads to.
The people who fall here are the ones who boasted. Their fall stands against a rising that lasts:
The name of God is once more uttered by them here. Well may they be glad to remember it now, after so long a time of forgetfulness. Now no earthly confidence will they boast in, but only in Jehovah. The sure result follows: while other hopes deceive, Jehovah manifests Himself for them. Their enemies (these boasters) are brought down and fallen. Israel rises from her sorrow and degradation — and not temporarily: they rise and stand upright.
Writers take "we are risen" as more than recovery from a bad season. It is the language of coming back from the dead, applied to a nation:
In the past Israel put their trust in chariots and horses, and they found themselves totally defeated. Finally, though only after great tribulation, they will remember the name of the Lord their God (v. 7). What a change that will be! Then their enemies, who have trusted in the weapons of war, will find themselves broken down, falling to the ground, while Israel will have risen to stand upright. This is figurative resurrection — "life from the dead" (Romans 11:15).
Commentators read the psalm as the voice of a faithful group. They have joined themselves in heart to the One who suffers. Their own standing depends on whether He is heard:
Here they join themselves in heart with Him as He suffers. In His conflict they may see only the outside of it. Even so, they are sure of His acceptance with Jehovah. Their joy is in the full deliverance of this blessed but dependent One. In verse 6 faith is sure of it: Jehovah has heard from heaven itself. The mighty are fallen. The poor of the flock are raised up and kept standing before Him.
Notice the two words used for the two groups: the mighty go down, the poor of the flock come up. Strength and weakness change places.
Nobody says this while other options still look promising. One writer traces the road that brings a people to it — through a time of trouble for Israel worse than anything before it:
Then will come the "time of Jacob's trouble" (Jeremiah 30:7). It will be the great tribulation, worse than anything from the beginning of the world until then, and worse than anything after it (Matthew 24:21). If those days were not cut short, no one would survive (v. 22)… This goes on until every hope in man's help is gone. Then they are ready to say that some trust in chariots and some in horses, but they will remember the name of the LORD their God.
The verse looks to a future day. The trust behind it is for now:
We cannot stress too much the importance of this simple trust in the Lord — just leaning upon Him every day and every hour of the day.
- Contrast. One verse, two halves. The same event leaves one group face-down and the other on its feet.
- Choice. Trust decides which half you stand in. Chariots and horses go down with the people who lean on them.
- Collapse. The fallen are the boasters and the mighty. Nothing here says they get back up.
- Rising. "We are risen" means more than relief. It is Israel lifted out of her degradation — "life from the dead," and not for a season only.
- Reversal. The poor of the flock end up standing, because Jehovah heard the One they had joined themselves to.
Save, Jehovah! Let the king answer us in the day we call.
Psalm 20 ends with two short prayers side by side: a cry for salvation, and a cry to be heard. All through the psalm the people have prayed for their King in His day of trouble. Now they ask for themselves — and the question is who they are asking.
Earlier in the psalm the enemies fall while the speakers rise and stand upright. Commentators read that as Israel's national resurrection. This last cry is the prayer of the godly remnant — the faithful few left in the nation — in the days of trouble just before it.
God will answer the intercessions of His Anointed (Christ); all enemies are bowed down and fallen. The words "But we are risen and stand upright" point to the day of Israel's national and spiritual resurrection. Looking ahead to the trouble of the last days we read the prayer of this godly remnant. "Save, LORD! Let the King hear us when we call."
Through the psalm the speakers have been praying for the King. In this last verse they pray to Him — a shift that only makes sense if He has been raised to a new place.
In verse 9 Messiah takes another place. Jehovah had delivered Him as the dependent One in the day of His distress. Now the remnant look for Him to hear them when they call. Jehovah is still looked to as the Saviour, but Messiah the king is invoked. They now know that the Anointed is exalted. No part of scripture opens up the Person of Christ as the Psalms do... Here Messiah is connected with the remnant as the dependent One, but He is exalted too, as the king Israel calls on.
Translations split this verse in two ways. The ESV reads, "O LORD, save the king!" Others read, "Save, LORD! Let the king hear us when we call." On that second reading, the King Himself is the one asked to answer. Darby notes that the Greek and Latin versions give the first reading, while the Jewish translations give the second, and he sees no reason to change it.
The Hebrew word for "save" here carries a name inside it. Darby hears the force of the whole psalm in that one word.
In Psalm 20 the Jews, taught by Jehovah in the last days, recognise Jesus in the time of their distress. They see the crucified One joined to them as their Saviour. Their thoughts turn towards Him: "now I know." The last verse shows this with striking force — "Jehovah, save" (in Hebrew that word is the root of the name Jesus); "let the king hear in the day of our calling." It is the recognition of Jesus, and in Jesus their own security, for God hears them.
Read straight through, the verse asks Jehovah to save and the King to hear — both in the same breath.
The third section must be described as the resurrection of Israel. We see them actually brought back to God, as they will be through faith in Christ. The necessary effect is that they find God on their side. With the usual punctuation, the last verse goes on to a further discovery, full of blessing: Messiah, their King, and Jehovah are the same. That is a truth the Psalms are certainly able to give.
Here the people do not say "hear us, You." They ask the King to hear them. Jesus later sets His disciples on different ground.
It is Christ in royalty, rising and receiving glory, but all Jewish in this Psalm and in Psalm 20... The psalm calls on the name of the God of Jacob. So the prayer is not "Hear us, You!" but "Let the king hear us." It is just by this connection and contrast that the Lord says, "In that day you will ask nothing of me... whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you," He associates them with Himself as sons... They look at Jehovah's dealings with the King; we are in Him, asking the Father in His name, and He is in us. They know the acts, we know the Person.
The King they ask to hear them has already had His own prayers answered. So the people know where the answer will come from.
Calling then only upon God, "Save, Lord," there will be no question as to the answer, not only from God, but from the King. His petitions to God have been answered, and He, from His holy heaven, answers the prayer of all His faithful subjects.
- Trouble — this is the cry of a people in distress. They look ahead to the day when their enemies fall and they rise and stand upright.
- Recognition — the word "save" carries the root of the name Jesus. In this cry a nation owns the crucified One as its Saviour.
- Invocation — through the psalm they pray for the King. Here they pray to Him, because they now know He is exalted.
- Discovery — the verse asks Jehovah to save and the King to hear. Messiah the King and Jehovah are the same.
- Answer — He was heard Himself, so from His holy heaven He answers the prayers of those who call.
(To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David.) The king shall joy in thy strength, Jehovah; and in thy salvation how greatly shall he rejoice.
The psalm before this one was a prayer for a King under pressure. This one opens with the answer already in hand.
In this psalm we have the full answer to the desires expressed by the godly in Psalm 20. There we see Christ as the faithful witness for God among His enemies. Here we see Him as the witness for God, exalted over all His enemies (v. 1). Christ in exaltation becomes a witness to the power and salvation of the LORD.
One writer maps the whole psalm in outline.
Psalm 21 — the answer to Psalm 20. (Part 1 is addressed to the LORD.) Verses 1-7: the joy of the faithful in what the king is. (Part 2) Verses 8-12: what you, the king, will do in judgment on men, your enemies. Verse 13: our joy.
The strength the King rejoices in is the LORD's, not His own. One writer marks what that does and does not say about Him.
They look at the Messiah — a wonderful sight — as in the trouble, but only as entering into it. They ask that the desires of His heart be granted Him. So we have the King rejoicing with the LORD's strength — not the Son who is one with the Father. We have them looking at the LORD's dealings with the King, not us in Him... It is "the LORD saves His Messiah," that is, known in resurrection.
The salvation named here is God's answer to One who asked for life with death in front of Him.
He had asked life of the LORD (compare Hebrews 5). He gave it Him, but it was length of days for ever and ever, the abiding eternal life of the risen, glorified man. That was the answer to the cry of the suffering Messiah when death was before Him... His glory is great in this deliverance by the LORD's delight. He was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father.
One writer marks the moment that answer came.
The answer to His cry for deliverance did not come in the garden before the cross. God heard Him from the cross, when the work of redemption was finished. How blessed are the words of Psalm 21, spoken prophetically of the Lord Jesus.
The verse reads like a settled fact, yet its full display is still ahead.
Since the Lord Jesus has become true Man in every proper respect, the strength of God is His. In this He rejoices, and in the accomplished salvation of God, which will be shown in full in "the age to come" (v. 1). This is plainly prophetic. It reads as though His heart's desire were already given Him (v. 2). But only when He reigns will it be completely fulfilled.
This gladness belongs to a Man who reached it through the cross and who went ahead of His people.
Jesus now has His heart's desire. For the joy that was set before Him He endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God... Grief once filled the heart of the Man of sorrows until it broke, and His affliction was for our sakes. That grief is now forgotten in the great gladness of the LORD's presence. To know these things is the believer's chief delight. For it is his Saviour and forerunner whom he sees crowned like this.
- Asked — Psalm 20 prayed for the King in trouble. Psalm 21 opens with the answer, so this joy rests on a prayer already granted.
- Received — the King rejoices in strength that is the LORD's. Here He is the Man dealt with by God, not the Son who is one with the Father.
- Raised — the salvation He exults in is life given back when death stood before Him. It is length of days for ever and ever: the life of the risen, glorified Man.
- Reigning — the words read as settled fact. Yet the full display waits for the age when He reigns.
- Shared — the One whom God heard from the cross now wears the crown. To see our Saviour and forerunner there is the believer's chief delight.
Thou hast given him his heart's desire, and hast not withholden the request of his lips. Selah.
Psalm 21 stands as the reply to Psalm 20, where the godly had prayed that God would grant the King the desire of his heart. Here that prayer comes back answered. So who is this King, what did He ask for, and what did He receive?
This verse is not a fresh request. It is a receipt. The people who asked in Psalm 20 now speak of the thing as done.
In Psalm 21 we get the full answer to Psalm 20 and its desires, in the exaltation of Christ. That answer throws light back on the true character of Psalm 20. The faithful remnant longed for one thing: that Jehovah would give the suffering Messiah what His own heart wanted, and would fulfil His requests. Now that Christ is exalted they can say — the Spirit says it for them — You, Jehovah, have given Him His heart's desire, and have not withheld the request of His lips.
The verse closes with "Selah." One writer names the King and gives the word's plain sense:
"The king" here is the subject of Psalm 2… "Selah" means 'pause' or 'meditate'.
The psalm goes on to name what He asked for: life. The answer to that request came after death, not instead of it.
Jesus had asked life in the days of His flesh, and the resurrection was the answer to the request of His lips. Length of days for ever and ever is the portion awarded to Him. In dying obedience He committed His spirit into the Father's hands.
The answer did not take the form most readers expect.
If we compare Hebrews 5:7 and Gethsemane's cry, I think the force of the Psalm will be clear. The answer in the Psalm is not that He was kept from dying. It is life as risen in glory above, made most blessed for ever. God did not spare His life for a time here; He laid honour and great majesty on Him as man, in a higher and more glorious condition.
If everything was already settled in God's purpose, why pray for it?
Christ as a man, though mighty to do all things, asked everything of His Father. Dependence was His perfection. At Lazarus' tomb He asked, knew His Father heard Him always; asked in John 12; asked that the cup might pass. The necessity of an event does not stop asking. Everything in God's purpose will certainly come to pass. Yet He leads people's hearts to ask, and that asking morally fills out their relationship with Him. In Christ, as man, this was perfect.
Why was nothing refused Him? Look at the One who was doing the asking.
His exaltation is a witness that every desire of the heart of Christ agreed with the thoughts of God. That is why the godly say, "You have given Him His heart's desire, and have not withheld the request of His lips."
Set what men did to Him beside what God has done for Him.
At the hands of men His days were shortened; at the hands of God He is given length of days for ever and ever. They heaped upon Him shame and dishonour; God has given Him glory, honour and majesty. Men filled His path with trial and sorrow. God has blessed Him for ever, and made Him glad beyond measure with His own favour.
The verse sets His asking beside His answer. That makes it a model of prayer that works.
But here is One fully proved and perfectly trustworthy — "You have given Him His heart's desire, and have not withheld the request of His lips." Nothing could be simpler! "If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you" (John 15:7). That is definite enough, and simple — a perfect account of prevailing prayer. His words form the desires and govern the heart; the will is perfect and so the prayer prevails. Christ the Lord, even upon the throne, is an Example for us, exceptional only as His perfection is exceptional.
One writer follows the same asking and answering into what the Son asked for His own people.
In John 17:24, the Son presents to the Father His desires for those whom the Father had given Him: "Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world." The Son knows that His Father's eternal love would give Him His heart's desire, and would not withhold the request of His lips.
- Asked — He asked life, and the request was not withheld. His dependence in asking was His perfection as a man, though God's purpose was already certain.
- Answered — not rescue from dying, but resurrection. He received length of days for ever and ever, having committed His spirit into the Father's hands.
- Accepted — nothing was refused Him because nothing in His heart was out of step with God's thoughts. His exaltation proves it.
- Applied — the same principle works in us: when His words shape our desires, our asking prevails. He is our Example, exceptional only in His perfection.
- Extended — His heart's desire reached past Himself. He asked that His own be with Him where He is, to see His glory.
For thou hast met him with the blessings of goodness; thou hast set a crown of pure gold on his head.
Psalm 21 answers the prayer of Psalm 20. What that psalm asked for the King, God has now granted. Verse 3 stands at the centre of that answer — God does not merely reply to the King, He comes out to meet Him, and crowns Him.
Older translations read the first half of the verse as "you prevent him with the blessings of goodness." That word "prevent" once meant something different:
"To go before," to anticipate (from the Latin praevenio), "to come before."
So God arrives before He is even asked. One writer sees more here than a granted request:
In Psalm 21 we get the full answer to Psalm 20 and its desires: the exaltation of Christ. That exaltation throws its light back on the true character of that psalm... More than that — Jehovah met Him with free and willing love, with the blessing of goodness, and crowned Him in glory.
The blessings are not just pleasant things handed over. They carry the character of the One giving them:
You cannot measure the "goodness of God" in human terms. It holds all that is generous, joyful and loving. It expresses what He Himself is — for God is good... In the same way, our portion is centred in One who is always the Object of God's pleasure and delight — the One the Psalmist spoke of in advance in this verse.
Commentators differ on what the gold pictures. Where the ESV reads "fine gold," these writers use an older translation reading "pure gold." One takes the purity as moral, and ties it to how long the reign lasts:
His crown is one of "pure gold" (v. 3); that is, of unsullied righteousness; and therefore His kingdom such as will last (Heb. 1:8-9); "length of days for ever and ever" (v. 4).
Another reads it as the glory of God itself, and makes the crown a statement about why this King reigns at all:
God meets Him with blessings that are truly blessings: He sets a crown of pure gold on His head. What is this but the glory of God, which He, now enthroned, is to bring about? For this was the desire of His heart... This is the very meaning of His reign. Sin entered by man, to God's dishonour; so by man also the evil shall be undone, to His eternal praise.
One writer sets this crown against another crown:
The desire of His heart is fulfilled, as it will be when God sets the royal crown of pure gold on His head — the head that was once crowned with thorns. He had gone down into the jaws of death, and then received life — yes, eternal life. He received it as the head of the new creation, which shares this life He has received.
The crowning is God's public answer to what men did to Him:
In resurrection He is granted His heart's desire. He is sitting at God's right hand with "a crown of pure gold on His head." He has received what He asked of God, "even length of days for ever and ever."... Men took His life from the earth. But God has answered men by raising Him from the dead, and there He lives in the power of an endless life (Heb. 7:16).
The verse is not only about Him. Those who trust Him are looking at the One who went ahead of them:
The blessings of goodness come out to meet, with perfect favour, the acceptable Man who rests on the Father's throne. Grief once filled the heart of the Man of sorrows until it broke, and His suffering was for our sakes. That grief is now forgotten in the overwhelming gladness of Jehovah's face. To know these things is the believer's chief delight. For the One he sees crowned is his Saviour and forerunner.
- Met — God does not wait to be asked. The older word "prevent" means to go before, to anticipate. God comes out to meet the King with blessings before He asks.
- Goodness — the blessings carry what God is: generous, joyful and loving, because God is good. The gift and the Giver have the same character.
- Gold — one writer reads the pure gold as unsullied righteousness, so the kingdom lasts for ever. Another reads it as the glory of God, which this King reigns to bring about.
- Thorns — the head that wears this crown is the head men once crowned with thorns. The crowning is God's answer to the cross, given in resurrection.
- Forerunner — the sorrow that broke His heart is now forgotten in gladness. The believer's delight is that the crowned Man is his own Saviour, gone on ahead of him.
He asked life of thee; thou gavest [it] him, length of days for ever and ever.
The King asked God for life. What came back was not a few more years but days without end. Who is this King, and what life is He given — rescue from dying, or something on the far side of death?
The One speaking here does not take life by right. He asks for it. One writer sets that asking beside Gethsemane's cry and follows it through Christ's life.
If we compare Hebrews 5:7 and Gethsemane's cry, I think the force of the Psalm will be clear. The answer in the Psalm is not that He was kept from dying. It is life as risen in glory above, made most blessed for ever. God did not spare His life for a time here. Instead He laid honour and great majesty on Him as man, in a higher and more glorious condition. Christ as a man, though mighty to do all things, asked everything of His Father. Dependence was His perfection. At Lazarus' tomb He asked, and knew His Father heard Him always; He asked in John 12; He asked that the cup might pass. The certainty of an event does not stop the asking. Everything in God's purpose will certainly be done; but He leads people's hearts to ask, as the moral filling up of their relationship with Him. In Christ, as man, this was perfect.
If He asked for life and still went to the cross, how was He heard? One writer points to the resurrection, and finds an earlier stage of the answer too.
God heard Jesus first by an inward deliverance. God enabled Him to take the cup from His Father's hand, and not from the hand of Satan… But He was heard more fully in His resurrection. "He asked life of you; you gave it to him, length of days forever and ever," Psalm 21:4.
The Man whose days were cut short is the Man given endless days. One writer names the puzzle and its solution.
Death, which ends the days of fallen man, becomes the means of prolonging the days of this perfect Man. What a seeming paradox this is! As someone has said, "He is 'cut off from the land of the living'; He is buried, and yet He will live and His days will go on." The resurrection is the glorious answer to this paradox. It is no part of God's pleasure that man should lie under the sentence of death, any more than that he should come under judgment for his sins… So we see the pleasure of the LORD not only displayed in Christ, but secured by Christ.
The phrase is not poetic exaggeration for a long reign. It carries the full weight of the word eternal, and it marks off two different worlds.
Length of days for ever and ever is basic to the truth of eternal life wherever we meet it. The words "eternal" and "everlasting" carry that meaning in themselves. It sets the short span of human life in this world against the eternal relations of those whom God blesses in the resurrection world.
The gift of unending days sits next to the crown of pure gold in the previous verse, and the two belong together.
His crown is one of "pure gold" (v. 3); that is, of spotless righteousness. So His kingdom is one that will last (Heb. 1:8-9): "length of days for ever and ever" (v. 4).
The words can be read at more than one level, and commentators are careful about the difference.
Verse 3 looks back to the very time He was facing death. At that time He asked life from God (Heb. 5:7), and God gave it to Him in resurrection — "length of days forever and ever" (v. 4). In one respect this is true of David too, and of all believers, who are blessed with eternal life in Christ. But the language here has only One in view — One who is King.
- Asked. The King does not seize life; He requests it from God, and that dependence in prayer is His perfection.
- Answered. The reply was not escape from dying but resurrection — He was heard, most fully, when God raised Him.
- Reversed. Death, which ends the days of fallen man, became the very means of prolonging the days of this perfect Man.
- Endless. "Length of days for ever and ever" carries the full sense of eternal: not a long human life, but the resurrection world.
- Shared. His crown of pure gold means a kingdom that lasts. Believers too are blessed with eternal life in Christ — though the verse itself has One King in view.
His glory is great through thy salvation; majesty and splendour hast thou laid upon him.
Psalm 20 was a prayer for the King in trouble. Psalm 21 celebrates the answer, and verse 5 shows what God gave Him: a great glory, with splendor and majesty laid on Him.
Men had rejected this King, and death stood before Him. What He asked God for was life. (Some Bible translations read "in Your salvation" and "honour and majesty" where the ESV reads "through your salvation" and "splendor and majesty".)
In Psalm 21 we get the inspired answer to this godly desire, already anticipated in Psalm 20:3, 6. So here they celebrate, in prophecy, the triumph of the Christ. He has been heard. But now we have His desires explained, His earthly sorrows opened out. Death was before Him. He asked life of Jehovah, and God heard Him. But how, after all? In length of days (as man) for ever and ever. They say to Jehovah, "His glory is great in Your salvation. Honour and majesty You have laid upon Him." In a word, the right hand of God has exalted the rejected Messiah, and set Him in glory and majesty above.
This glory comes through a rescue. One writer ties it to the prayer Jesus prayed when His hour came, and to what faith can see already.
The prayer of Jesus to the Father, when His hour had arrived, was "Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you" (John 17:1). This passage sets out the results of His gracious suffering: "His glory is great in Your salvation." The spiritual man can already see this by faith. "We see Jesus crowned with glory and honour" (Heb. 2:9). Great glory is His, whom God has made higher than the heavens.
God places this honour on Him. So which glory does the verse mean? The Son of God never lacked glory of His own.
It is not the intrinsic glory of the Son of God — Himself the Life, the true God and eternal Life (1 John 5:20) — that is here presented. Instead, it displays the Messianic honour that God has laid on the guiltless Sufferer of death as the appointed Heir of all things (Heb. 1:2). Here in particular, this glory appears under the limited, earthly side of Jewish promise. We do well to note the true prophetic character of this Psalm. Yet its subject is Christ glorified, so the eye of Christian faith finds in these verses a rich and full pasture of immediate grace.
Set beside the way men treated Him, each gift in the verse reverses something they did.
The exaltation of Christ also shows God's infinite delight and satisfaction in the One whom men rejected. Men cut His days short; God gives Him length of days for ever and ever. They heaped shame and dishonour on Him; God has given Him glory, honour and majesty. Men filled His path with trial and sorrow. God has blessed Him for ever, and filled Him with gladness by divine favour.
Why is the glory great? Everything in it comes to Him as a gift, and the gift does not stop with Him.
He has gone down into death, and He receives even life itself as the gift of God. That eternal life becomes the portion of the new creation, and He is its Head. In the same way "His salvation" becomes a true salvation of countless people. That is what makes it great indeed, and great His glory. In all these things He is the Representative of others. To be this — the Saviour of multitudes who will adore Him forever — is without question what "His glory is great in Your salvation" means.
One Person links the depths and the glory.
The same blessed Person went down the whole way to the deepest depths because of sin. He is now in the centre of the glory, and supreme in the administration of all the bounty of God. "His glory is great in Your salvation."
And this is not distant news for the reader.
To know these things is the believer's chief delight. For it is his Saviour and forerunner whom he sees crowned in this way.
- Asked — death stood before the King, and He asked God for life. Psalm 21 records the answer to the prayer of Psalm 20.
- Answered — God gave Him life: length of days for ever and ever, and His right hand set the rejected Messiah on high.
- Crowned — God lays honour and majesty on Him. This is not the glory He always had as the Son of God, but Messianic honour for the Heir of all things, and it reverses the dishonour men gave Him.
- Shared — the glory is great because the salvation reaches multitudes. He wears it as the Representative and Saviour of countless people.
- Seen — faith sees Him now: "We see Jesus crowned with glory and honour." The One at the centre of the glory is the One who went to the depths.
For thou hast made him to be blessings for ever; thou hast filled him with joy by thy countenance.
In Psalm 20, God's people pray for their King; in Psalm 21 they celebrate the answer. Verse 6 is its high point: it says what God has made of the King, and where His gladness now comes from.
Facing death, the King had one request.
In Psalm 21 we get the full answer to Psalm 20 and its desires, in the exaltation of Christ... He had asked life of Jehovah (compare Heb. 5). He gave it to Him, but it was length of days for ever and ever, the abiding eternal life of the risen glorified man. That was the answer to the cry of the suffering Messiah when death was before Him... The glory of the Father raised Him from the dead. Jehovah has laid honour and majesty upon Him. He has made Him most blessed for ever and glad with Jehovah's countenance.
This blessing has a price behind it.
Jesus has now His heart's desire. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, despising the shame, and now He sits at the right hand of the throne of God. The world rejected Him. His reward and comfort now are the joy of the Father's presence and the brightness of the glory He has received from Him. God has made Him most blessed for ever.
Commentators differ over how to read the first half of the verse. A note in the margin, and some translations, read that God made Him blessings. He does not only receive blessing; He becomes blessing for others.
Christ is made blessings; not only is He the Blesser, but He is made Blessings for evermore (see Ps. 21:6, margin) and all that is on God's account towards mankind.
Read that way, the verse describes a role He now fills in heaven.
As gone on high, our Lord Jesus Christ is made "blessings for ever" (Psalm 21:6. See New Trans.). As Son over God's House, He is the Administrator of all blessing.
The second half of the verse names the source of His joy.
"You make Him glad with the joy of Your presence." This reminds us of Psalm 16:11, "In Your presence there is fullness of joy." His close fellowship with the Father is a vital reason for His joy.
Where the ESV says "presence," older translations read "your countenance" — God's face.
The "throne" suggests distance, the "face" suggests knowledge and intimacy. Character is declared in the face. For ever God will be showing His perfections to His redeemed people. We will always be learning what kind of God we are dealing with. Psalm 21:6 says: "You have made him exceedingly glad with Your countenance."
Verse 6 is not only about Him.
What follows is one of the few passages in scripture that tells us the Lord's present experience. In worship the Holy Spirit fills the believer's soul with that same experience, because we have "part with Him." (John 13.) ... He is full of gladness. Once a "Man of sorrows," He is now the "Man of joy." We talk of the happiness of heaven. My delight is that there is One there whose joy is, and always will be, beyond that of everyone else.
- Answer — Psalm 21 answers the prayer of Psalm 20. Facing death, the King asked for life. God gave it in resurrection — "length of days for ever and ever."
- Cost — This blessing is what the cross bought. The world rejected Him; now the Father's glory is His settled reward.
- Reach — The margin reads made blessings. He is not only the One blessed; He is the channel through whom every blessing comes.
- Nearness — His gladness comes from a face, not a throne. In God's presence there is fullness of joy, and His people will keep learning who God is for ever.
- Share — Believers have part with Him. The Man of sorrows is now the Man of joy, and worship draws us into His gladness.
For the king confideth in Jehovah and through the loving-kindness of the Most High he shall not be moved.
Psalm 21 celebrates a King already crowned and glad, and verse 7 gives the reason for it all: He trusted. So who speaks these words, and why does a crowned King's safety rest on trust rather than on His own power?
The psalm speaks about the king rather than in his own voice.
As for the Psalms, I do not accept that they are all the words of our Lord. Even in some psalms where His voice is clearly heard, there are other voices too. So in Psalms 20 and 21 we hear the voice of those who pray and give thanks on behalf of Jehovah's Anointed rather than His own voice. At least they express their interest and agreement with His desires, and then acknowledge how all these desires are fulfilled to the very last detail.
Everything listed before verse 7 — the crown, the honour, the endless days — is not handed out at random. This verse names its cause.
This exaltation and blessing is seen as the direct answer to the faithfulness of Christ when He suffered at the hands of men.
Those watching are already sure of a victory that has not yet happened.
This continues the words of the remnant that we had in the previous psalm. They first speak to Jehovah, admitting that they have a full and glorious expectation of the victory of their King, and that He will be established in His kingdom, because He had trusted in Him, His God. (See Psalm 18:2-3; Hebrews 2:13; Hebrews 5:7.)
We might expect trust to belong to the weak, and glory to end the need for it.
Even when He is displayed in His glory we are reminded that the King trusts in the Lord. Such is the true place of Man — dependent on the living God. He recognises too that His remaining unmoved is through the mercy of the Most High. So although the King Himself will be seen, the power behind Him is unseen. This will be true throughout the 1000 years of peace.
The verse does not just say God. It uses a title with its own claim about who governs the earth.
The name El is also used with ELION, and is then translated "the Most High God." Look at the various places where this name is found and you will see that it is God's "millennial name above all idolatrous gods and demons and all power." It is in this character that God is called "possessor of heaven and earth."
Read that way, the King's stability is not a private comfort. The One who owns everything the King will rule stands behind it.
Elsewhere in the Psalms, a wicked man says the very same thing.
A friend at our right hand is a friend at our side, whom we can turn to at any moment. The wicked man, trusting in himself, "says in his heart, 'I shall not be moved'" — only to come under the judgment of the LORD. The godly man, trusting in the LORD at his right hand, can say, "I shall not be moved." And he can say it with complete confidence, for if the Lord says, "I will never leave you nor forsake you," then "we can confidently say, 'The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?'"
Verse 7 is the hinge. Once the King's trust and God's response are settled, the psalm turns to those who set themselves against Him.
In verses 3 to 7, the exaltation of Christ bears witness to the righteous government of God. It is only right that the One who was the faithful witness for God in the middle of evil should be raised to a place of glory. In verses 8 to 12, the judgment carried out on the enemies of Christ bears witness to that same government. It is only right that those who have rejected Christ — the perfect witness for God — should come under judgment. The One whom man rejected is appointed to carry out the judgment.
- Trust first. The crown, honour and long life of verses 1–6 are not the King's achievement. Verse 7 names their cause: He trusted.
- Answer next. Commentators read His exaltation as God's direct answer to His faithfulness while men did their worst.
- Name behind it. "Most High" names the One who owns heaven and earth. The King's safety rests on the One who owns what He will govern.
- Unseen power. Even in open glory the King still trusts. Dependence is the true place of Man, and the power holding Him up stays unseen.
- Two ways to be unmoved. The wicked say "I shall not be moved" out of self-confidence, and they fall. The same words spoken in trust stand — and the psalm moves straight on to judgment for the King's enemies.
Thy hand shall find out all thine enemies; thy right hand shall find out those that hate thee.
Psalm 21 turns at this verse. The King has just been crowned and glorified. Now He stretches out a hand that no enemy escapes. Whose hand is it, and why does a psalm about glory end in fire?
The psalm has two halves. One writer sets the crowning of Christ and the judgment of His enemies side by side, as two proofs of one principle:
In verses 3 to 7, the exaltation of Christ bears witness to the righteous government of God. It is only right that the One who stayed a faithful witness for God while evil surrounded Him should be raised to a place of glory. In verses 8 to 12, the judgment carried out on the enemies of Christ bears witness to that same righteous government. It is only right that those who have rejected Christ — the perfect witness for God — should come under judgment. And the One whom man rejected is the One appointed to carry out that judgment.
The phrase pictures a search that succeeds. Nothing hides from it:
All that would oppose this is found out and judged. The King's right hand of power will expose those who hate Him.
The search also settles what the opposition was worth:
The complete powerlessness of all who oppose the Lord will be made plain. The evil they intended, and the harmful schemes they dreamed up, they were never able to carry out.
So whose hand is this? One writer names the King of the psalm, and reads verse 8 as the start of His reign:
The King is again named in Psalm 21. It is clearly Christ, for He has "length of days forever and ever," and is "most blessed forever." … This can only be Christ, the true seed of David and God's righteous governor. He takes up the rule which the first man could not keep, and He begins His reign with judgment on His enemies.
Another writer puts the King's hand and Jehovah's part in one breath:
Man's hatred and schemes are on display. Man's judgment follows. The King's right hand finds out all His enemies. Jehovah will swallow them up.
Why does exaltation lead straight to fire? The answer lies in the suffering behind this psalm. One writer marks off two things that are easy to confuse:
What we see here is not His atoning sufferings, but the harmful schemes of men. So His sufferings do not bring peace, but judgment. Here, then, we have three things. Christ suffers and cries to Jehovah. Christ is exalted as man, crowned with glory and honour. Christ carries out judgment on His enemies.
The same writer sorts out the two sides, and says where Christ is now while judgment waits:
Christ's sufferings have two distinct sides. The one was for righteousness, and it brings judgment. The other was for sin, and it brings blessing. … Christ now waits at God's right hand, expecting to take vengeance on those enemies of His who crucified Him with wicked hands.
This verse does not describe something happening today. It belongs to one moment — the start of the reign:
Verses 8-13 describe some of the effects of Messiah's second coming, in the majesty of that power and coming. The world today rates it no better than a clever fable. Soon it will be seen with the eye. Having received the kingdom, He will return. In that dreadful day the strong right hand of His most holy vengeance will find His enemies.
Judgment falls on men who take a settled stand against Christ. And no reader should take this verse from a safe distance:
But verse 8 will be in righteousness on those who have rejected all His love. It is not until men become adversaries that the fire of the Lord destroys them (verse 9). We were once the children of wrath. Your grace alone makes us differ.
- Rejected. The suffering in this psalm came from men's hands, not from God's judgment on sin. Suffering like that does not end in peace. It ends in a reckoning.
- Exalted. The same righteousness that raised the faithful witness to glory will deal with those who refused Him. One rule of government, two halves of one psalm.
- Found. To "find out" is a search that succeeds. The King's hand reaches every enemy, exposes each one, and leaves their schemes powerless.
- Delayed. The hand does not fall today. It falls when the King returns to reign. Judgment opens His kingdom; it is not an afterthought.
- Spared. What separates us from His enemies is mercy, not merit. We were once children of wrath ourselves. Grace alone made the difference.
Thou shalt make them as a fiery furnace in the time of thy presence; Jehovah shall swallow them up in his anger, and the fire shall devour them
The psalm has just crowned a King with glory, honour and endless life. Verse 9 turns without warning to fire, and raises two questions: whose anger is this, and when does it fall?
The oven behind this picture is the household oven of ordinary life.
Except in cities, where some worked as bakers with built-up ovens, every household usually had its own simple oven. People dug a hole in the ground and coated it with clay, which hardened in the heat of the fire. Any kind of grass dried quickly in the sun, and they threw it into the oven to heat it. They made the bread into thin cakes and baked them by sticking them to the sides of the oven... The heat of the oven stands as a symbol of rapid destruction. Ps. 21:9; Mal. 4:1.
The One who heats the oven is the King the psalm has just crowned. One writer sets the verse beside a parable Jesus told about His enemies.
In these two psalms we have the rejected Messiah exalted by God, honour and majesty put upon Him, and length of days given Him for ever and ever. He had suffered from men, been despised and rejected by them, and God has glorified Him as man. Notice the result. His hand finds out all His enemies, His right hand those that hate Him. He makes them as a fiery oven in the day of His anger. For they intended harm against Him, which they were not able to carry out. As He said Himself in a parable: "But as for these enemies of mine, who did not want me to reign over them, bring them here and slaughter them before me."
The same writer separates two kinds of suffering in Christ's life, and each has its own consequence.
Notice also the essential difference between what Christ suffered from man and what He suffered from God. The first was for righteousness, the second for sin. The consequence of the first (Psalm 21) is that He will make His enemies as a fiery oven in the day of His wrath. In the second He was bearing wrath: the consequence is all unmixed blessing, and nothing else, as its fruit.
Another writer reads the two halves of the psalm as one argument.
In verses 3 to 7, the exaltation of Christ bears witness to the righteous government of God. In verses 8 to 12, the judgment carried out on the enemies of Christ bears witness to that same righteous government. It is only righteous that those who have rejected Christ — the perfect witness for God — should come under judgment (John 16:9-11). God has appointed the One whom man rejected to execute the judgment (Acts 17:31)... The utter powerlessness of all who oppose the Lord will then be plain.
"When you appear" places this at a moment still future. One writer ties it to the gathered armies described elsewhere in Scripture.
Verses 8-13 describe some of the effects of Messiah's second coming in the majesty of that power. The world now thinks it no better than a clever fable, but soon it will be seen. Having received the kingdom He will return (Luke 19:12). In that dreadful day the strong right hand of His most holy vengeance will find His enemies. He will begin His reign by suddenly destroying the crowds who gather themselves together as the armies of the Beast. He will hold the kingdom until He has subdued all enemies beneath His feet (1 Cor. 15:25)... These judgments must come before the Lord's song is revived in the land of promise.
There is a gap between the King's exaltation and His anger, and we are living in it.
But verse 8 falls in righteousness on those who have rejected all His love. It is not until men become adversaries that the fire of the Lord destroys them (v. 9). We were once the children of wrath, and only His grace makes us different (v. 10)... Now is the time between those two psalms.
The verse is also hard to sing. One writer counts such words among what a Christian cannot take onto his own lips:
The Christian is taught by example and instruction to pray for his enemies and to return them good for evil. How can he then use such language...? Passages appear all through the Psalms that are quite unsuitable for the lips of the Christian, though they suit the period they have in view.
- Rejected — Men despised the King and schemed against Him; every one of their schemes failed.
- Exalted — God answered that rejection by crowning Him with glory, honour and endless life.
- Returning — He receives the kingdom, then returns. His right hand finds out those who hate Him.
- Consumed — The oven is a picture of destruction that is total and swift, not drawn out.
- Meanwhile — We live in the space between the two psalms. The fire falls on adversaries, and grace alone makes anyone different.
Their fruit shalt thou destroy from the earth, and their seed from among the children of men.
Psalm 21 praises a King whom God has crowned, and from verse 8 it turns to what that King will do to those who hate Him. This verse is the sharpest line in that turn: the sentence does not stop with the guilty man but reaches his children.
The second half of the psalm is not about the present. Commentators read it as the effects of Christ's return in visible power:
Verses 8-13 describe some of the effects of Messiah's second coming, in the majesty of that power and coming. The world now thinks it is no better than a clever fable, but soon it will come into sight. Having received the kingdom, He will return (Luke 19:12). In that dreadful day the strong right hand of His most holy vengeance will find His enemies. He begins His reign by suddenly destroying the crowds who gather as the armies of the Beast. He will hold the kingdom until He has put all enemies under His feet (1 Cor. 15:25).
The verse names two things: descendants and offspring. Older translations read "fruit" and "seed" here, and commentators differ on the sense. One reads it of the man's family, because his hostility spreads to those around him:
So not only people, but whole households will be judged. One man's hostility spreads to his family, and the Lord Jesus will see how far the evil influence reached and will judge it in full.
Another reads the "fruit" as the product of their evil rather than as their children:
Not only will the wicked be dealt with, but the "fruit" of their evil will be destroyed from the earth. All who oppose the Lord will prove completely powerless. They could not carry out the evil they intended or the harmful schemes they imagined.
Two verses earlier, the psalm speaks of God's hand finding out His enemies. That phrase explains why the sentence is total. Eyes that miss nothing do the searching, and the judgment clears the ground for the earth's release.
Now His hand finds out all His enemies: none can escape, when the eye that searches for them is all-knowing. His coming is the appointed time for destroying the united opposition against the Lord and His Christ... The destruction will be sudden and complete, as these vivid images picture. Fruit and seed alike will perish from the earth. The time for the earth's deliverance from oppression has now come — the time to "destroy the destroyers of the earth." (Rev. 11:18.)
Read alone, the verse sounds like raw power. Beside the first half of the psalm, it is one principle with two sides. The same government that lifted Christ up also puts down those who refused Him.
In verses 3 to 7, the exaltation of Christ shows God's righteous government. It is only right that the One who was the faithful witness for God in the middle of evil should be raised to a place of glory. In verses 8 to 12, the judgment carried out on Christ's enemies shows God's righteous government. It is only right that those who have rejected Christ — the perfect witness for God — should come under judgment (John 16:9-11). The One whom man rejected is appointed to carry out the judgment (Acts 17:31).
The next verse in the psalm gives the reason, and it is personal. Hatred aimed at God's people counts as hatred aimed at Christ Himself.
The eleventh verse states the reason for this action of divine power: it is their malice against Christ. That malice, as we know, may be shown in the persecution of His people. (Acts 9:4, and compare Matt. 25:45.) In fact, the Israelite remnant will be snatched from the very jaws of their enemies when the Lord appears. (Zech. 14.)
The destroying is not the last word of the psalm. It clears the way for a reign, and the closing verse turns the whole scene into song.
After this, in this psalm He carries out judgment and justice on His enemies. This prepares the way for the millennial reign... Then comes the millennium in the last verse: "Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength! We will sing and praise your power."
- Cause. The sentence is not random. It answers malice against Christ, shown in the persecution of His people.
- Search. "Find out" is the key phrase: the eye that searches is all-knowing, so no enemy escapes.
- Reach. One man's hostility spreads to his family. So the judgment reaches his descendants, and the fruit of that evil perishes from the earth.
- Justice. The same government that crowned the faithful Witness must also judge those who refused Him. God has appointed the rejected Man as the Judge.
- Result. The clearing is for the sake of a kingdom. Judgment comes first, the reign follows, and the psalm closes not in dread but in praise.
For they intended evil against thee; they imagined a mischievous device, which they could not execute.
Psalm 21 celebrates a king who is crowned, answered, and safe from harm. Then it turns to the people who wanted him dead. This verse gives the reason for the judgment around it. The plot was real. It targeted the King himself. It still failed.
Older translations open this verse with "For." That word marks it as the reason for the fire and destruction in the lines just before. One writer reads it that way, and adds that malice against Christ can fall on the people who belong to Him.
Verse eleven gives the cause of this action of the divine power: their malice against Christ. As we know, that malice can show itself in the persecution of His people (Acts 9:4, and compare Matt. 25:45). In fact, at the appearing of the Lord, the Israelite remnant will be snatched out of the very jaws of their enemies (Zech. 14).
Who are these enemies, and what did they want? One writer answers both questions, and says where they end up.
Afterwards those enemies are brought before Him. They would not have Him reign over them. They thought up a scheme they were not able to carry out, to cast down the One whom God would exalt. They would not say, "Let the king hear when we call," or "Jehovah, fulfil all your petitions."
That last detail is worth pausing on. These enemies would not even ask God to answer the King's prayers.
They could not do it. So does a plan that never worked still count? One writer answers plainly: God sees what these men intended, and He will judge it.
Though we cannot judge the thoughts of others, God does discern that these enemies intended evil against the Lord Jesus, and the day is coming when "God will judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ" (Rom. 2:16). They may not have been able to perform their evil intentions against the King, but they will be judged for their wicked plans.
Here the Messiah suffers at human hands, not under the wrath of God. A writer traces the line from that suffering to what happens to those who caused it.
In these two psalms, then, we have the rejected Messiah exalted by God. Honour and majesty are put on Him, and length of days is given Him for ever and ever. He had suffered from men, who despised and rejected Him, and God has glorified Him as man. Notice the result. His hand finds out all His enemies. His right hand finds those who hate Him. He makes them like a fiery oven in the day of His anger. For they intended mischief against Him, which they were not able to carry out.
The next psalm shows the other kind of suffering. The same writer sets the two apart, with the very different fruit each one bears:
Notice also the essential difference between the sufferings of Christ from man and from God. The first were for righteousness, the second for sin. The consequence of the first (Psalm 21) is that He will make His enemies like a fiery oven in the day of His wrath. In the second He was bearing wrath, and the consequence is pure blessing, and nothing else, as its fruit.
The failed plan is not answered on the spot. One writer places the settlement at Christ's return, when the world will see what it now dismisses as a story.
Verses 8-13 describe some of the effects of Messiah's second coming. He comes in the majesty of that power and appearing which the world now thinks no better than a clever fable, but which will soon be seen. Having received the kingdom He will return (Luke 19:12)… In this Psalm the reference is directly to the alliance of nations, formed before the millennium, whose eyes will be set for evil on Immanuel's land.
Commentators differ on how far this reaches. Some see mainly the enemies who rejected Christ when He first came. Others, like the writer above, look ahead to a final gathering of nations against His land.
- Cause. The verse is the "why" behind the judgment beside it — malice aimed at the King, and at those who belong to Him.
- Plot. The aim was to pull down the very One God meant to lift up.
- Powerless. They planned it and could not do it. The verse records the failure as clearly as the intent.
- Weighed. A plan that fails is still a plan God judges. He reads the secrets men never got to act on.
- Contrast. Suffering from men ends in judgment on men. Suffering under wrath ends in nothing but blessing.
For thou wilt make them turn their back; thou wilt make ready thy bowstring against their face.
Psalm 21 celebrates a King who received all He asked for, and its second half turns to what that King will do with His enemies. Verse 12 is the moment their attack collapses: they turn and run, facing a drawn bow.
The psalm belongs to a pair. In Psalm 20 the godly pray for their King in His day of trouble; Psalm 21 is the answer, spoken to God about what He has granted His Anointed One.
In Psalm 20 the godly ones tell the King their desires for Him to be heard in the day of trouble, and how they will rejoice in His salvation (1-5). Then they voice their confidence about His deliverance, and their own too (6-8). "Save, LORD" is their cry. "Let the King hear us when we call" (9). In Psalm 21 they address the LORD, who has heard the prayer of His Anointed One. They recount what He has given to Him, and set out what the King will do with His enemies, since the LORD has taken up His cause.
Verse 11 speaks of evil planned against the King that never succeeds. Verse 12 shows what becomes of the plotters.
Though we cannot judge the thoughts of others, God does discern that these enemies intended evil against the Lord Jesus. The day is coming when "God judges the secrets of men by Christ Jesus" (Rom. 2:16). They may not have been able to carry out their evil intentions against the King, but God will judge them for their wicked plans. He will make them turn their backs in confusion, sending His arrows (His long-range warfare) to carry out His purpose.
The picture behind "put them to flight" is physical.
Verse 12: literally, "turn their shoulder."
The psalm names the cause one verse earlier. It reaches further than the plotters.
The eleventh verse states the cause of this action of the divine power: it is their malice against Christ. As we know, that malice may show itself in the persecution of His people (Acts 9:4, and compare Matt. 25:45). In fact, at the appearing of the Lord, the remnant of Israel will be snatched from the very jaws of their adversaries (Zech. 14). The following verse may well speak of the humiliating defeat of these baffled foes.
The first half of the psalm and the second half make one argument. The exaltation of Christ and the judgment of His enemies are two sides of the same righteousness.
In verses 3 to 7, the exaltation of Christ bears witness to the righteous government of God. He was the faithful witness for God in the middle of evil, so it is only righteous that He should be exalted to a place of glory. In verses 8 to 12, the judgment carried out on the enemies of Christ bears witness to that same righteous government. It is only righteous that those who have rejected Christ — the perfect witness for God — should come under judgment (John 16:9-11). God has appointed the One whom man rejected to execute the judgment (Acts 17:31)… It will be plain that all who oppose the Lord are completely powerless. The evil they intended, and the mischievous schemes they imagined, they were unable to carry out.
The praise that follows this rout has a particular character. It is not the grace of the cross that fills these thoughts, but rescue by power.
As the souls under the altar prayed that their blood might be avenged, so these saints have been crying for deliverance through the judgment of their adversaries. Christ's coming brings them deliverance from earthly tribulation and settles them in earthly blessing… Here they are not thinking of the grace of God in giving His Son, or of the love of Christ in redeeming them with His blood. Their thoughts are on the delivering might which has stepped in with judgment on their behalf. This is the constant theme of the Psalms.
The rout is not the last word. The psalm's closing verse turns the scattered enemy into a reason for song.
Here once more the psalm looks ahead in prophecy to the downfall and complete overthrow of the enemies, when the King reigns. Then we hear in the last verse a prophetic prayer, that all this might be accomplished. "Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength." And when He is exalted, then Israel redeemed will sing — "We will sing and praise your power."
- Answer. Psalm 21 is the reply to the prayer of Psalm 20 — God has heard His Anointed One and now takes up His cause.
- Cause. The power in verse 12 answers malice against Christ. That malice can show itself in attacks on His people.
- Failure. The plotters never managed the evil they intended. God judges them for the plan and turns them back in confusion.
- Right. Exalting the faithful Witness and judging those who rejected Him are two sides of one righteousness.
- Song. The scattering ends in praise: when He is exalted in His own strength, the redeemed sing of that power.
Be thou exalted, Jehovah, in thine own strength we will sing and celebrate thy power.
Psalm 21 ends with a prayer and a promise. Older translations join the two with one small word: "so will we sing" — and that "so" ties the song to all the psalm has said about the King's glory and the fall of His enemies.
The verses just before this one describe enemies overthrown. The final verse asks God to bring that whole scene about, and looks past the asking to the answer.
Here once more the downfall and complete overthrow of the enemies, when the King reigns, is prophetically anticipated. Then we hear in the last verse a prophetic prayer, that all this might be accomplished. "Be exalted, LORD, in Your own strength." And when He is exalted, then Israel redeemed will sing — "So will we sing and praise Your power."
The prayer does not ask God for outside help. It asks Him to rise in strength that already belongs to Him — and that strength becomes the song.
The power of God has always been the confidence and glory of His saints. That He has a mighty arm is the security of their salvation. His power is their praise, whether in heaven or on earth (Rev. 4:8; Ps. 21:13). That power belongs to Him alone, while man is less than nothing, is the standing confession of their lips (Ps. 62:9-11). Those whom the Spirit leads go only in that strength (Ps. 71:16)... Once we own that power belongs to God alone, we know it is already on our side.
The "so" links the singing to what God has just done to His enemies. One writer weighs what fills the singers' thoughts — and what does not.
The throne before which they stand is not one of mercy, but of righteousness, and the Lamb is seen here not as slain for sin, but as executing judgment... They are not thinking here of the grace of God in giving His Son, or of the love of Christ in redeeming them with His blood. Their thoughts are on the delivering might that has stepped in with judgment on their behalf. This is the constant theme of the Psalms: "Be exalted, Lord, in your own strength; so will we sing and praise your power." (Ps. 21:13.)
Earlier in the psalm the King Himself is lifted up and His enemies are dealt with. The closing verse gathers both into worship.
Finally the exaltation of Christ, involving the judgment of His enemies, will lead to the praise of God by the godly: "So will we sing and praise your power."
The verse does not name the singers. One writer identifies them as those who take their place with the King.
The psalm concludes with a fitting ascription of praise to the Lord the great King by those who gladly identify themselves with Him. He will indeed be exalted in His own strength, which will cause singing and praise from the lips of His redeemed saints.
They sing because they have grasped where the King now is, and what that means for them.
They come to understand the resurrection and ascension of Christ the king, as verse 7. So they know their own security — that is, His power — as a believing people, trusting in Him as the deliverer of them also in the last days. They see Him as one of their own nation, and in faith they see Him destroying His enemies, that is, their enemies; and they triumph in His victory... You may compare the last verse with Isaiah 2:11, 17.
The song at the end of the psalm is not an isolated burst of praise. It marks the point where judgment gives way to the reign. One writer adds that this order matters for the soul too.
After this, in this psalm He executes judgment and justice on His enemies, in preparation for the millennial reign... Then comes the millennium in the last verse. As the Spirit keeps and leads us, through grace, in the experience of this Psalm (21), we shall also have the experience of Psalm 23. I think too that the order in which they come is important, and that the experience of them must be learnt in that order in the soul, and it cannot be reversed.
- Prayer — The verse prays that all the psalm foretold would come true, and it already hears the answer.
- Strength — It asks God to act in strength that is His own. That power has always been the confidence, security and praise of His people.
- Judgment — The "so" ties the song to the fall of the enemies. This praise rises for rescuing might, not for the blood that redeems.
- Singers — Those who take their place with the King sing it, counting His enemies their own and His victory theirs.
- Order — Judgment first, then the reign, then the song. One writer says the soul learns them in that order and can never reverse it.
(To the chief Musician. Upon Aijeleth-Shahar. A Psalm of David.) My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? [why art thou] far from my salvation, from the words of my groaning?
The psalm opens with the cry Jesus spoke from the cross. Two questions follow: who could say these words, and why did God forsake Him?
Commentators treat this cry as unlike anything else in Scripture.
There is a saying in Psalm 22 of deep and marvellous meaning — a sentence with no parallel in the whole book of God. It stands alone in the annals of eternity.
What makes it unique is the identity of the Speaker. He had done nothing to deserve the distance He describes.
And is it really true that that One was forsaken by God? Did He hide His face from the only sinless, spotless, perfect Man who ever lived in this sinful world? Did He close His ear to the cry of One who lived only to do His will? Yes; astonishing as it is to say, God did this.
The same words appear twice in Scripture, and the Sufferer knew that as He spoke them.
Here the moving words occur as prophecy. In the Gospels they are found as history. Matthew and Mark record that the Lord spoke them on the cross. In the depths of His anguish, the Lord used the words with the fullest sense of their profound meaning. He also knew that the prophecies of Psalm 22 were being fulfilled in Himself. In this work of putting away sin by the sacrifice of Himself, the Blessed One stood alone — the God-forsaken One.
In the garden He prayed to His Father. On the cross the name changes, and the change marks what was happening.
But here the Lord is speaking from the cross. It is now not "My Father" as in the garden, but "My God." The question of sin has arisen. God, who is Judge of all, is now the fitting name to address. God is the righteous governor of the world. His nature is opposed to sin, and His being demands the punishment of sin. There can be no communion between holiness and unholiness, between light and darkness.
Yet the word is still My. Even while forsaken, He does not let go of the relationship.
The word "Eloi" in the quotation expresses nearness — "My God." It is not Hebrew, but Syriac. Coming from Him who was always so near, this expression carries deep force. There was only one moment when He could be forsaken by God: this one, when He was taking our sins upon Him. He was always in the full sunshine of God's favour, for He was holy. There was indeed a deep agony of soul when He said, "Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?"
Writers point to verse 3 as the Sufferer's own reply to His own question.
That God should forsake a perfectly righteous man in his distress is entirely contrary to God's ways with men. Yet we are assured there can be no unrighteousness with God. So from the lips of Christ Himself we learn what happened on this solemn and unique occasion. God was perfectly righteous in forsaking the absolutely righteous One, for the Lord can say, "But you are holy." So the One whom God forsakes is the One who fully vindicates God. These words also tell us how deeply Christ needed to be forsaken while bearing sins, if God's holiness was to be met and man was to be blessed.
There is a second answer to the "why."
It is this: the amazing love of God toward us poor sinners, a love which led Him not only to give His Son from His bosom, but to bruise and forsake Him on the cross. Why did He do this? Because there was no other possible way for us to escape. It was either eternal hell for us, or infinite wrath for the Sin-bearer. He chose the second, and so the place Christ now holds is the place of everyone who simply believes in Him.
Believers sometimes take these words as their own. One writer warns against that.
He was forsaken then so that we might never be. It is not true, then, that the believer is forsaken by God under any circumstance. Jesus alone could say, in the fullness of the truth, both "My God" and "Why have You forsaken Me?"
The psalm's heading, Aijeleth Shahar, points past the cry to what came out of it.
So the Psalm carries its beautiful title — Aijeleth Shahar. In a strong figure of the language it means "the dawn of the morning." For that darkest night that ever was became the dawn of an endless, cloudless day for us. He was alone, how infinitely alone, in the darkness for us. Now He can join us to Himself, no longer alone, in the light He has entered.
- Alone — the cry has no parallel in Scripture; God really did hide His face from His sinless Son.
- Alone in name — "Father" gives way to "My God" because sin is now the issue. Yet "My" remains: He still holds on to God.
- Alone by holiness — verse 3 answers the "why": God was righteous in forsaking the righteous One. The Forsaken One clears God's name.
- Alone by love — He was forsaken because there was no other way for us to escape.
- Alone so we never are — He bore that forsaking so no believer would. The psalm's title, "the dawn of the morning," makes that darkest night the daybreak He now shares with us.
My God, I cry by day, and thou answerest not; and by night, and there is no rest for me
Verse 2 carries on the cry that opened the psalm and fills in what being forsaken felt like: a voice raised by day and by night, with no reply from God. Why was this one prayer refused, what does the night stand for, and did the silence ever break?
The sorrow here is not what men did to Him. It is what God withheld. Yet the One who is forsaken keeps His hold on God, who gives nothing back.
Here is One who is absolutely forsaken by God. In His distress there is no help for Him in God. The words of His groaning call forth no response from God. His cry receives no answer from God. The night season brings Him no rest from God. And yet, the One who is forsaken like this is the only absolutely righteous One on earth. Furthermore, this righteous One, though forsaken, keeps unshaken confidence in God. He can still say, "My God."
The reason was not that God had changed. It was that Christ had taken a new place.
His cry now is, "Why have You forsaken Me?" He repeats it. In all His sufferings from the hands of man the face of God was upon Him, but now His face is turned away. Why did God forsake Him? Was it for His righteousness, His holiness, His love? No. "He was made sin." When He suffered for righteousness' sake, He was representing God before man. But when He suffered for sin, He was representing man before God. He was forsaken by all; man fled; God hid His face. He was alone when He drank the cup of wrath, and those sufferings brought nothing but blessing.
Commentators differ over which hours the night stands for. One reading points to the darkness at the crucifixion, when day turned to night.
But then the noonday sun was supernaturally eclipsed. There was darkness over the whole land from the sixth to the ninth hour. The Holy Sufferer was hidden from the eyes of men. He was closeted with God; and in the "night season" He was not silent. But out of the prevailing darkness came the cry, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"
The older wording behind these quotes reads "in the night season, and am not silent." The ESV has "by night, but I find no rest."
Another reading points back to Gethsemane, the garden where He prayed the night before the cross, and finds that prayer here.
Resurrection was the divine answer, then, to a prayer that was heard. But in the twenty-second psalm, which also stresses a prayer that was heard, we have a prayer of the same blessed Person. About it He says, "I cry by day and You do not hear; and by night, and I am not silent." Do we not have here the true Gethsemane prayer we are looking for? Here then is the awful "cup" He is looking forward to in Gethsemane. It is the subject of the one and only prayer about which it could be said, of Him who was heard always, "You do not hear."
The unanswered cry is not the psalm's last word on prayer. Later in the same psalm, the same Sufferer says that God heard Him.
"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" (Psalm 22:2, 24). Both things are, of course, true: each suited to its place.
How can both be true? The answer turns on one small word.
In the correct translation we see the answer. He could not be saved "from" death but He was saved "out of" death. At the beginning of that Psalm He was not heard, but after the work was accomplished He was heard (verses 2 and 21).
Heaven gave Him nothing that day. It stands open now, and what He did there is the reason.
Those heavens were once like copper to Him as He cried, "O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest." Now they drop down refreshing showers. They are opened wide for faith to see the Son of Man upon the throne, for He has magnified God's character in our salvation.
- Silence, not cruelty. The verse describes what God withheld, not what men inflicted — no help, no response, no rest.
- Silence explained. He was made sin. The face that had always rested on Him turned away, and He drank that cup alone.
- Silence timed. Some place the "night" in the three hours of darkness at the cross, others in the garden the night before.
- Silence broken. The same psalm that says "you do not answer" also says that when He cried, God heard — both true, each in its place.
- Silence repaid. Because heaven was shut over Him, it stands open over us.
And thou art holy, thou that dwellest amid the praises of Israel.
Psalm 22 opens with the cry Jesus made from the cross, and this third verse is the Sufferer's own answer to His own question. He does not accuse God; He calls Him holy and points to God's dwelling among His people.
These words come straight after the cry of being forsaken. They give a reason, not a complaint.
That God should forsake a perfectly righteous man in his distress is entirely contrary to the ways of God with men. Yet we are assured there can be no unrighteousness with God. So we learn from the lips of Christ Himself that on this solemn and unique occasion, God was perfectly righteous in forsaking the absolutely righteous One. This is because the Lord can say, "But you are holy." The One forsaken by God is therefore the One who entirely vindicates God. These words also tell us of the deep need for Christ to be forsaken when bearing sins, if God's holiness is to be met and man to be blessed.
At the cross God's own glory was at stake.
Because of man's sin God's glory was at stake. God's eternal attribute of justice was in question. Was God the Holy One who hated sin? Or was He One who would favour sin and overlook its due penalty? The Lord Jesus supplies the answer in His Person, and upon the cross He upheld the unchangeable holiness of God. There He declared for the whole universe to hear, "You are holy, O You who dwell among the praises of Israel." He witnessed to that holiness by confessing His own abandonment.
The reason lies in what Christ was carrying at that moment.
He had offered Himself of His own will as a sacrifice for the sins of mankind. God is absolute in holiness, so He could not show the least fellowship with the sin the Lord Jesus was bearing on that cross. In fact, since the Lord was willingly bearing our sins, God must punish Him just as He punishes sin. How deeply must the heart of God the Father be affected as well as the heart of the Lord Jesus!
One writer turns the question on the reader: what did we bring to that cross?
What do I bring to the cross? What do I have in it? My sins... The Righteous One, suffering for sin, vindicates God. Yet to Himself it was the depth of agony, when God forsook Him — at the moment, we may say, when He needed God most... It was obedience — suffering — to the fullest extent; but forsaken as He was, Christ says His God was holy all the same. We know now why it was. It was for sin, for our sins, not for righteousness. Our sins were our only contribution. What a tale that tells on our part; on His, what blessed love!
Older translations read "You who dwell among the praises of Israel." Writers link that dwelling place to the sacrifice.
The holiness of the LORD required the judgment of sin. Only then could His people, or the praises of His people, be acceptable to Him. Propitiation for sins is the foundation of worship and praise, because the place where the LORD dwells is holy.
The two halves of the verse are not two separate thoughts but cause and effect.
God is holy and cannot endure sin, so He had to forsake the spotless sin-bearer. But another thought is added: God inhabits, or dwells amid, the praises of His people. He must be known in such a way that His very presence produces praise... Our Lord was forsaken so that redemption might be accomplished. As a result, praise pours out from hearts forever delivered by grace.
The death of Christ brings us near to God, and it costs God's holiness nothing.
As a result of the death of Christ, God lives in the praises of His people without having surrendered the smallest part of His holiness. This cry of abandonment came from the very depths of His holy soul. He, the Holy One of God, "suffered for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that He might bring us to God" (1 Peter 3:18).
For Israel, that praise is still future.
How privileged we Christians are! We may worship God revealed as Father, while praise is still silent in Zion. We worship today in spirit and in truth. Soon God will be addressed as "You who dwell among the praises of Israel" (Ps. 22:3).
- Holy. Christ answers His own cry with God's holiness. God was righteous in forsaking the only righteous Man.
- Forsaken. He bore our sins by His own choice. God could have no fellowship with that load, and dealt with Him as sin deserves.
- Vindicated. The One abandoned is the One who vindicates God. He declared God's holiness before the whole universe when it cost Him everything.
- Founded. Propitiation makes praise possible. God's dwelling place is holy, so sin had to be judged before He could accept our worship.
- Inhabited. Redemption ends in praise. God now lives among the praises of a delivered people, with His holiness untouched. Israel's praise is still to come.
Our fathers confided in thee they confided, and thou didst deliver them.
On the cross the Sufferer looks back over Israel's history and finds an unbroken record: God rescued everyone who leaned on Him. He sets that record beside His own unanswered cry. Why is the one righteous Man the single exception?
The verse looks back to named men whose prayers God answered. Their record is what makes His own case so strange.
In verse 4 the Spirit of Christ still speaks. The Lord upon the cross contrasts Himself with pious men of olden days. "In You our fathers trusted (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses and others); they trusted, and You delivered them. To You they cried and were rescued; in You they trusted and were not put to shame." So was it not against God's past dealings for God to forsake the Lord Jesus in His sufferings, and to ignore His cries for deliverance? Abraham was not perfect in his devotion, yet God heard his prayers.
Set against that history, the cross stands alone. God delivered flawed men who trusted Him. He did not deliver the one Man whose trust was flawless.
Nothing else compares with the case of a righteous man forsaken. Set God's ways with Him beside God's ways with all others who have trusted in God, and it stands out even more. All history proved that the fathers who trusted in God were delivered. Righteous men may indeed have died as martyrs. But God had never before forsaken a righteous man.
Rescue from enemies is one thing. Being forsaken by God is another.
Yet a long line of martyrs witness to us that, when it comes to rescue from the hands of enemies alone, multitudes have cried and were not rescued. Their sufferings only proved that God had not forsaken them. On the contrary, His power held them up and made them able for whatever they went through — and it showed itself all the more in that very way. How many before and since have proved Paul's experience, "Persecuted, but not forsaken"! Their patience was precious to God, and He accepted it. Yet none of these patient sufferers touched even the edge of the darkness of the cross, when the cry of the holy One found no answer.
The psalm raises a question it also answers. He was not abandoned because God had changed, but because He was standing in the place of the guilty.
And more still, He owned that God's abandonment of Him was the one exception: "In You our fathers trusted; they trusted, and You delivered them. To You they cried, and were not put to shame. But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by mankind and despised by the people." Yes, so it must be, if He was propitiation for our sins. We are guilty. God could not save us in righteousness unless He made the Sinless One sin for us, so that we might become God's righteousness in Him. This, and this only, is the true answer to His "Why?" — this the sole and complete solution of the puzzle.
The word "our" places Him inside Israel rather than above it. He speaks as one of the people whose history He is quoting.
He appeals to God as Jehovah, not Father, because that relationship had not been brought out as it now is. The Jew did not know the Father as He is now revealed. Christ was taking the place of a godly Jew among them, so He takes up the relationship they knew… The grand principle is that He waited on Jehovah.
The unbroken record of answered cries did not end at the cross. It broke once, so that it could hold for everyone else.
No one can question it: this psalm was the language of the Lord Jesus in His great sorrow as the Sin-bearer. He spoke it in those dark hours when God forsook Him for our sakes. He recalled and retold how no one had ever cried to God in vain, and no one had ever trusted in Him and been put to shame; no, not one. He alone — amazing fact — suffered in this way. But we know the reason. It was so that we might never be put to shame, so that God might deliver us when we cried, so that we might trust and not be afraid.
- They trusted — the fathers were real men with flaws — Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses. Their imperfection is part of the argument, since God still heard them.
- They were delivered — every recorded case ran the same way. Even when God did not rescue martyrs from their enemies, He never abandoned them.
- He was forsaken — the only righteous Man is the single exception in the whole record. He says so Himself from the cross.
- Made sin — the reason is not a change in God. God made the Sinless One sin for us, so that we might become God's righteousness in Him.
- So we trust — He was left without an answer once, so that no one who cries after Him is ever left without one.
They cried unto thee, and were delivered; they confided in thee, and were not confounded.
Psalm 22 opens with a cry of abandonment. This verse then looks back over Israel's past and states a rule that never once failed: God answered everyone who called on Him. The startling thing is who says it — the One for whom, at that moment, the rule did not hold.
This is not a general reflection on history. Christ speaks it from the cross, measuring His own case against those who came before Him.
The Lord on the cross contrasts Himself with godly men of old. Our fathers — Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses and others — trusted in God, and He delivered them. Now the Lord Jesus was forsaken by God in His sufferings, and His cries for deliverance went unheard. Was this not contrary to God's past dealings? Abraham was not perfect in his devotion to God, yet God heard his prayers. Job was known for his patience in suffering. Yet he showed much impatience with his "friends," and he confessed to the LORD, "Behold, I am of small account" (older translations: "I am vile"). God heard Job too, and delivered him.
The fathers cried, and God delivered them. That was the settled pattern. The verse states it here to make one case stand out.
Nothing matches the case of a righteous man being forsaken. Contrast the ways of God with all others who have put their trust in Him, and that case stands out all the more. All history proved that God delivered the fathers who trusted in Him. Righteous men have indeed suffered martyrdom. But never before had a righteous man been forsaken by God.
Being rescued and not being forsaken are two different things.
A long line of martyrs tells us something. As far as simple rescue from the hands of enemies goes, many have cried and were not rescued. Their sufferings only proved that they were not forsaken. Instead a power held them up and made them able for whatever they went through — a power that showed itself all the more. How many before and since have proved Paul's experience, "persecuted, but not forsaken"! Their patience was precious and acceptable to God. Yet none of these sufferers touched even the edge of the darkness of the cross — when the cry of the holy One found no response.
The psalm itself rules out treating Christ's death as one more heroic death.
Suppose being forsaken by God only meant being handed over to death at the will of enemies. There was already a full record of such martyrs, those "of whom the world was not worthy." To reduce the cross of Christ to this takes out of it what makes true atonement. If this were "being made sin," then every martyr who ever died was made sin — or a sin offering — as well. The question here is not the dignity of the Sufferer, but the place where He suffered. The psalm itself declares that place to be utterly exceptional.
He states the rule, and then He does not claim it for Himself.
He accepts a place of nothingness among people. He wipes out self entirely. As "a worm and no man," He gave up every claim upon divine deliverance. This is the crowning evidence of that blessed One's perfect humility and self-denial.
The exception had a purpose, and it reaches everyone who reads this verse.
He recalled and repeated what was true. No one had ever cried to God in vain. No one had ever trusted in Him and been put to shame — not one. He alone — amazing fact — suffered like this. But we know the reason. It was so that we might never be put to shame, that we might be delivered when we cried, that we might trust and not be afraid.
The rule of the verse did hold for Him in the end — but on the far side of death.
His trust in God remained unshaken, even when He cried, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" At the very end He had met death in the fullness of its power. Even then it is to God He cries, "Save me from the mouth of the lion! You have rescued me from the horns of the wild oxen" (Psalm 22:21). His trust in God to the very end was not put to shame, for His cry was answered in God raising Him from the dead.
- Rule. All history said the same thing. The fathers trusted, they cried, and God delivered them. No righteous person had ever been forsaken.
- Exception. One righteous Man cried and got no answer. He states the rule Himself, to mark His own case as unique.
- Difference. Martyrs were persecuted but not forsaken, and God held them up in their suffering. What made the cross different was not the pain but the place He stood in.
- Surrender. He does not claim the deliverance the rule would give Him. As "a worm and no man" He gives up every claim on rescue.
- Result. He was put to shame so that we never would be. We are delivered when we cry, and we trust without fear. God raised Him, and His own trust was proved right.
But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and the despised of the people.
Psalm 22 gives us the words of Christ on the cross. Just before this verse He recalls that the fathers trusted God and God rescued them every time — so why did this one perfect Sufferer cry and get no answer?
Everything here turns on one contrast. The fathers cried and God delivered them; He cried and God did not. One writer says this forsaking is not the ordinary suffering of faithful people. Many believers have cried and no rescue came, yet God never left them.
This forsaking stands apart from anything a righteous man ever suffered. Think of the long line of martyrs. As far as rescue from the hands of enemies goes, great numbers have cried and no deliverance came. Their sufferings only proved that God had not forsaken them. He held them up and made them able for all they went through, and His power showed itself all the more in this way. How many before and since have proved Paul's experience, "Persecuted, but not forsaken"! Yet none of these patient sufferers — however precious and acceptable their patience was to God — touched even the border of the darkness of the cross, when the cry of the holy One found no answer.
The word is not a general term for something small. It names one creature, and the way that creature died gives the verse its weight.
It was nothing unusual for a man to suffer and die. Man has gone through almost every form of death you can imagine. But this unique Sufferer says, "I am a worm, and not a man." He went down to a depth far below that of any man at all. The word (tolaath) points above all to the small creature that gave the tabernacle its scarlet dye — and it gave it by dying. What a picture of the One before us! But this could only be true of Him as He suffered under the judgment of sin. In fact Isaiah 1:18 uses the same word for the colour of sin, and of serious sin at that. So the meaning is clearer still: "He was made sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him." (2 Corinthians 5:21.)
Older translations read "and no man" where the ESV has "and not a man." Either way, this is poetry. It says nothing against His true manhood.
We should not forget that words are sometimes used in a poetic or figurative way. In such cases no one would seriously argue for their literal meaning. The Spirit of Christ in the psalmist, speaking of the Holy Sufferer, said, "I am a worm, and no man" (Psalm 22:6). The expression is a figure of speech, and it refers to His abandonment on the cross. And no one sees any contradiction between the "no man" of the Psalm and the Lord's own words about Himself to the Jews, "a Man who has told you the truth" (John 8:40).
The scorn runs on into the next verse. One writer counts it out step by step.
In contrast to the fathers, here is One treated as less than a man. He is left to bear the full weight of man's contempt, and it comes in seven forms. (1) They count Him less than a man — "a worm". (2) They count Him of no value — "no man". (3) They hold Him in contempt — "a reproach of men". (4) The Jew despises Him — the "despised of the people". (5) He is the target of man's sneering ridicule — they laugh Him "to scorn". (6) He is the target of insult — they "shoot out the lip" at Him. (7) He is the target of mockery.
These are His own words about Himself, not just a report of how others saw Him.
The patience and lowliness of our Lord come into view in that dark hour. As the forsaken One, He says, "But I am a worm and no man." He accepts a place of nothingness among the sons of men. He puts self completely aside. Now, as always, "Christ did not please Himself." As a "worm and no man," He gave up every claim on deliverance from God. This is the crowning proof of that Blessed One's perfect humility and self-denial. The worm is a picture of utter weakness.
One writer traces this cry to His complete identification with His people, and then points to where He is now.
He identified Himself with His people so completely that we hear Him cry, "I am a worm" (Psalm 22:6). What grace in Him who was altogether perfect! And now, raised from among the dead, He is exalted to God's right hand.
- Contrast. The fathers trusted and God delivered them. He cried and got no answer. The cross stands outside every other record of God's dealings.
- Depth. "Worm" names the little creature that died to give the tabernacle its scarlet dye. Isaiah 1:18 uses the same word for the colour of sin. He went lower than any man.
- Figure. "Not a man" is poetry about His abandonment, not a denial that He was truly Man.
- Reach. The contempt comes in seven forms, from counting Him worthless to laughing at Him and insulting Him.
- Result. He took that place by choice and gave up every claim to rescue. Now He is raised and exalted at God's right hand.
All they that see me laugh me to scorn; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, [saying]
The Sufferer of this psalm looks around at the faces watching Him die. He sees open laughter, a curled lip, heads shaking. These words were written long before the cross, yet they came true there. Why did such contempt fall on Him? And what did He do with it?
The mockery here was no accident of history. Scripture had foretold it, and it built toward one moment.
Sadly, such ridicule from man fell within the sufferings appointed for the Messiah. But it was written of Him, "All who see me mock me" (Ps. 22:7), and this Scripture reached the high point of its fulfilment at the cross. He was the Servant whom man despised and the nation hated (Isa. 49:7).
The mockers never saw what they were doing. One writer traces their blindness to its root:
The Gospels note this wagging of the head by those passing by. They also note the very words of the psalm, used by the chief priests with the scribes and elders as they mocked Him. On the surface it would look as if the government of God gave them this reproach. In fact something else kept them from seeing the meaning of the Scriptures they were fulfilling so openly: their hardness, and their blindness to what they themselves deserved and to the holiness and mercy of God.
The verse names three acts: laughter, the lip, the head. One commentator places them at the top of a rising scale of scorn that starts in the verse before. (Older translations render the line "they shoot out the lip, they shake the head.")
Here is One who is treated as being less than a man. He is left to endure the fullness of man's contempt expressed in a sevenfold form. (1) He is esteemed as less than a man — "a worm". (2) He is of no value — "no man". (3) He is held in contempt — "a reproach of men". (4) He is despised by the Jew — the "despised of the people". (5) He is an object of man's sneering ridicule — they laugh Him "to scorn". (6) He is an object of insult — "they shoot out the lip" at Him. (7) He is the object of mockery — "they shake the head."
The next line of the psalm gives what the shaking heads said. At the cross, the men who repeated it were not only the crowd.
It was not only the rabble of the street, the lowest sort, the uneducated mob that mocked Him. The chief priests and the elders had gone out to help in reproaching Him... It is astonishing that these cultured religious men quoted Scripture in their terrible blindness as they gazed at Him... In earlier times the Jewish synagogue itself had read this Psalm as speaking of the Messiah... The psalm gives the very words they would speak in front of the forsaken Sufferer, the words they would use to insult Him.
Human cruelty caused real pain here. Yet that pain is not what sets Psalm 22 apart.
In Psalm 22 we have a totally different thing. It is Christ forsaken of God. That is not to say the people do not despise Him here. Strong bulls of Bashan surround Him. Dogs close in on Him. The assembly of the wicked shuts Him in. He felt all of it as no one but Christ could feel it. Yet what was all that next to the awful reality of Christ suffering from the hand of God — of Christ suffering for sin?
He heard every word the watchers said. None of it broke His confidence in God.
On the cross, the Lord is not unaware of the thoughts and words of the bystanders. They add to His sorrows and sufferings. He is reproached and despised by the people. They taunt Him because no deliverance comes to Him from God, though everyone knew He trusted God. The onlookers cannot see it, but in the middle of His crucifixion Christ keeps unbroken confidence in His God... Man mocked, Christ suffered, God was glorified.
Behind the human faces there was a purpose aimed at that trust:
He had neither reply nor reproach for the men who mocked Him... He was laughed to scorn because God did not help Him in His hour of great need. The enemy's cruel purpose was to make Him cast off His faith. Yet no complaint and no rebuke were heard in His cries as He poured out His sorrow before God.
- Written — the mockery was foretold, not improvised. It belonged to the sufferings appointed for the Messiah, and it peaked at the cross.
- Wagged — the verse names ridicule, insult and mockery. They are the top of a sevenfold ladder of contempt aimed at One treated as less than a man.
- Worded — the psalm gave the taunts in advance. The religious leaders said them out loud, blind to the Scripture they were fulfilling.
- Weighed — man's scorn was cruel, but it was not the depth of this psalm. Being forsaken by God was, and that is what makes Psalm 22 stand alone.
- Withstood — the enemy aimed to break His trust. He met the mockery with silence and kept unbroken confidence in God. Man mocked, Christ suffered, God was glorified.
Commit it to Jehovah -- let him rescue him; let him deliver him, because he delighteth in him!
At the cross, His enemies turn His own faith into a weapon against Him. They use His trust in God as proof that God has left Him — in words the psalm had recorded long before, and with a demand that went unanswered.
Those who mocked at the cross were quoting Scripture without knowing it.
It is astonishing that these cultured religious leaders quoted Scripture in their fearful blindness, even as they stared at Him... The wicked enemies of the great sufferer speak in that Psalm. The psalm gives the very words they would speak in front of the forsaken Sufferer, the words they would use to insult Him. The sneering chief priests, elders and scribes spoke them at the cross.
The irony was total. As one writer notes, what marks their blindness is that they quoted lines which, in the psalm, belong to the mouths of the ungodly.
That which marks the frightful blindness of these poor priests is, that they cite the words which, in the Psalm where His death is described just as it is described here, come out of the mouth of the godless and the wicked (Ps. 22:7-8).
Verse 8 does not stand alone. It completes a descent that begins earlier in the psalm, where contempt is heaped on Him step by step.
He is left to endure the full weight of man's contempt. It comes in a sevenfold form. (1) He is esteemed as less than a man — "a worm"; (2) as of no value — "no man"; (3) He is held in contempt — "a reproach of men"; (4) He is despised by the Jew — the "despised of the people"; (5) He is an object of man's sneering ridicule — they laugh Him "to scorn"; (6) He is an object of insult — "they shoot out the lip" at Him; (7) He is the object of mockery — "they shake the head."
The Hebrew behind the opening phrase is stronger than the English suggests. It is the picture of a weight being transferred.
There is no help for Him in His God. Others had cried in their need and been heard and answered (Ps. 22:4-5), but now righteousness is alone and unheard. His enemies read this, and in one solemn sense they read it rightly, as if God were against Him. They say, "He trusted in God" — literally, "rolled Himself on Jehovah," compare Ps. 22:8, margin with Matt. 27:43 — "let Him deliver Him now, if He will have Him." They daringly claim God as on their side against His blessed Son.
Every fact in the taunt was accurate. The conclusion they drew from those facts was false.
Yet the scoffers around the cross meant a lie even while they spoke the truth. Their taunt charged Him with being a real impostor. God's word and human experience alike said that God had never failed to deliver anyone who truly trusted Him.
They also chose their moment. The demand was not for deliverance someday, but for deliverance on the spot.
"Let Him deliver Him now." Now — with hands and feet pierced, with disciples fled, with the crowd gaping, the rulers sneering, the soldiers making fun of Him, the robbers hurling insults. Now was the moment when perfect trust, if it existed, should be proved. So they reasoned, while He endured in meekness and silence the reproaches heaped on Him.
He stayed on the cross for a reason His mockers never guessed.
In fact, He could not save Himself, because He could not think of Himself. The love which had saved others went further and gave Himself for us. Perfect love for His Father, obedience to His commandments, His perfect love to us, kept Him from saving Himself... If He was to save others, He could not save Himself.
They quoted God's delight in Him as proof of their own case. The reason for that delight was the very thing they were watching.
"Let Him deliver Him, seeing [or, if] He delighted in Him." This was how the murderers of the Just One justified themselves in triumph. But they did not know the way or the reason of Jehovah's delight in His Chosen One. Perhaps they had even heard Him when, in riddles of judgment, He spoke in their hearing the new words of gospel promise: "Therefore my Father loves me, because I lay down my life for the sheep."
The rescue they jeered at did arrive — just not on their timetable.
So men mistake God's patience for indifference, or for letting things pass. But God's time is not man's, and in His own time He will intervene, as He did after Christ had been crucified and buried. What a deliverance then when Christ was raised from among the dead!
- Foretold — The taunt was not made up on the spot. The psalm had already put those words in the mouths of His enemies, long before the chief priests, scribes and elders said them.
- Rolled — The word means He rolled Himself on the Lord. His enemies got His faith right, then used it as evidence against Him.
- Reversed — Every part of their sneer was true. Only their conclusion was false. God had never failed anyone who trusted Him, so they judged Him a fraud.
- Refused — He would not come down. If He was to save others, He could not save Himself. Love and obedience held Him there.
- Raised — God's delight in Him was real. The rescue came in God's time, not theirs — resurrection from among the dead.
But thou art he that took me out of the womb; thou didst make me trust, upon my mother's breasts.
On the cross, His enemies threw His own trust in God back at Him as a joke. He answered by looking back to the day He was born, and two questions follow: what does it mean that God "made" Him trust, and why speak of infancy at such a moment?
These words come straight after He tells God what the crowd said and did to Him.
Though the perfect Sufferer saw the power of man and Satan, He took the cup straight from the hand of God... He felt their "scorn," the shaking of the head, and the mockery of saying, "He trusted in Jehovah that He would deliver Him; let Him deliver Him, since He delighted in Him."... But He told God what men said and did, and added, "You are He who took Me out of the womb: You made Me hope when I was on My mother's breasts."
(Older translations read "made Me hope" where the ESV has "made me trust.")
One writer finds three things here: confidence in God, dependence on God, and subjection to God. Each one goes back to the very start of His life.
The One whom men despised, and God forsook, was the only fully righteous Man. From the moment He came into this world, perfect confidence in God marked Him, for He could say, "You made Me trust, upon My mother's breasts." He was also perfectly dependent, for He could add, "I was cast upon You from the womb." And He was perfect in His subjection, for He says, "You are My God." Yet He is the only One whose confidence in God, dependence on God and subjection to God were perfect from the beginning of His life on earth to the end. And He is the One found in deepest trouble with "none to help."
The Gospels tell us almost nothing about His infancy. This verse looks back to it, and finds trust already there.
The New Testament says very little about the childhood and hidden life of Jesus... Here, as He is about to lay down His holy life, His holy mind looks back over it. He goes back to its beginning, when He was a baby on His mother's breasts. He trusted in God. There was never another baby like that... In the small, helpless state of infancy, He was cast upon God. What pleasure that must have given God. Babies are not very old when they begin to show signs of self-will. A temper will display itself in the tiniest child. Never did it show itself in the Lord Jesus.
Many people have leaned on God at some point in life. The claim made here is of a different order.
He was as absolutely dependent upon God as He was obedient to Him... He never for one moment abandoned the attitude of entire dependence upon the living God... He breathed the very atmosphere of dependence from Bethlehem to Calvary. He was the only Man who ever lived a life of uninterrupted dependence upon God, from first to last. Others have depended partially, He did it perfectly. Others have occasionally or even mainly looked to God; He never looked anywhere else. He drew everything from God, not some things or most things.
That dependence showed itself as a refusal to act on His own will. One writer connects it to the child pictured in Revelation, born to rule yet marked by total reliance:
The Man Child seems to speak of His utter dependence upon God... As the Man Child He never moved from the place of dependence upon God; He did not exercise an independent will. His life was one unbroken obedience.
The verse names two acts of God: He took Him from the womb, and He made Him trust.
The care which watched over Him was unceasing from the womb to the grave. His Spirit had said so long before in the prophets: "I was cast upon You from the womb. You are My God from My mother's belly." "You made Me hope [or, You kept Me in safety] when I was on My mother's breasts." It was tireless throughout... It watched over Him that very night when the angel warned Joseph to flee into Egypt.
Recalling a lifetime of God's care does not end the sorrow. It becomes the ground of a fresh appeal.
Christ speaks of the people's mockery of His trust in God as His unfailing Helper, but He knows that from the womb He had been chosen and preserved by God. And He still calls upon God not to be far from Him in His trouble, but to help Him, for there is none else.
- Mocked — the crowd threw His trust back at Him as proof it had failed; He answered by tracing that trust to God.
- Took — God took Him from the womb. From the womb He was chosen and kept safe.
- Made — God made Him trust. That trust was there before He was old enough to choose it.
- Unbroken — others have trusted God at times; He looked nowhere else, from Bethlehem to Calvary. God's care over Him never stopped either.
- Alone — the one Man whose confidence, dependence and subjection were perfect is the one left in deepest trouble with none to help.
I was cast upon thee from the womb; thou art my God from my mother's belly.
Psalm 22 is the psalm of the cross, and here the Sufferer looks back past His childhood to the hour of His birth. Two questions follow: who can speak of God like this from infancy, and why does such a life end with no one to help?
The Sufferer looks back and names three things that were true of Him from birth. Older translations render the line as "I was cast upon you from the womb" — the wording these writers quote.
Righteous men may indeed have suffered martyrdom, but never before had a righteous man been forsaken by God… Yet the One whom men despised, and God forsook, was the only completely righteous Man. From the moment He came into this world He showed perfect confidence in God. He could say, "You made me trust, upon my mother's breasts." Further, He was perfectly dependent, for He could add, "I was cast upon you from the womb," and perfect in His subjection, for He says, "You are my God." And yet this is the one Man whose confidence in God, dependence upon God, and subjection to God was perfect from the beginning to the end of His life on earth. He is found in deepest trouble with "none to help."
Being cast on God was a settled attitude, not a single act at birth.
He was as absolutely dependent upon God as He was obedient to Him. He could say, "Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge" (Ps. 16). And again, "I was cast upon you from the womb" (Ps. 22). He never for one moment let go of complete dependence upon the living God… He breathed the very atmosphere of dependence from Bethlehem to Calvary. He was the only Man who ever lived a life of uninterrupted dependence upon God, from first to last. Others have depended partially, He did it perfectly. Others have looked to God now and then, or even most of the time; He never looked anywhere else. He found all His springs, not some of them or most of them, in God.
That same dependence shaped what He was set apart for.
He was subject to His God and went His pathway trusting in Him and in devotion to Him. This was His attitude right from the beginning: "I was cast upon you from the womb; you are my God from my mother's womb" (Ps. 22:10).
Here the Sufferer points back to how He came into the world. That birth carries an argument about how the story must end.
But in verses 9 and 10 the Lord Jesus appeals to the fact of His own birth by the intervention of God — we know, a virgin birth. When God had so intervened in man's affairs to prepare a body for His Son, could this whole matter have ended by death and oblivion? Certainly not! He says, "From my mother's womb You have been my God." Could this change now that He is crucified?
He is forsaken, yet He still says "my God." The claim of verse 10 is that this address was not new on the cross.
So while He suffered for sin, our Lord confessed that His God had forsaken Him. Yet He still called Him "My God." This relationship of Jesus went back to His earliest infancy. In this very Psalm, He declares, "You are my God from my mother's womb" (v. 10). From the manger in Bethlehem right onwards, He, the perfect and blessed Man, recognised God as the One whom He obeyed and on whom He depended. But here it was a time of darkness at noon, and the difference was beyond measure. His God, in whom He trusted, had forsaken Him! And why?
The Sufferer's claim on God rests on His whole life, not on this moment alone. And no hour of need was ever greater.
He had been the dependent One from the very start, and He never turned aside from that attitude. So more than anyone He had the title to divine support, now that all others had forsaken Him. This was the hour of trouble when most He needed the sunshine of the face of God.
- Cast — "On you was I cast from my birth": confidence, dependence and subjection, perfect from the start.
- Constant — He breathed the atmosphere of dependence from Bethlehem to Calvary. Others depended in part; He depended perfectly.
- Claim — God Himself acted to bring about this birth, so this life could not end in death and oblivion.
- Contradiction — the one Man with full title to God's support is the one Man left with none to help.
- Continuity — "my God" was His word in the manger and still His word in the darkness. The bond held even when the help did not come.
Be not far from me, for trouble is near; for there is none to help.
Psalm 22 gives the words of Christ in His suffering. At verse 11 He stops describing His attackers and turns to pray. He asks God to stay near, and He gives two reasons: the trouble is already on Him, and no one can help.
The verses just before this one look back to His infancy. One writer sets that lifelong trust beside the words "none to help."
The One whom men despised, and God forsook, was the only fully righteous Man. From the moment He came into this world He showed perfect confidence in God, for He could say, "You made me trust you at my mother's breasts." He was also perfectly dependent, for He could add, "On you was I cast from my birth." And He was perfect in His subjection, for He says, "From my mother's womb you have been my God." Yet this One — whose confidence in God, dependence on God, and subjection to God were perfect from the start of His life on earth to its end — is in deepest trouble with "none to help."
The troubles named in the psalm so far came from men. One writer shows where its real subject begins.
These troubles were deep and real, but they were outward, and they came from man. From these He turns to God. Here we find the true subject of the psalm and His unfathomable suffering. He looks to God in the trials, and there was no comfort in the cup He had to drink. He prays, "Be not far from me, for trouble is near." Then, as sorrows press Him harder, He says again, "O LORD, do not be far off!" Even so, these were still only outward pressure from the hand of man. He was not stopped by them. He was going on through them to the cup which His Father was going to put into His hand.
He asks God not to be far away. One writer points to what actually happened.
In Psalm 22 He speaks of all the external troubles, but then He says, "Be not far from me" — the very thing He was!
No man comforted Him, and God hid His face. One writer says what held Him there.
There was no outlet to His grief, no comfort from man. Here we see the meaning of "Be not far from me, O my God!" Those He came to in love cast Him out with scorn. Those He came to save pressed in and closed Him in. So His soul turned to God. But God had hidden His face from Him. He now found the darkness and wrath to the uttermost. There was no response on any side: deep hatred of man around Him, and darkness from above. Everything fell away but the power of love. Love sustained Him. Love was greater than all, and it was set on us.
"None to help" goes deeper than the loss of friends. No one else could take on the work in front of Him.
Well might He say: "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? But for this purpose I have come to this hour" (John 12:27). So also in Psalm 22:11. He, the One who knew no sin, is to be made sin for us. He enters into all that judgment — God's own full judgment against sin and against our sins. He alone was able to bear it. He alone could measure what God is in His nature against all sin and evil. And He alone could bear the condemnation of that sin and evil in a nature as holy, in itself and forever, as the nature of the God who was judging.
Earlier in the psalm the fathers cried to God and were rescued. One writer marks what makes this cry different.
Here we find the one exception in all God's ways with the righteous. One with no callousness describes the whole long agony, keenly alive and sensitive to it all. Yet through it all He turns to the God on whom He had been cast from birth, and pleads against the one sorrow far beyond all others: "Be not far from me!"
These two kinds of suffering have two different outcomes.
Note also the deep difference between the sufferings of Christ from man and from God. The first were for righteousness, the second for sin. The result of the first (Psalm 21) is that He will make His enemies like a fiery oven in the day of His wrath. In the second He was bearing wrath, and the result is pure blessing, and nothing else, as its fruit. (See Psalm 22:11-23.)
- Trust — He had leaned on God from birth. His confidence, dependence and subjection were perfect. Still He had none to help.
- Turn — Verse 11 moves the psalm off human enemies and onto God, which is where its true subject lies.
- Unanswered — He asks God not to be far away, and far away is exactly what God was. Love, not relief, carried Him through.
- Alone — No one could help Him, because He was being made sin. Only He could bear God's judgment against it.
- Fruit — Suffering from man brings judgment on man. This suffering from God brings nothing but blessing.
Many bulls have encompassed me; Bashan's strong ones have beset me round.
The verse pictures a ring of animals closing in on the Sufferer. He names His enemies as bulls, and commentators agree that this belongs to what Christ suffered at the hands of men — not yet to the darkness of being forsaken by God.
This verse opens a section on what men did to Christ. One writer counts the verses, then warns that even this is not the psalm's deepest agony.
We now have, in seven verses, the full extent of His suffering at the hands of man. We may go over it and list the items one by one. But who can measure what it was for Him? No one ever matched Him in capacity for sorrow, or in understanding all that can be in the human heart. Yet even this was not part of the special agony that marks this psalm of atonement.
The psalm's animal images work as a set. Each names a different enemy, and the bull stands for a will that does as it pleases.
In Psalms 20, 21, we see human enemies, and judgment, but in Psalm 22 divine wrath and perfect grace. In verse 12, bulls, that is, violent men, who do their own will; in verse 16, dogs, that is shameless ones. In verse 21, the lion's mouth, that is, Satan's power over death.
The Hebrew word behind "strong bulls" points the same way:
In Psalm 22:12 the word behind "strong [bulls]" is abbir, meaning "mighty one." It is translated "bulls" in Psalm 50:13; Psalm 68:30; Isaiah 34:7; Jeremiah 50:11.
Bashan had rich grazing land. Cattle fattened there picture men swollen with self-importance.
First we must realize the strength of these enemies. They are bulls, with lowered horns and a reckless charge — strong beasts fattened on the rich pastures of Bashan, men whom "fullness of bread" had filled with pride and insolence. Caiaphas the Sadducee was one of them. He prophesied without knowing it, moved only by the instinct of self-preservation, with eyes as blind to eternity as they were sharp about present things. He was a picture of many more like him.
The same figure appears elsewhere in Scripture for the same kind of men, and God has an answer for them:
BULLS OF BASHAN are figurative of strong ruthless enemies, Amos 4:1, whom God in the coming judgement on Gog will crush, and will call for the fowls and the beasts to come and feed upon their flesh and their blood, Ezek. 39:18.
Commentators name these enemies as the nation's religious leaders. They also trace the shift to a lion in the next verse back to Satan.
Then in verses 12 and 13 we have the persecution of the Jews. The leaders of that people attacked Him with the strength and ferocity of bulls. The militant Pharisees were like strong bulls of Bashan, and because they were Satan's special agents in this, they shared his character. He bears the character of "a roaring lion."
He was surrounded on every side, and He did not answer that pressure with force of His own.
Violence, with no restraint and full of rage, surrounded Him — bulls of Bashan, savage and roaring lions. No proud human strength met this. He had to meet it and feel it in the meekness of His nature, and to know the weakness of human nature, though never its sin, except in bearing it… But here He does not stop, and He could not stop, at second causes… The point here is His state, the dust of death. Yet He looks at the real source of it all: the thoughts and purposes of Jehovah. This is perfection in this respect. He feels fully what these enemies are and sees their character clearly, and they are only the instruments of our suffering; yet through it all He looks to the ways and wisdom and will of God.
after
The cruelty of men was real. One writer sets it beside something heavier still.
Here is Christ forsaken by God. He is despised by the people too: strong bulls of Bashan surrounded Him, dogs closed in on Him, the assembly of the wicked shut Him in. He felt all this as no one but Christ could feel it. Yet what was it beside the awful reality of Christ suffering from the hand of God — of Christ suffering for sin? It is a sad but useful picture, this side of man. It is all the same nature; we were like that. But turn it round: what is the other side? Christ has shown what God is, and He is love, even when it is a question of our sins.
- Man's side — Seven verses now describe all that Christ suffered from men. This is not yet the psalm's deepest agony.
- Bulls — Violent men doing their own will. The Hebrew word for "strong" means "mighty one."
- Bashan — Rich pasture land, picturing well-fed men, proud and insolent, like Caiaphas.
- Behind them — The nation's leaders acted as Satan's agents, so the picture shifts from bull to roaring lion.
- His answer — He never stopped at the men, who were only instruments. He looked through them to the will of God, and there showed what God is: love, even about our sins.
They gape upon me with their mouth, [as] a ravening and a roaring lion.
On the cross the Sufferer describes His enemies as animals. He sees mouths stretched wide, and behind them He hears the roar of a lion. Psalm 22 places this among the sufferings Christ received from men. So who are these enemies, and who roars through them?
Each animal in this Psalm names a different kind of enemy.
In Psalms 20 and 21 we see human enemies and judgment, but in Psalm 22 divine wrath and perfect grace. In verse 12, bulls — that is, violent men who do their own will; in verse 16, dogs — that is, shameless ones. In verse 21, the lion's mouth — that is, Satan's power over death.
The gaping mouths belonged to real people. They roar like a lion because they served one.
Then in verses 12 and 13 we have the persecution of the Jews. The leaders of that people attacked Him with the strength and ferocity of bulls. The militant Pharisees were like strong bulls of Bashan. They were Satan's special agents in this matter, so they took on his character. Satan bears the character of "a roaring lion."
A lion's open mouth threatens before it bites. That noise had a purpose against Christ, and it has the same purpose against His people.
Satan not only presents himself as a serpent, but also as a roaring lion. It was in this character that the Lord Jesus met him in Gethsemane and at the cross. Nothing is more terrifying than the roar of the lion. Satan wanted to frighten the holy soul of Christ, to make Him abandon the divine path that led down to the sacrifice… At the cross he opened his mouth against Christ "like a ravening and roaring lion" (Ps. 22:13). There the Lord, in "the weakness of God," overcame "the strong man," and through death He nullified his power (Heb. 2:14). Satan comes to the children of God in the same form. "Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8). If he cannot deceive us, he tries to frighten us.
What men did to Him and what God did to Him are not the same. This verse stands on the first side.
Notice the essential difference between the sufferings Christ received from man and from God. The first were for righteousness. The second were for sin. The consequence of the first (Psalm 21) is that He will make His enemies as a fiery oven in the day of His wrath. In the second He was bearing wrath. Its fruit is pure blessing, and nothing else. (See Psalm 22:11-23.)
The same rage broke out again after the cross. Stephen, one of the first Christian preachers, told Israel's leaders the truth. God has an answer for such teeth.
"You have broken the teeth of the ungodly." Of course this is a figure for breaking their power to devour those they considered enemies. Psalm 22:13 shows it… and so does Acts 7:54. There the religious leaders of Israel had arrested Stephen. He had told them the truth about their whole history of refusing the testimony of God, which ended in their rejecting and crucifying the Lord of Glory. They bitterly resented that he had exposed them as actual enemies of God, and "gnashed at him with their teeth."
The Psalm does not leave Him inside the lion's jaws. Later the cry changes, and the answer comes. The commentator below quotes verse 21 from an older translation.
He says, "Save me from the lion's mouth: for You have heard me from the horns of the wild oxen" (Ps. 22:21). In that awful hour the enemy spends his full fury against Him, and He cries, "Save me from the lion's mouth." He had borne the full penalty of our guilt. He had entered into the judgment of God and exhausted it. The concentrated power of the forces of darkness, and all the evil of man, came against Jesus, and He sustained it all. When all has been borne He can say with triumph, "You have heard Me."
- Bulls — the open mouths belong to violent men who do their own will. These leaders attacked Him with a bull's strength and ferocity.
- Lion — behind those men stands Satan, whose character they took on. He opens his mouth against Christ, and his weapon is terror.
- Roar — the noise was meant to frighten Him off the road to the sacrifice. Satan still uses it on believers he cannot deceive.
- Divide — here Christ suffers from man, for righteousness. The wrath He bore for sin is separate, and its fruit is pure blessing.
- Silenced — the cry "Save me from the lion's mouth" gets its answer: "You have heard Me." Through death He nullified the strong man's power; teeth that gnash are teeth God breaks.
I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint my heart is become like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels.
In Psalm 22 we hear the crucifixion from the inside, in the words of the Sufferer Himself. Verse 14 turns from the enemies around Him to His own condition: strength gone, bones out of joint, a heart melting away. It also raises a question. Who brought Him to that state?
Elsewhere in Scripture, a repentant people poured water out on the ground as a sign. One writer sets that act beside this verse:
There is a beautiful line of truth through 1 Samuel 1-7… In the course of all this, the people are brought to repentance and confession. The sign of this is the symbolic act of spilling the water on the ground. It shows the good-for-nothingness of flesh, that all it is fit for is to return to the dust it came from. Jesus speaks of being "poured out like water," and laid "in the dust of death." (Psalm 22)
The verse describes a man with nothing left to resist with. One writer traces that helplessness past the men who caused it:
It was no proud strength of man that met this. He had to meet it and feel it in the meekness of His nature. He had to know the weakness of human nature, though never its sin, except in bearing it. He was poured out like water. All His bones are out of joint; His heart melted like wax within Him. His strength is dried up like a piece of broken pottery; His tongue clings to His jaws. But here there is no stopping, nor could He stop, at second causes. He is down in the dust of death; but Jehovah has brought Him there.
Others died this same death and felt the same things in the body. One writer names what set Him apart:
Verses 14 and 15 portray His bodily sufferings. In these, of course, He was not unique. The two thieves crucified on either side must have shared them, and so have all others who have ever died this terrible death. What was unique was His power of feeling. In Him sin had blunted no sensitivity; everything reached the highest pitch of perfection.
Wax does not melt on its own. Something must be burning. One writer names the fire:
And He who meets all this — in what condition is He to endure it? He has come from the agony of the garden; He is facing the worse agony of the cross. Their "hour" is that of the "power of darkness," and of the forsaking of God. What strength can there be to resist, when the Father's hand itself is giving Him the cup? His "heart is melted like wax" in the sacrificial fire of wrath against sin.
We can also read the verse from God's side of the altar. One writer comments on the fat of the sacrifices, the part that speaks of what is most precious to God, and hears this psalm in it:
So we may say the fat speaks of our blessed Lord Himself, in His unreserved and perfectly acceptable devotion to God's holy will. To accomplish that will, He gave up all the strength of His holy and perfect life in the work of the cross. Are not those words of Psalm 22 significant of this? "I am poured out like water, and all My bones are out of joint; My heart is like wax; it is melted within My breast."
How does "all my bones are out of joint" fit with the promise that no bone of His would be broken? One reference work weighs the two:
Some Greek manuscripts leave out the word "broken" in 1 Corinthians 11:24, and so do some editors. They perhaps thought it clashed with Psalm 34:20 and John 19:36, "Not one of his bones will be broken." But in Psalm 22:14 the Lord said, "All my bones are out of joint." That would correspond to a broken body.
This verse is not the bottom of the psalm. One writer sets the body's collapse beside a deeper grief:
His soul was already poured out like water, His heart melted like wax within Him. Then came the forsaking of God. Is it not clear that this, in the condition of His soul, crowned the sorrow and completed His holy dread?
- Poured out. Water poured out on the ground was a sign of the worthlessness of flesh, fit only to return to dust. He uses that figure of Himself.
- Poured out by God. He does not stop at the men who nailed Him there; He says it was Jehovah who brought Him to the dust of death.
- Poured out feeling everything. Others endured the same execution; none had His unblunted capacity to feel it.
- Poured out in fire. The melting heart is wax in the sacrificial fire of wrath against sin — the Father handed Him that cup.
- Poured out as offering. Seen from the altar's side, the same collapse is devotion: He gave up all the strength of His life to God's will.
My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth to my palate; and thou hast laid me in the dust of death.
This verse is the last stage of a descent: strength gone, mouth too dry to speak, a body laid in dust. The words are David's, but commentators hear the voice of Christ on the cross — and ask whose hand put Him there.
Crucifixion did not exist when David wrote, and the psalm's details never fit his own life.
More than a thousand years before, the Holy Spirit wrote a psalm with His mind full of what was to happen upon the cross. It could not apply to David, who wrote it. It could only apply to one Person, and to that Person in one set of circumstances. It could only apply to the Lord Jesus and His sacrificial death upon the cross. Hear His lament: "My strength is dried up like a potsherd."
A potsherd is not a whole vessel. It is a piece of one that broke.
A fragment of pottery. Scripture compares man to it when he strives with his Maker (Isaiah 45:9). David uses the word in the Psalm that prophesies the Lord's sacrificial sufferings: "My strength is dried up like a potsherd" (Psalm 22:15).
That weakness runs through His whole death.
Death is not evidence of power; it is the completion of weakness. Christ was crucified through weakness, but lives by the power of God. He came to bear the judgment which lay upon man; He tasted death in all its bitterness; He drank the cup of wrath for us and gave up His spirit. In the sorrow of His heart He said that God had weakened His strength in the way (Psalm 102). He said that His strength was dried up like a potsherd, and that He was brought into the dust of death. He felt what the weakness of death was when, forsaken of God, He gave Himself for our sins.
The verse does not stop at the condition. It names the cause.
Here there is no stopping, nor could He stop, at second causes. He is down in the dust of death; but Jehovah has brought Him there. The point here is His state, the dust of death; only He looks at the real source of it all, at the thoughts and counsels of Jehovah. This is perfection in this respect. He felt the full character of the enemies who are the instruments of our suffering, and judged it rightly. Yet He looked through it all to the ways and wisdom and will of God.
Yet He was not a victim.
But then He adds what God has done: "You have brought Me to the dust of death." For men could not take His life from Him (John 10:17-18), though they were guilty of crucifying Him. Laying down His life was a divine work. He laid it down of Himself, and it was just as true that God brought Him to the dust of death.
The source of the blow changes everything that follows from it.
Man is in the scene, both Jew and Gentile, but only as the blind instrument for carrying out the divine will. It is from God's hand that the Lord takes the cup. "You have brought Me," He says, "into the dust of death." Here He suffers from the hand of God, and is forsaken. That is exactly why we have atonement in this psalm. In Psalm 69, for example, He suffers from man's hand, and His death is more that of a martyr. In Psalm 69, where the Lord suffers from man in his wickedness, the result is pure and unmixed judgment. In Psalm 22, where atonement is found, grace and blessing flow out in ever-widening circles, until they reach the ends of the earth.
That dry tongue returns in one short word from the cross.
No doubt these words express the distressing physical effect of all that mind and heart and body had endured until then. But His last request was bound up not only with His need. It also came from His undying zeal for the word, if only one thing was still lacking to make it honourable. Every word that proceeds from God's mouth must be fulfilled. Had He not said of Messiah, "My tongue sticks to my jaws," and "In My thirst they gave Me vinegar to drink"?
Dust, in the end, became the surface He wrote on.
What He wrote there we are not told, but we do know that He was going "into the dust of death" (Psalm 22:15), where He wrote a full declaration of the love of God.
- Dust named. The psalm describes a death David never died. The dryness and the dust belong to Christ on the cross alone.
- Dust as weakness. A potsherd is a piece of something once whole. Death here is not power but weakness completed, and He entered it by choice.
- Dust from God's hand. He looks past the soldiers and the crowd to the real source: God brought Him there, and He laid His life down Himself.
- Dust as atonement. The blow falls from God, not man. So this psalm yields atonement, and blessing that widens out to the ends of the earth.
- Dust that speaks. The tongue too dry to speak still opened to say "I thirst," so that Scripture would be fulfilled.
For dogs have encompassed me; an assembly of evil-doers have surrounded me they pierced my hands and my feet.
Psalm 22 describes the cross long before crucifixion was known. Verse 16 is the moment the circle closes around the Sufferer, and it raises two questions: who are these "dogs," and how could David describe a death that no one around him had ever seen?
The verse names two groups. Commentators read them as Gentile and Jew, joined against Christ. One writer points to enemies who became allies at the cross:
Pilate and Herod had been enemies. Yet they could bury their hatred and agree together in rejecting the Son of God. The Jews had nothing but contempt for the Gentiles, whom they called "the uncircumcised." Yet they could join them in heaping insult and shame on Christ. "For dogs (Gentiles) encompass me; a company of evildoers (Jews) encircles me" (Ps. 22:16). Satan is well able to bring about unity for the accomplishment of his dreadful purposes.
The word is not a throwaway insult. In this psalm each animal name stands for something:
In verse 12, bulls, that is, violent men who do their own will; in verse 16, dogs, that is, shameless ones. In verse 21, the lion's mouth, that is, Satan's power over death.
The picture carries the whole nature of a street dog over to the crowd at the cross:
How completely the Cross showed what man is! "Dogs" — heartless, shameless, unclean, feeding on refuse, hunting in packs like "a company of evildoers" here. They gathered around a sight of distress beyond compare. They had no pity for it, and there was no escape from it.
Here the psalm names the exact way Christ would die. David had never seen such a death:
The Psalm foretold the way He would die: "They have pierced my hands and feet" (verse 16). At that time crucifixion was unknown. How David himself must have wondered when he wrote those words. They did not refer to his hands. His hands were not pierced.
The rest of the psalm fills in more marks of that same death:
The bones out of joint — hands, arms, shoulders and pelvis (verse 14). The heavy sweating caused by intense suffering (verse 14). The action of the heart affected (verse 14). Strength gone and extreme thirst (verse 15). The hands and feet pierced (verse 16)… Remember that crucifixion was a Roman form of execution, not a Jewish one. The proof of inspiration is irresistible.
Scholars have long argued over one Hebrew word here. A commentator weighs the evidence and gives his verdict:
It is a question of reading. Cahari means "as a lion." Caharu, most likely, means "they pierced," and the difference in Hebrew is very slight. All the ancient translations give "they pierced." The Masora (the ancient Jewish record of the text) confirms it. One of the most critical Jewish scholars approves it, appealing to his own good Jewish manuscripts… What is most against "pierced," though it proves nothing, is that the New Testament never refers to it, though it refers to other parts of the Psalms. However, my own conviction is that "they pierced" is right.
The same word appears in a law about a slave who would not go free. The link runs through an older wording of Psalm 40:6:
A slave who was due to go free could refuse it because he loved his master; then his master bored his ear through with an awl. This is far from obedience forced by fear of punishment. The slave gladly suffers pain and sheds his blood rather than stop serving. There is no doubt that this pictures the divine Servant binding Himself to endless service of His own will, because of His love for God and for the Bride. In Psalm 40:6 He says, "You have opened my ears" — the word translated "opened," kahhrah, is translated in Psalm 22:16 "pierced" (my hands and feet).
The verse shows the human side of the cross. The psalm does not stop there:
It was they indeed who surrounded Him. They pierced His hands and His feet. But the psalm adds, "YOU have brought me into the dust of death." No human hand, no human will, no power of Satan could have bowed Him like that. Many times men filled their hands with stones to stone Him. Once the men of His own city led Him out as if to certain death. Yet He passed by, unharmed by them all. Until His appointed hour came He kept His place in safety for the Father.
- Surrounded. Two groups close the circle: "dogs" and "a company of evildoers" — Gentile and Jew joined in one crime against Christ.
- Shameless. Each animal name is chosen with care. Bulls are violent men doing their own will. Dogs are the shameless. The lion's mouth is Satan's power over death.
- Pierced. David describes nailed hands and feet before anyone died that way. Crucifixion was Roman, not Jewish. His own hands were never pierced.
- Disputed. One reading gives "like a lion," but the ancient translations and Jewish witnesses back "they pierced." The same word marks the slave who will not leave his master.
- Surrendered. Men did the piercing, yet the psalm turns to God: no hand could have brought Him down until His hour came.
I may count all my bones. They look, they stare upon me;
On the cross the Sufferer looks down at a body so wasted that He can count His own bones, while the crowd gazes at Him as if at a show. Two questions press: how did anyone write this scene down long before Israel had seen a crucifixion, and what did the staring cost Him?
The details listed here match one particular form of execution.
"Psalm 22 is a vivid picture of death by crucifixion. The bones of the hands, arms, shoulders and pelvis out of joint; the heavy sweating that comes with intense suffering; the heart affected; strength gone and extreme thirst; the hands and feet pierced; the body left partly naked, with the shame that brings — all of these belong to that way of dying… Crucifixion was a Roman form of execution, not a Jewish one. Remember that, and the proof of inspiration is overwhelming."
Readers comparing translations will find that some number the line about the pierced hands and feet as verse 17, and there has long been discussion over how the Hebrew there should be read.
I now turn to Psalm 22:17. The most ancient Hebrew reading is said to give "like a lion."… The reason for reading it as it stands in the English translation is that the ancient Jews insist it is so in the old Hebrew… The Septuagint (about a century and a half before our Lord) translates it, "they pierced my hands and my feet"; so does the Vulgate.
The picture is of a body so drained and drawn that its frame shows through.
He was also so emaciated as to speak of His bones being visible (v. 17). And here, centuries before the Lord Jesus was crucified, He speaks of His enemies dividing His garments among themselves.
The second half of the verse turns from His body to their faces. What was done to Him left them entirely unmoved.
Exposed — every bone to be counted — to such eyes as these, that gaze and stare and do not flinch: not ashamed in the presence of their Judge and Maker. Parting among them the garments they have stripped from Him, and casting the lot… to decide the ownership of that seamless priestly robe which marks Him as what He is, "the Mediator between God and men," upon whom all the blessing of man depends.
Being looked at like that was not a small thing next to the physical pain. It registered on Him, and it draws His people into fellowship with Him.
Christ is an example to us in His suffering from men. I am partaker of His sufferings… He suffered also perfectly with the feeling of a man. "Reproach has broken my heart." "They can count all my bones." "They look and stare at me." Hanged up as a criminal before the world, He felt it all; and the more refined the feeling, the more sharply His disciple's unfaithfulness was felt by Him. It was love to Peter that brought him back.
He could count His bones — yet not one of them broke. Commentators link this to what the soldiers did at the cross.
The soldiers broke the legs of the robbers, but found that the Lord was dead already. They disobeyed orders, and one of them pierced the side of the Lord Jesus with a spear instead. This had to happen, for Scripture had foretold this very thing, and also that no bone of His should be broken (Zech. 12:10; Ex. 12:46). The bones, the framework of the body, speak of the basic truth about His person, which stayed unchanged and unbroken all through His dreadful sufferings.
Men are the ones staring here. But the psalm's deeper subject is what He took from God's hand. That is why it ends in blessing.
Man is in the scene, both Jew and Gentile, but only as the blind tool that carries out God's will. It is from God's hand that the Lord takes the cup… And just because He suffers here from the hand of God, and is forsaken, we have atonement in this psalm… where atonement is found, grace and blessing flow out in ever-widening circles, until they reach the ends of the earth.
- Foretold — The wasted body, the pierced hands and feet, the raging thirst: a Roman execution described centuries before Israel ever saw one.
- Counted — He is worn to the frame, every bone visible, stripped bare in front of a crowd whose eyes gaze and do not flinch.
- Felt — He suffered with the full feeling of a man; hung up as a criminal before the world, He felt all of it.
- Kept — Not one of those bones broke. His person came through the suffering unchanged.
- Reached — His deepest suffering came from God's hand. So the psalm ends in blessing that spreads to the ends of the earth.
They part my garments among them, and cast lots upon my vesture.
Soldiers at the cross shared out the clothes of the One they had just crucified. Scripture had recorded that small act a thousand years earlier, which raises a question: why would God write down something so minor, and what does it say about the One being stripped?
The soldiers were not thinking about Scripture at all. God had marked their act in His word long before they did it:
Little did the soldiers who had charge of the execution think beyond their poor extra pay. But God's eye was now, as ever, on His Son, and He had taken care in His word to mark it. One of the most clearly Messianic psalms (Ps. 22:18) holds the exact prediction, written a thousand years beforehand. It says the soldiers would take the Saviour's garments, and it points unmistakably to Him... The very smallness of what is mentioned bears witness to the accurate reality of the prophecy. He is the proven Messiah as well as the rejected one.
That day the same soldiers acted out one written prediction after another:
This is particularly striking if we take the case of the Roman soldiers — men who were unaware that the Scriptures even existed... His appearance was to be "so marred, beyond human semblance," according to Isaiah 52:14, and the crown of thorns and the beatings fulfilled this. The Judge of Israel was to be struck "with a rod on the cheek," according to Micah 5:1; this the soldiers did... Verse 24 records their fulfilment of Psalm 22:18... We think we are right in saying that at least 24 prophecies were fulfilled in the 24-hour day when Jesus died.
Verses 16-20 turn to the soldiers around the cross. Watch how they behaved while He was dying:
In verses 16-20 the Gentile opposition to Christ passes before us. Like dogs, acting without heart or conscience, they hand over to death One whom they admit is innocent. They pierce His hands and His feet. Then, with a brutal callousness that knows neither shame nor feeling, they stare at Him and gamble for His clothes.
In Israel the lot was never a mere game of chance. That is what makes this gambling so dark:
They cast the lot — in Israel sacred to the Lord (Prov. 16:33) — to decide who owns that seamless priestly robe, which marks Him out as what He is, "the Mediator between God and men," the One on whom all man's blessing depends... Was it not, in fact, a sign of the most solemn kind — men stripping Christ of His clothing, holding Him up like that to the scorn of men? And what could suit the deed better? They took, as it were, the lot which belonged to God — the sign of His sovereignty even in what man calls "accident" — and used it to dishonour and degrade the One for whom God had decreed the highest honour.
The psalm mentions two things: garments divided, and one item decided by lot. The soldiers' plunder shows what the Lord owned, and one writer draws a careful suggestion from the garment itself:
All four Gospels tell us about the soldiers' gamble for the Lord's garments. A man's coat was his own. Under the law of Moses, even a coat pledged during the day had to come back to him at night. These clothes the soldiers gambled for were the Lord's only possessions, and even these they took from Him. How poor He became for our sakes! ... We are wary of fanciful interpretations of Scripture. But a man's garment often shows his character in Scripture. If it does so here, we suggest this garment may picture the perfect evenness and consistency of the Lord's life and character — He was everything He ever said.
There is another side to this. Men were taking; He was giving:
Then they crucify Him and divide His garments among them, casting lots. All the while the light of prophecy shines steadily on all this, like the great Eye of God — unnoticed, yet noticing in silence, until the time comes to act... But is He not in fact providing, at His own cost, the clothing to cover men's nakedness — even for His enemies? And by divine appointment too, which the lot in Israel spoke of. Certainly this alone is how any of us can say, "He has covered me with the robe of righteousness" (Isa. 61:10).
- Written — Scripture named the fate of His clothing a thousand years early. The smaller the detail, the stronger the proof.
- Witnessed — soldiers who had never read the Scriptures acted them out. That single day saw at least twenty-four prophecies come true.
- Watched — men who admitted He was innocent stared and gambled while He suffered. God's eye was on every moment.
- Wagered — in Israel the lot marked God's own decision. Men used it to dishonour the One God had decreed to honour most.
- Woven — the coat they would not tear pictures a life of unbroken consistency. They stripped it from Him, and He covers the naked with the robe of righteousness.
But thou, Jehovah, be not far [from me]; O my strength, haste thee to help me.
Here the Sufferer of Psalm 22 stops describing His tormentors. He turns His face back to God and asks Him not to stay far away, but to come quickly. Two questions follow. Why does One whose strength is dried up call God His strength? And did this prayer ever get an answer?
He has already asked this twice. The third time shows where the real suffering lay.
Twice already in the psalm the holy Sufferer has asked God not to be far off from Him in His sufferings (v. 1 and v. 11). Now, for the third time, He turns from His persecutors and His sufferings and looks beyond men to God... So it becomes plain why the psalm sets the opposition of men before us. It is not mainly to show the terrible evil of men, which in other psalms calls for judgment. It is to show that even in the suffering men caused, the Lord was without help from God.
The psalm has already traced a long agony. Here He names one sorrow worse than all of it.
Then One who felt no numbness describes the whole long agony. He was awake and sensitive to every part of it. Yet from it all He turns to the One on whom He had been cast from the womb, and pleads against the one sorrow far beyond all others: "Be not far from Me!" — "But You, do not be far from Me, O Lord! Oh, my Strength! hurry to help Me!"
The ESV reads "O you my help" here. Older translations read "O my strength." That title is startling: His own strength was already gone.
He was crucified in weakness — for us. Our iniquities dissolved the strength of Jesus. Those iniquities drew to themselves the stroke of righteous judgment, and the weight of that blow fell on Him who bore them in His own pure body on the tree. He has spoken from "the dust of death," with the faint cry of one whose strength was dried up like a piece of broken pottery.
That weakness was chosen, not forced. He refused to use power to save Himself from that place. So the appeal looks past men to the one question that matters.
After all that man has done or can do — and this is no small thing — the question of questions is still: Where is God? To this, therefore, He returns, pleading that God, His strength, shall appear on His behalf. Power He refused for Himself to save Him from this place; "by might can none prevail" when in it. But once the victory is won, power at last comes fully to the Victor's side, as it must.
The psalm opened with a cry that got no reply. This verse begins with one small word that turns everything. Writers tie that turn to the work He completed.
In verse 19, though, the pivotal word "But" comes from His lips: "But You, O Lord, do not be far from Me; O my strength, hasten to help Me!" God could not answer Him in verses 1-6. He was bearing sin then, and He could not be spared that suffering. Verses 19-21 are quite different. Once His work of atonement was complete, God delivered Him "out of death," and so from the sword of the enemy... Weeping has endured through the night, but joy comes in the morning.
Two verses later the same speaker says God has heard Him. The change from asking to receiving has a reason.
The One Who earlier said, "O My God, I cry... but You do not hear" (v. 2) now tells Him, "You have heard Me." With strong crying and tears, with prayers and pleading, He had called on God while He suffered on the cross as the sin-bearer. Then the moment came when He knew His work of propitiation for sins was finished. He knew too that God, who was able to save Him out of death, had heard Him because of His piety (Heb. 5:7).
- Not far — He makes the same appeal three times in one psalm. Men and their attacks are real, but the sorrow He returns to is God's distance.
- Not strong — His own strength was dried up. Our sins dissolved it, and He went to the cross in weakness for us.
- Not forced — He would not call on power to lift Himself out of that place. Only after the victory does power come fully to His side.
- Not silent — the "But" marks the turn. While He bore sin no answer could come; once atonement was complete, God delivered Him out of death.
- Not refused — the same Voice goes on to say, "You have heard Me." God heard Him for His piety and brought Him out of death.
Deliver my soul from the sword; my only one from the power of the dog;
The cross has reached its lowest point. The Sufferer turns from the crowd around Him to God alone, with a threefold plea for rescue. Older translations render the second line "my darling" where the ESV has "my precious life." The Hebrew word behind it opens up much of the verse.
The prayer turns from what men are doing back to God Himself.
Once more, then, in this psalm, the appeal is made: "But You, Jehovah, be not far from Me!" After all that man has done or can do, and without making light of this... still Where is God? is the question of questions. To this, therefore, He returns, pleading that God, His strength, shall appear on His behalf. Power He refused for Himself to save Him from this place; "by might can none prevail" when in it... "Rescue my soul from the sword; my only one from the power of the dog." This is the deliverance in full, for it involves all else, though it is the outward enemies that are in view. "My soul," as we see from its use elsewhere (Num. 23:10), is the Hebrew equivalent of "myself," and "my only one" answers to it in the parallel — though some would give it as "my solitary one."
The Hebrew word behind "my darling" is yachid. One dictionary traces it to a title given to Christ.
Christ is also spoken of as God's "only begotten Son." John 1:14, 18; John 3:16, 18; 1 John 4:9. The word is μονογενής, and is equivalent to the Hebrew word yachid, which means "only one," and so "darling." Ps. 22:20; Ps. 35:17; etc. It is a term of endearment.
The word does not only mark affection. It also marks something standing on its own.
Wherever the Hebrew word YACHID appears and the Septuagint Greek translates it MONOGENES, it sets an object before the mind in a single or solitary way. It may be an only son or daughter, or a son marked out by affection and honour in a human household... or an object placed in a unique position of loneliness, of aloneness, of being by one's self.
Who is "my only one"? One writer lays out the options and refuses to force a choice.
Verse 20 has a remarkable expression: "my darling, or my only one [margin], from the power of the dog." I am not sure of the true meaning of these words. We may refer them to the Sufferer Himself. On the other hand, the words may be applied to the Church, bound up in the dying thoughts of Jesus, who gave Himself for her. That is simple and very precious. And it does not seem unreasonable... to give the word a particular application to Israel and Jerusalem below — the nation for which He died.
Each animal in the psalm names a kind of enemy.
In verse 12, bulls, that is, violent men, who do their own will; in verse 16, dogs, that is, shameless ones. In verse 21, the lion's mouth, that is, Satan's power over death.
The three requests come in an order, and the order matters.
A threefold deliverance is sought; first from the sword of judgment, then from the power of man, and lastly from the power of Satan — the lion's mouth. Still, He must bear the judgment before deliverance can come. First the word of the Lord through the prophet must be fulfilled: "Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, says the Lord of hosts" (Zech. 13:7).
Within a line, the voice that was asking begins reporting.
We are left to ponder this. The same Voice that said to God, "Save me from the lion's mouth," adds afterwards, "You have heard me from the horns of the wild oxen." Earlier He said, "O My God, I cry... but You do not hear" (v. 2). Now He declares to Him, "You have heard Me."... Then the moment came when He knew that His work of propitiation for sins was finished. He knew that God, who was able to save Him out of death, had heard Him because of His piety (Heb. 5:7).
- Alone — the word here, yachid, means "only one." It covers an only son held in special affection, and also someone set in complete aloneness. Both senses fit the cross.
- Asking — He refuses to rescue Himself by power. He turns from what men are doing to Him and puts the whole case into God's hands: "be not far from me."
- Enemies — the sword, the dog, the lion. Commentators read these as judgment, shameless men, and Satan's power over death.
- Order — deliverance comes only after the judgment. The sword must fall on the Shepherd first. Then the rescue can come.
- Answered — the voice that cried "you do not hear" later says "you have heard me." The asking becomes receiving.
Save me from the lion's mouth. Yea, from the horns of the buffaloes hast thou answered me.
This verse breaks in half. One moment Christ pleads for rescue from the mouth of the lion. The next, He speaks of an answer already received. Commentators call this half-verse the hinge of the whole psalm: agony turns into praise here.
Each animal named in the psalm stands for a power pressing in on the Sufferer. The last one is the deadliest.
In Psalms 20, 21, we see human enemies, and judgment, but in Psalm 22 divine wrath and perfect grace. In verse 12, bulls, that is, violent men, who do their own will; in verse 16, dogs, that is shameless ones. In verse 21, the lion's mouth, that is, Satan's power over death.
Older translations call the wild oxen "unicorns." One reference work explains the picture:
Its great strength and wildness are its main marks. Unlike the tame ox, no one can put it to work on a farm… The Lord asked to be saved from the lion's mouth, for Jehovah had heard Him from the horns of the wild oxen (Ps. 22:21). His relentless enemies are compared to these animals.
Partway through the verse the Speaker stops asking. He starts reporting.
The intensity of prayer gives way to the fervency of praise. The Lord pleads with Jehovah: "O My strength, hurry to help Me. Deliver My soul from the sword; My precious life (My only one) from the power of the dog; save Me from the lion's mouth" (vv. 19-21). Then in the middle of verse 21, the Speaker changes His tone. Up to this point in the Psalm, His theme has been prayer without an answer. Now the answer has come; the reply is received.
The ESV reads "You have rescued me." Older versions read "You have heard Me." A plea would more naturally end with "answer me," so some question the grammar. One writer defends the past tense:
The force of the verse lies in the unexpected turn. After "and from the horns of the r'eem" (wild oxen or buffaloes), the natural thought would have been "answer me." But there can be no doubt about the only right sense. Nearly all writers, if not all, give it as "you have answered," or heard, "me." You cannot get a future meaning out of it without twisting the words of Scripture.
Commentators differ over where the weight of the line falls:
Some would divide this Psalm in the middle of verse 21, as though the stress fell on "you have heard me," rather than on "from the horns of the unicorns."
Earlier in the psalm God does not answer Him. One writer explains what has changed by verse 21.
God could not answer Him in verses 1-6. He was bearing sin then, and God could not spare Him that suffering. Verses 19-21 are completely different. Once His work of atonement was finished, God delivered Him "out of death," and so from the sword of the enemy. Never again would "the power of the dog" have any effect on Him. Nor would "the lion's mouth," nor "the horns of the wild oxen." So verse 21 ends, "You have answered Me." This is in His resurrection from among the dead.
Commentators also read the horns as more than a picture of enemies. One sees the altar behind them:
In the closing part of verse 21 ("You have heard me from the horns of the unicorns"), we see Him brought to the crisis of extreme suffering. He is on the very horns of the altar, like the sacrifice bound and laid on it. And we have His deliverance from there: "You have heard me."
After the answer, the psalm stops speaking of His own sorrow.
The answer of deliverance seems to start from the middle of verse 21. Notice that this part deals only with the blessing of others. It is a perfect contrast to the first part of the psalm, where He speaks of His own sorrows. Each new sphere in the ever-widening circle of blessing begins with an address to Him who is the deliverer. The brethren (v. 22)… then the great congregation, the meek, those who seek Him (vv. 25, 26)… finally, all the ends of the earth are included in the blessing of Jehovah's Kingdom (vv. 27, 28).
One writer ties the horns to power, and the answer to resurrection:
The horns of the wild oxen stand for power. The power of God answered Him, raised Him from the dead, and gave Him glory. So we see Him at once as the risen One, making a great declaration: "I will declare Your name unto My brethren."
- Cry — three pleas close the dark half of the psalm: the sword, the dog's power, the mouth of the lion. That mouth stands for Satan's power over death.
- Turn — mid-verse the tone breaks. Prayer becomes praise, and the verb moves to the past: the answer has come.
- Ground — the silence of the opening verses ends only when atonement is finished. The answer is His resurrection, not an escape from the suffering.
- Altar — the horns picture the sacrifice bound and laid on. So the answer comes from the very place of death.
- Reach — from that answered cry the psalm turns outward. The blessing widens from "My brethren" to the ends of the earth.
I will declare thy name unto my brethren, in the midst of the congregation will I praise thee.
Psalm 22 begins with a cry of abandonment and ends in a song. Verse 22 is the hinge between them. The moment God answers Him, His first thought is not of Himself but of others. He gives them a name, "My brothers," and gathers them to praise.
Verse 22 follows straight on from the end of verse 21, where God answers the cry.
God has heard the Forsaken One from the horns of the wild oxen. Propitiation is made, and the service of praise begins at once. The sweet smell of the holiest incense mixes with the smoke of the accepted sin offering. His eyes are still lifted to heaven. The Captain of salvation, now made "perfect through sufferings," says: "I will tell of Your name to My brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will praise You" (v. 22). Here is the prophetic promise of the results of an accomplished atonement.
Why does He call them "brothers"? One writer connects the word to what the risen Christ told His disciples.
He is not ashamed to call the disciples His brothers... Now that His atoning work is finished, He clearly acknowledges this blessed fruit of it. Sins are not only forgiven to faith by virtue of His shed blood. Believers are also related in the most intimate way to Himself, the risen Man and Son of God. They are His brothers; to whom, according to Ps. 22:22, He proceeds to make known the name, not merely of Jehovah, but of the Father... "And say to them, I ascend to My Father and your Father, My God and your God."
The name He declares is therefore the name of a relationship He now shares.
One of the great objects for which the Lord Jesus came to this earth was to reveal the Father... apparently before He left the cross, the desire to reveal the Father's name, in the manner which could only be done after His resurrection, was especially on His heart, for it is written, "I will declare Your name to My brothers"... thus showing them that they now possessed the same relationship as Himself.
The suffering of the first half of the psalm was His alone. The praise of the second half He shares.
All the suffering and sorrow were His; His joy He would share with those He loved. He Himself leads their praises. He is come out from unutterable, unfathomable agony and shame, and does He keep silence? Does not fullness of joy now answer to God's forsaking Him then for our sin? He had been in the depths for us, but now He is out and praising.
He can share it because He brings us into His own place.
Christ is the one singing the praises. He raises the song because His place and ours are now the same. He comes and brings us into this place and says, I will sing in the midst of the assembly. He went down into the place of death and drank the cup of wrath. He comes out into all the blessedness of His Father's delight — not only as His eternal delight, but as the One who has done the work for God. He comes out, tells us His name, and then says, "you must come and sing with me."
If Christ is the one praising, the obvious question is by what voice.
The Lord Himself is the centre of worship as regards praise. He Himself has gathered us together; He takes His place in our midst. His own presence in worship matters so much that without it there is no praise worth the name. He says: "In the midst of the congregation I will praise You" (Ps. 22:22). How does He praise? By using the voice of the Assembly as gathered around Himself. It is unquestionable that this can only be by His Spirit and by our mouths, but it is equally true that it is He who praises.
Commentators also set this verse apart from the wider praise promised later in the psalm.
The time had not yet come for Messiah to praise God in "the great congregation" (verse 25), when all twelve tribes of Israel will be gathered in full... Verse 22 is plainly different. The Spirit who inspired the Letter to the Hebrews applies it now. The truth of it was made good that evening when Jesus came. The doors were shut for fear of the Jews, yet He stood among the assembled disciples and said, "Peace be to you"... He is in the midst where two or three are gathered to His name. How unbelieving, then, to doubt that He will lead our praise!
Because the song is His, our songs must match it.
Hebrews 2:12 quotes Psalm 22:22, where the risen Jesus takes the place of leader of the praise of His brothers. Our songs should therefore always accord with His. He has passed through death for us. If our worship voices uncertainty and doubt instead of the joy and assurance of a finished redemption, it brings discord with the mind of heaven, not harmony.
- Answered. God answers the cry, and the praise starts at once. Verse 22 is what a finished atonement sounds like.
- Named. God hears Him, and His first act is to name His people "My brothers" — brought into the closest tie with the risen Christ.
- Shared. He suffered alone but refuses to praise alone; the place He entered He hands over whole.
- Present. "In the midst" is not past tense — He leads the song by His Spirit through the mouths of those gathered to His name.
- In tune. The song is His, so worship full of doubt instead of settled joy is out of tune with heaven.
Ye that fear Jehovah, praise him; all ye the seed of Jacob, glorify him; and revere him, all ye the seed of Israel.
The psalm turns here. The cry of one abandoned man becomes a call to a whole nation for praise, glory and awe. Who is calling, and what has happened since the darkness of the psalm's opening?
The One calling for praise is the sufferer of the earlier verses. He is now delivered, and He leads the song He asks others to sing.
Having been delivered, the Afflicted One becomes the Offerer of praise to God and the ever-acceptable Leader of the singing of His people. He declares the name of His Deliverer to His brothers (John 20:17). In the midst of the assembly He awakens praises to God (Heb. 2:12). Then Messiah calls on all the people of Israel to glorify Jehovah and stand in awe of Him (v. 23). The people had despised and hated Him (Isa. 53:2-3), but Jehovah had not despised the affliction of the Afflicted One. Jehovah had now heard His cries.
The verse names its hearers twice: offspring of Jacob, offspring of Israel. One writer notes that both names belong to the same man, and traces the praise of his descendants back to Messiah.
The results of Messiah's deliverance now fill the mouths of the seed of Him who is both Jacob and Israel with the praises of their God. These verses clearly point forward to the promised times of restoration (Acts 3:19-21).
The call has a reason, and the very next verse gives it. One writer points to the event that proved it in public.
Next comes a call to others, and it rests on the resurrection of the suffering Messiah… We may note in passing that the words the Lord spoke before He died already pointed to this: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!" God's public answer to His cry was to raise Him from the dead.
The people summoned are already marked out by their fear. One writer asks what turns that fear into praise.
Those who fear Jehovah are to praise Him. People fear Jehovah, and they only fear; but this work makes those who fear Him praise Him. Those who feared Jehovah in that day and suffered could take courage. Christ was their warrant for deliverance and confidence — and He could be that, because He had made atonement — and for real deliverance too. For Jehovah had not turned a deaf ear to the affliction of the afflicted one, nor hidden His face from him.
The audience keeps growing. In this verse the circle opens out from the gathered few to the whole nation.
Now that Jehovah has heard Him in resurrection, He can declare Jehovah's name to His brothers on new ground. He gathers the faithful remnant around Himself and sings in the midst of the congregation… Then He calls on all Israel too, because Jehovah heard Him. And His praise is in the great congregation — all Israel, when it is fully gathered in days to come; and then all the ends of the world, "for the kingdom is Jehovah's." This gives the psalm a very special force. Its own depth goes beyond all our feelings, and it is the foundation of all our hopes.
This call is not only about the past. One writer traces one Leader of praise through every era, including our own.
Psalm 22:22-27 undoubtedly refers to the Spirit of Christ inspiring the Psalmist, and the same is true all through the Old Testament. Hebrews 2 is more specific. It applies that scripture to show that in the midst of the Church, Christ Himself leads the praise which goes up in an unbroken stream to God the Father. That is descriptive of what has been going on throughout the Christian era.
- Cause — The next verse gives the reason. God did not despise the affliction of the Afflicted One, and His public answer to that cry was resurrection.
- Gift — Because Christ made atonement, fear turns into praise. Those who only feared now have a warrant to worship.
- Voice — The One calling is not standing outside the choir. He declares God's name to His brothers and leads the singing Himself.
- Reach — The circle widens from the gathered few, to all Israel in the great congregation, to the ends of the earth.
- Result — What began with one abandoned sufferer ends as an unbroken stream of praise going up to God, and the same Leader still leads it today.
For he hath not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; neither hath he hid his face from him but when he cried unto him, he heard.
This Psalm opens with a cry of being forsaken, but here it says the opposite: God never turned away from this Sufferer. So how can the same voice say God did not answer, and then say He heard?
Verse 2 and verse 24 look like a contradiction. One writer holds them together by giving each its place.
"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, of course, true: each suited in its place. The psalm here celebrates the hearing, and that out of the sanctuary — the answer of God in His holiness to the Holy One. That answer, and the blessing it brings to the people of God (that is, to Israel and the millennial nations), fills the rest of the psalm.
At first the Psalm sounds as if God had turned His face away. One writer admits how it looked, then says what was true at the same moment.
He says, "He has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and He has not hidden His face from Him." You would have thought that He had at least hidden His face from Him. The opening verse gives that impression, and it was true as far as any help from God was concerned. While the question of sin stood between the holy Sufferer and a God of judgment, there could be no sign that God heard Him. Yet never in His whole history was He more the delight of the heart of God than when He was made sin on that cross.
The hearing came only after atonement. One writer shows what that gives to others who suffer.
Those who feared the Lord in that day and suffered could take courage, for Christ was their guarantee of deliverance and their ground of confidence, since He had made atonement. And now, heard when that was accomplished, He could assure others of deliverance also.
One writer names the moment when the answer became public:
The Lord had already looked ahead to this, we may note in passing, in the words He spoke before He died: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." The public answer to His cry came when God raised Him from the dead.
Israel judged the afflicted One one way; God judged Him another. One writer looks ahead to the day Israel learns the difference.
The nation Israel has been guilty of despising and abhorring the affliction of the afflicted One. But they will then learn that God has not done so. Though they treated Him as one "from whom men hide their faces" (Isa. 53:3), God has not hidden His face, but "when He cried to Him, He heard" (v. 24). What profound effect this will have on Israel when they at last turn back to the Lord!
For one writer, the hearing is no surprise. It is the only thing God could have done.
"When He cried to Him He heard." How could it be otherwise? How could God ever forget the afflictions of His beloved Son? How could He turn a deaf ear to the cry of distress from the One who was always the delight of His heart? … Not one tear that He shed will ever fade from the memory of His Father and His God. Not one groan or sigh or cry of distress from that lonely, lowly, faithful witness will ever be lost from it. His afflictions are too sacred and too precious ever to be forgotten.
Once He is heard, the Psalm turns outward. One writer traces how far the blessing reaches.
The Son of God, as the fruit of His own abandonment, tells the now-acknowledged "brethren" the Father's name. He who was in that unique, solitary place, praises in the midst of the congregation which He gathers, and whose praise He leads. Yes, "the afflicted shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the Lord" (26) [older translation: "the meek… they that fear the Lord"]. The heart of the redeemed shall taste the joy of eternal life. The wave of blessing spreads to the ends of the earth, and to generations still to come — joy out of sorrow, praise out of desertion, light out of darkness, life out of death.
- Cry — Verse 2 says God did not answer; verse 24 says He heard. Commentators hold both as true, each belonging to its own moment in the cross.
- Cost — While God judged sin at the cross, no sign of His favour showed. Yet His Son was never more the delight of His heart.
- Answer — The hearing came once atonement was complete. Writers point to the resurrection as God's public answer to the cry.
- Reversal — Men despised the afflicted One; God did not. One day Israel will discover that His verdict was the opposite of theirs.
- Overflow — God heard Him, so blessing spreads: to the brothers He now acknowledges, to Israel, to the ends of the earth, to generations not yet born.
My praise is from thee, in the great congregation; I will pay my vows before them that fear him.
Psalm 22 moves from the cry of a forsaken Sufferer to a song, and by verse 25 the singer looks out over a far bigger crowd than in verse 22. Two questions shape the verse: where does this praise come from, and who makes up the "great congregation"?
The praise of verse 25 rests on what happened earlier in the psalm. One writer sets Psalm 22 beside Psalm 69, where Christ suffers at the hands of men, and traces the different outcomes to whose hand caused the suffering.
It is from God's hand that the Lord takes the cup. "You have brought me," He says, "into the dust of death." And just because He suffers here from the hand of God, and is forsaken, we have atonement in this psalm. In Psalm 69, for example, He suffers from man's hand, and His death there is rather that of a martyr — though every aspect is included in His one act of death. This explains why such different results flow from His death in these two psalms. In Psalm 69, where the Lord suffers from man in his wickedness, the result is pure judgment with nothing to soften it. In Psalm 22, where atonement is found, grace and blessing flow out in ever-widening circles, until they reach the ends of the earth.
Older translations read "my praise shall be of you." One commentator takes this to mean praise that has its source in God Himself, voiced by the One who knows this deliverance perfectly.
Christ, having been on the horns of the wild oxen, knows perfectly what God is in deliverance and how great that deliverance is. We know it only very imperfectly. But our weakness finds comfort and encouragement in this thought: praise rises like a sweet fragrance before God the Father, because the Lord who reveals it to us is the centre of it, the Leader, and the One who expresses it... It is no less true that God is its source (as we read: "My praise shall be of" — rather from — "you in the great congregation"), that the Lord is the centre of it, and that the Holy Spirit expresses it.
The psalm names a smaller congregation in verse 22 and a great one here. One writer treats both as vows the risen Christ undertook, paid at different times.
On this ground He makes His vows: first, to declare God's name to His brothers; second, to praise Him in the congregation (of Israel), and in the great congregation (of all the nations). He began to pay the first at once, on being delivered from death (John 20:17), and He is still fulfilling it in all the saints (Romans 8:15). He will pay the second in the kingdom, when Israel and the nations are gathered, the seed of Jacob glorifying God, and the families of the nations worshipping before Him.
The smaller circle is no small thing. Another writer weighs today's little company of believers against the crowd still to come.
The Holy Spirit quotes Psalm 22:22 in Hebrews 2:12 and applies it to the present time... It is only a "little flock" compared with the great congregation of the kingdom age. But the Assembly is all that He has during this period of His rejection, and it is His present joy. How far do our hearts enter into this?
Commentators differ on the exact membership. Some see restored Israel:
The river of grace widens still further, for now we pass on to "the great congregation." This is all Israel regathered and restored for millennial blessing. Christ will lead their praise, and fulfil every promise that had been made.
Others read it wider, taking in the nations gathered under blessing in the millennial day — the coming age of the kingdom:
The great congregation, in which the Spirit of Christ will render this acceptable worship, refers, I believe, to the assembly of saved nations in the millennial day. The Lord of hosts shall bless them, saying, "Blessed be Egypt my people, and Assyria the work of my hands, and Israel my inheritance."
The vows here are not empty words. There was only one way to pay them.
He had vowed to greatly bless Israel, and this vow could be fulfilled only by His willingly sacrificing Himself. Now raised from the dead, His vows are completely paid, as Israel will yet fully understand.
- Cause — Christ suffered from God's hand and made atonement. So Psalm 22 ends in widening blessing, while Psalm 69 ends in judgment.
- Source — The praise is from God: He is its source, Christ its centre and Leader, the Holy Spirit its voice.
- Circles — He pays the first vow now, among His brothers. The great congregation of verse 25 waits for the kingdom.
- Reach — Commentators differ. Is the great congregation restored Israel, or the saved nations gathered with them? Either way, the circle widens far beyond the first.
- Cost — He paid the vows by His own willing sacrifice. Now risen, He leads the praise He secured.
The meek shall eat and be satisfied; they shall praise Jehovah that seek him your heart shall live for ever.
After the cross, Psalm 22 sets a table. This verse raises three questions: who eats, what they eat, and why a meal ends with a promise of life for ever. (Older translations read "the meek" where the ESV reads "the afflicted," and read the last line as a statement, "Your heart shall live for ever," where the ESV reads "May your hearts live forever!")
Everything from verse 22 onward rests on a finished work, and the tone of the psalm changes.
From verse 22 we find nothing but grace. Do you who seek God say, Oh that I could find Him? But He has found you. Come then and praise Him. Christ has been on the cross, bearing our sins. You have to learn it as an accomplished fact; not saying, I hope He will do it. The work is done, sin is entirely put away, and Christ is the leader of praise. He leads it according to His estimate of sin, of the wrath due to it, borne in grace, and of the perfect deliverance He displayed in His own resurrection. From then on we hear praise, and praise only.
The same writer sets two kinds of suffering side by side.
Christ's sufferings from man for righteousness brought judgment on man. His hand will find out all His enemies. But His sufferings from the hand of God for sin bring only blessing, the outflowing of grace alone. Psalm 22 shows this in a striking way.
The blessing is tied to a certain kind of person. One writer asks what the word means and answers it.
What does "meek" mean? I answer, the meek is one who is not occupied with self. Nature hates a vacuum. So if I am not occupied with self, I must be occupied with something else. If we are not occupied with self, we are set free to be occupied with Christ. "The meek shall eat and be satisfied." Oh, the satisfaction there is in feeding on the mighty love of God, and on Christ as the expression of it! And if you are satisfied, you will want nothing else. You won't want the world, its pleasures and its associations.
The same writer explains why the picture is eating.
Eating is the strongest expression of assimilation. If I put money in my pocket I may lose it, or someone may pick my pocket. But no one can take from me the breakfast I had yesterday morning. The cleverest doctors and chemists in the world could not get it out of me. I have assimilated it. It is important that we should consider how far we as Christians are really assimilating — making things our own.
The verse just before this one speaks of paying vows. One writer ties the meal to those vows, and reads the closing promise as the host's word to His guests.
The reference is, no doubt, as Delitzsch observes, to the peace-offering that went with vows. Here Messiah's vows spread a royal banquet, and at it the humble feed in communion to fullest satisfaction. "Your heart shall live for ever" becomes in this way the assurance of the Host to the guests — an assurance full of blessing.
The verse ties seeking to praising. One writer marks the difference between the two.
There is nothing but blessing for those who have found Christ. Have you found Him? Or do you say you are seeking Him? Well, it is a blessed thing to see a man seeking. But Christ suffered for sin, and He must see the fruit of the anguish of His soul. He says, "They shall praise the Lord that seek Him" — but there is no praising until you have found Him.
The table starts small, but it does not stay that way. One writer traces how far the blessing spreads.
The meek of the earth would now eat and be satisfied, and be at peace. But the blessing would not limit itself to Israel. All the ends of the world would remember themselves, and turn to Jehovah, and worship before Him. For the kingdom will then be Jehovah's. And it would not stop with that generation. They would tell people not yet born that Jehovah had done this.
- Cause — From verse 22 on, the psalm is nothing but grace. What Christ suffered from men brought judgment on men; what He bore from God's hand brings blessing only.
- Host — The meal is the peace-offering that went with Messiah's vows. He provides the banquet, and the promise of a heart that lives for ever is His word to His guests.
- Guest — The meek are those not taken up with self, and so free to be taken up with Christ. That is why they are satisfied and want nothing else.
- Eating — Eating means assimilation. No one can take back the meal you have digested. The test is how much of Christ you are making your own.
- Result — Seeking turns into praise when Christ is found. And the praise keeps spreading: from Israel, to the nations, to people not yet born.
All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn unto Jehovah, and all the families of the nations shall worship before thee
Psalm 22 opens with the cry of the forsaken One on the cross and ends with the whole earth turning to God. This verse is the turning point: how does one death in Jerusalem bring every family on earth to worship?
The psalm divides in two. In the first half the suffering comes from God's hand, not just from man's. So what flows out of it is blessing, not judgment — and the blessing keeps spreading.
It is from God's hand that the Lord takes the cup. "You have brought me," He says, "into the dust of death." Because He suffers here from the hand of God, and is forsaken, we have atonement in this psalm. In Psalm 69, for example, He suffers from man's hand, and His death there is more the death of a martyr. This explains why His death brings such different results in these two psalms. In Psalm 69 the Lord suffers from man in his wickedness, and the result is pure, unmixed judgment. In Psalm 22 there is atonement, and grace and blessing flow out in ever-widening circles, until they reach the ends of the earth.
Praise here moves outward in stages, and each stage is wider than the last. The final circle takes in every level of society, from the rich to the dying.
Next, in the last days, He turns to all Israel, so that His praise may be in the great congregation. Next, the word goes out to all the ends of the world, to bring them into this blessed circle of praise. Are they the rich of the earth? They eat and worship. Are they, whoever they may be, those on whom death lies, who go down into the dust? They must be witnesses of this mighty deliverance by the dying and risen Saviour.
The word remember assumes something was forgotten. God is not introducing the nations to Himself for the first time. He is calling them home.
And this is the voice that calls man home, after his long wandering: "All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations shall worship before You." So the universal kingdom will come. Man will stand before God in the place of a creature, and simply keeping that place is perfect blessing.
The change is not only in whom the nations worship. It is also in what they leave behind.
The blessing His death on the cross won will go still further: "All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations shall worship before You." What a remarkable change will come over the face of the earth, when the nations are turned from their idolatry and are found worshipping the true God! This great result of Christ's coming is God's answer to what His Son received from men when they put Him on a criminal's cross.
The verse promises worship from every family of nations. But worship on that scale is not the same thing as conversion on that scale.
All flesh in that day will not be converted, but all will worship God.
Nothing in the world today looks like this verse. Yet half of the psalm has already come true in plain history.
All blessing flows from the death and resurrection of our precious Lord. It is most important to see this — blessing for an individual, for the Church now, for the Jews, and for the world in the future. If His soul had not been made an offering for sin, if God had not forsaken Him — oh, wondrous mystery of redeeming love! — there could never have been either a saved sinner or a blessed nation… Now, half of this psalm has come true on the cross. Why should we doubt that the other half will come true on the throne?
- Cause. The verse is an effect, not a wish. Christ suffered from God's hand and made atonement. So the outcome is blessing, not judgment.
- Circles. Praise spreads outward in stages: the gathered few, then all Israel, then the ends of the earth. No class of people stands outside it.
- Recall. "Remember" treats the nations as wanderers. Turning to God is a return, not a discovery.
- Reach. The families of the nations leave their idols and worship the true God. But worship by all is not the same as conversion of all.
- Result. Half the psalm came true at the cross. The other half waits for the throne, and both are equally sure.
For the kingdom is Jehovah's, and he ruleth among the nations.
The psalm that opens with a cry of abandonment ends with an announcement about the whole world. This verse gives the reason the nations turn and worship. Commentators press two questions: what earns such a sweeping result, and when does it arrive?
The verse begins with "For." That word points back to the sufferings described in the first half of the psalm. The cross paid for what the nations will one day receive.
It is most important to see that all blessing flows from the death and resurrection of our precious Lord. That is true of blessing to an individual, to the Church now, to the Jews, and to the world afterwards. If God had not made His soul an offering for sin, if God had not forsaken Him — oh, wondrous mystery of redeeming love! — there could never have been either a saved sinner or a blessed nation.
The same writer draws a conclusion from this. Half of this psalm came true at the cross, in public view. Why doubt that the other half will come true on the throne?
Read against today's news, the verse sounds unfulfilled. One writer takes that head on and explains what God is doing with the time.
So far, this is far from accomplished, for God still allows man's rebellion to express itself openly. But what a change will come when the Lord Jesus claims the kingdom that is His by right! ... It is amazing to think how long God has waited in patience since the cross of Christ. His judgment has not yet fallen, and Christ does not yet hold His proper place, reigning over all the world. He has indeed lengthened out the day of grace! But His patience is not indifference, and the prophecy here is absolute truth.
Elsewhere Scripture calls the ends of the earth to turn. Here the verse states an outcome. One writer marks that shift, and the difference between how God works now and how He will work then.
From now on it is not merely calling on all the ends of the earth to remember — they shall remember. It will not be the gospel of grace as now, nor the church, but the kingdom in its display of power. So all shall turn to Jehovah, as we are assured here, "and all the families of the nations shall worship before you."
Older translations render the second line "he is the governor among the nations," where the ESV says He rules over them. If rule belongs to the LORD, every human ruler holds borrowed authority. One commentator draws that out for daily life, long before the kingdom appears.
Anyone who holds power or rule carries a special responsibility to God as His delegate. When he rules and uses power, he is handling what belongs to God, and not to man. For "power belongs to God" (Psalm 62:11). And again, "He is the governor among the nations." ... To refuse to acknowledge this due is to deny the sovereignty of God.
A second writer applies the same title to whole peoples. God deals with nations, not only with people one by one. He is the Governor among the nations, and He has set each of them in its appointed place.
The result of the psalm is praise, not vengeance, and it is worth noticing what kind of praise is promised.
The sufferings of Christ will yield what the whole world has never yet rendered to God — united and universal praise. Now there is praise from a few here and a few there. But the psalm looks at a time when all the world will rejoice in God and give Him what is due to His name.
Commentators do differ on how deep that universal worship goes. One writer adds a caution. In that day not all flesh will be converted, but all will worship God. Nations will render homage, and that is not the same as new life in every heart.
- Cause. The nations' worship rests on the cross. Without God forsaking His Son there could never have been a saved sinner or a blessed nation.
- Guarantee. The cross fulfilled half of this psalm in plain sight. The throne will fulfill the other half.
- Delay. The rule is real, but not yet on show. God's long wait is patience, lengthening the day of grace, not indifference.
- Reach. Then comes the kingdom in open power, not the gospel of grace or the church. No longer a call to remember: the nations will remember.
- Result. Praise the world has never yet given: united and universal, offered to the One who owns the authority every ruler only borrows.
All the fat ones of the earth shall eat and worship; all they that go down to the dust shall bow before him, and he that cannot keep alive his own soul.
Psalm 22 starts with the cry of a forsaken sufferer and ends with a song that spreads across the earth. Verse 29 is the widest point of that song. It raises two questions: who are the two groups named here, and who is the one that could not keep himself alive?
One writer places this verse in the age of glory still to come on earth:
Christ is not content with having the church with Him and seeing Israel blessed. He must bring in the millennial glory. He will take up high and low — "all the families of the nations" ... All the redeemed shall join in this song: "He has done it."
The two halves of the verse name opposite ends of a scale. The blessing reaches the top and the bottom alike:
The blessing will reach every class. It reaches the prosperous, the fat upon the earth. It reaches those in extreme need, ready to go down to the dust. And it reaches the poor, who lack the means to keep alive the soul.
The two groups do not respond in the same way. One writer links them to the sheep and the goats:
All who are blessed and enriched — those spoken of as "fat upon earth" — will be worshipping at His feet. But those who go down to the dust will also have to bow before Him. This seems to be a reference to the "sheep" and the "goats" in Matthew 25:31-46. In that day men will either be blessed or judged. Either way, they will have to acknowledge the Lord and give Him glory.
Commentators differ on the final clause. Some read it as a statement about people in general. Older translations render it, "none can keep alive his own soul":
That day will be a day of confessed dependence, though also a day of the richest blessing. The reason is that "none can keep alive his own soul." He is the life and strength of all, just as He is exalted above all.
Others apply the clause to Christ Himself. The ESV keeps that reading open: "even the one who could not keep himself alive."
"... even He who did not keep alive His own soul," (as is the proper translation). The point here is that He willingly went into death for the sake of mankind, and therefore many indeed will worship Him, while even those who go down to the dust will bow before Him.
Read that way, the verse leaves the prosperous nothing to boast about. Their place cost Him the grave:
Man's pride and self-satisfaction may well come down before this: "the fat upon the earth have eaten and worship." What are they, apart from Him, but "those going down to the dust"? It was on their account that He went to the grave Himself: He "who did not preserve alive His own soul." These are men under condemnation, and they owe everything to His blessed work. Their joy and worship repay Him with love like His own — "the fruit of the travail of His soul."
The verse puts two actions side by side, and their order matters. One writer draws a practical test from it. Older translations read "fat upon the earth" where the ESV has "prosperous":
There is a remarkable connection between eating and worship. Psalm 22:29 helps us here. "Those who are fat upon the earth shall eat and — WORSHIP." That is, those who value the spiritual food on "the Lord's table" are the ones who worship. Why is there so little worship? Because there is so little spiritual eating.
- Cost. He went to the grave willingly and did not keep His own soul alive. That is the price behind every blessing in this verse.
- Reach. From that cost the blessing runs to both extremes: the prosperous of the earth and those sinking into the dust. It reaches every class.
- Response. Some bow in worship; others must bow in judgment. Either way, all acknowledge Him in that day.
- Dependence. No one keeps his own soul alive. The richest day earth will ever see is also the day man admits he lives on borrowed life.
- Return. People who owe Him everything repay His love with worship — the fruit of the travail of His soul. The same order holds today: those who eat are the ones who worship.
A seed shall serve him; it shall be accounted to the Lord for a generation.
The psalm opens with a cry of abandonment. It closes with a crowd of worshippers, and this verse is where that crowd begins. Where the ESV says "Posterity," older translations read "a seed," and the writers below work from that older wording. Two questions come up again and again: who is this seed, and what does it mean to be counted to the Lord as a generation?
Christ had no children during His life on earth, yet the psalm promises Him descendants. One writer traces that promise back to a question Isaiah asks about the suffering Servant:
This is the answer to the question of Isaiah 53:8, "and who will declare His generation?" During His life on earth He had no seed. But in resurrection, "He shall see His seed, He shall prolong His days, and the will of the Lord shall prosper in His hand" (Isa 53:10). Because of the value of His sacrifice, His children will be a great multitude.
"Seed" is first a title of Christ Himself, and only then a name for His people. The ESV renders the word "offspring":
Remember how Scripture predicted our Lord Himself as the "Seed" of the woman in Genesis 3, and again as the "Seed" of Abraham. About that promise the Apostle wrote, "It does not say, 'And to offsprings,' referring to many, but referring to one, 'And to your offspring,' who is Christ" (Gal. 3:16)... He, who above all is the "Seed," is to have a seed of His own order in His risen life.
Here "a generation" means a people God owns as His own. Being owned brings a task:
"A seed shall serve Him: it shall be counted to the Lord for a generation." Literally, "the generation" — the one, I take it, that truly is such: a people born of God. The full expression of that thought waits for the New Testament. But God counts them as His. He owns them as such, and it falls to them to keep the testimony of the grace they have received: "they shall come and shall declare His righteousness to a people that shall be born, because He has done this."
The same writer adds a warning. The work of Christ does not produce this seed on its own. Unless the Spirit works in sovereign power, "there will be no effect."
The verse marks an exchange. The generation that refused Christ gives way to a new people, in an age still to come.
The old Christ-rejecting generation is gone. But the returned remnant, after passing through judgment and being cut down, shall be a holy seed and a new stock. "They shall come, and shall declare His righteousness (now at last cured of any high opinion of themselves) to a people that shall be born, that He has done this." (Verses 29-31) This is not heaven or eternity, and not the present evil age. It is the bright and holy age to come.
Some take the seed to be the Church, seen apart from Israel, and hear an echo of the verse in Hebrews:
A seed shall serve Him (verse 30). This seems to mean the Church, seen apart from Israel. It shall be counted to the Lord for a generation. Compare the apostle's quotation in Heb. 2:13: "Behold, I and the children God has given me."
Another writer takes the seed to be Israel's believing remnant. He admits the verse is not easy:
I am not sure verses 30 and 31 apply to the same thing. Verse 30 seems clearly the remnant out of the Jewish congregation... "I will make of the remnant a strong nation." I take it that "they shall come" is the remnant of the latter day, which shall become a strong nation, and the great congregation.
One writer sees a company already answering to this description. He names them from the Lord's own prayer:
There is "a seed" who serve Him, as we saw at the end of Psalm 22, and they and their seed shall last. This will have its fulfilment in the millennial age, but it also has a fulfilment now. Right now we may identify these servants and their seed with "the people whom You gave me out of the world" and "those who will believe in me through their word" (John 17:6 and 20). We come in among those who have believed in Jesus through the Apostles' word.
- Cost. The seed comes out of His death. He had no children on earth, but in resurrection He sees His seed, and the value of His sacrifice makes them a great multitude.
- Kind. He is Himself the promised Seed, and what He gains is "a seed of His own order in His risen life" — people begotten of God.
- Claim. Counted to the Lord for a generation means He owns them as His own: a people born of God.
- Reach. The Christ-rejecting generation passes. Commentators differ over who the new seed is — Israel's remnant, the Church, or all who believe through the apostles' word today.
- Errand. Those He owns carry the testimony on. They declare His righteousness to a people not yet born: "He has done this."
They shall come, and shall declare his righteousness unto a people that shall be born, that he hath done [it].
Psalm 22 begins with a cry of abandonment. It ends here, with news going out to people who are not yet born. Two questions hang over its last words: who is the "He," and what is the "this" that He has done?
One writer notes what John's Gospel leaves out of the crucifixion, and what it keeps.
John does not mention the three hours of darkness, or the forsaking and the bitter cry it drew out, which the first verse of Psalm 22 had predicted. Those things did not especially show that Jesus is God, the truth the Spirit of God had led John to stress. What did show it was the triumphant cry that closed His life on earth. Psalm 22 ends with the words, "He has done," and the New Testament equivalent is, "It is finished." He came into the world knowing all that the Father had entrusted to Him. He was leaving it knowing that all had been fulfilled. Not one thing was lacking.
The link is not only in sense but in the vocabulary itself.
"It is finished!" was His triumphant shout. In Greek it is one word — "tetelestai." And our Psalm ends with a similar word — "He has done." The Hebrew word "ohsa" carries the same thought: it is finished.
The verse says nothing about who "He" is or what He has done. One writer notes the vagueness and answers it.
The final phrase, "that He has done this (it)" is suggestive. The words are general, and some might ask, Who has done it? and What has He done? But to every spiritual mind the reference is obvious. It is the unmatched act of propitiation that Christ carried out on the cross. There He was displayed as a mercy-seat, to declare the righteousness of God about sins (Rom. 3:23-26).
Propitiation is the act that satisfies God about sin. The mercy-seat was the lid of the ark in the tabernacle, where the priest sprinkled blood.
Does the weight fall on the deed or on the Doer? One writer answers without hesitation.
What our blessed Lord has done — His work — is one thing. But what He is in Himself — His Person — is far more, for the work is only the necessary result of who He is. Jesus Christ has done what He has done, because He is what He is. May grace be given us each day and hour to grasp more fully what the closing verse of Psalm 22 says: "That He has done it." It means not only that He has done it, but that HE has done it — the One whose divine and human perfection gives His work its value.
The second half of Psalm 22 moves outward in stages, and this verse is the furthest reach of that movement.
His sufferings from the hand of God for sin bring only blessing, the outflowing of grace alone... Next, the word goes out to all the ends of the world, to bring them into this blessed circle of praise... The seed that is spared then will serve Him, and then it will flow down to other generations. They will come and proclaim "to a people yet unborn" this great and wondrous work of redemption; that blessed, lowly, afflicted One "had done this." All is the fruit of redemption and victory. Judgment has been silenced.
The hearers described here do not yet exist. One writer, comparing a parallel psalm, argues that more than birth is meant.
The Psalmist is led to see that more will be needed than mercy shown to sinful men. He predicts that "a people yet to be created may praise the LORD." In Psalm 22:31 he says, "They shall come and proclaim His righteousness to a people yet unborn, that He has done it." Here it is not a people that shall be born, but that shall be created... God is going to create a new kind of person to enjoy the blessing... Not a physical but a spiritual creation is in view.
One writer counts today's readers into that same testimony.
A new generation is in mind — "Behold, I and the children God has given Me." "They shall … proclaim His righteousness to a people yet unborn, that He has done it" (Psalm 22:31). What wondrous grace that we should have our part in this precious testimony! The night of sorrow is over, and "joy comes with the morning."
- Done. The psalm opens with "why have you forsaken me" and closes with "He has done it." The Hebrew matches the Greek tetelestai — "It is finished."
- Righteous. The deed is propitiation at the cross, which declares God's righteousness in dealing with sins.
- He. The weight sits on the Person as much as the deed: the work has its value because of who did it.
- Born. The hearers do not yet exist. They are a people to be created, brought into being to enjoy the blessing and to praise.
- Told. Those sufferings came from God's hand for sin, so they bring only blessing. It flows out to the nations and on to generations unborn, and we have a share in carrying it.
(A Psalm of David.) Jehovah is my shepherd; I shall not want.
David's opening line is the shortest creed in the Bible: a name, a relationship, and a conclusion. Everything else in the psalm rests on whether you can say that line and mean it.
Anyone can agree that God cares for people. This psalm turns on one small word.
Everyone can say the Lord is a Shepherd. So all the significance of this statement hangs on the little word "my." To say "my" Shepherd is the language of faith. The word "my" is the doorway into the psalm... And what follows? "I shall not want." We shall not want, not because we are sheep, but because He is our Shepherd. This conclusion flows, not from what we are to Him, but from what He is to us. Many of us begin with ourselves, and as we see what feeble, wayward creatures we are, we fall into doubts. When we begin with the Lord instead, we gain a well-grounded assurance that we "shall not want." For surely it belongs to the Shepherd to provide for the sheep.
Trusting Him to forgive is one thing. Following where He leads is another.
Every believer can say, "The Lord is my Saviour." But have we all truly submitted to His leading, so that we can each say, "The LORD is my Shepherd"? He has told us that He is "the Shepherd." But have we each told Him, You are "my Shepherd"? Have we accepted Him as our Saviour, who died for us to save us from our sins? And have we also submitted to Him as our Shepherd, to lead us home through all our difficulties?
The verse names no supplies. It names a Person. (This writer uses "Jehovah," the divine name the ESV prints as "the LORD.")
Its subject is "Jehovah is my Shepherd" — the constant, unfailing care He gives. It is not what He gives which assures the heart, but Himself. Power, grace, goodness, interest in the faithful One — all assure. They assure in all circumstances, for ever and always. He has taken the care of His faithful ones on Himself. These cannot want. We do not have to think about what may come, or what means He may use.
David does not reach this line early. He reaches it after the worst has happened.
But in Psalm 23 he cannot say, Jehovah is my shepherd, until he has been through all the power of evil... He counted on Jehovah, and learned to count on Him through all the difficulties of the way.
We secure ourselves by listing what we have. The psalm lists nothing.
There are the daily needs of the body. How are they to be met? The Psalmist does not say, "I hold a good job, I shall not want." He does not say, "I have kind friends who will care for me," or "I have plenty of money," or "I have youth, and health, and abilities." The LORD may meet our wants in all these ways, and many others. But the Psalmist speaks of none of these means. He looks beyond all secondary causes and providential ways, and he sees the LORD.
Sheep fail in four ways. Each failure has an answer in the shepherd.
If the sheep are hungry, the shepherd is there to guide them into green pastures. Are they foolish? He is there to keep their wandering feet. Are they weak? He gently leads his sheep and carries the lambs. Are they timid? He goes in front to lead them through the rough valleys, and to defend them from every enemy.
Three names describe the Shepherd, each tied to a psalm.
As the "Good Shepherd," who laid down His life for the sheep. (Compare John 10; Ps. 22) As the "Great Shepherd" — risen from the dead, He takes charge of the sheep as they journey through "that great and terrible wilderness." (Compare Heb. 13; Ps. 23) As the "Chief Shepherd," who will give a crown of glory to all His under-shepherds at His appearing and kingdom. (Compare 1 Peter 5; Ps. 24)
Commentators differ over which reader the psalm addresses first. Some read it straight as the believer's own song; others place its first application with Israel.
He is the Shepherd of each person who trusts in Him. He is also the Shepherd of Israel as a nation. The Patriarch Jacob spoke of this when he said, "the God which fed me," or, literally, "my Shepherd."
- Three names. The Good Shepherd laid down His life; the Great Shepherd leads the sheep through the wilderness; the Chief Shepherd will crown His servants at His appearing.
- Claim it. "My" is the doorway. The Shepherd's existence comforts no one until faith says the pronoun.
- Follow Him. Saviour means He died to save us from our sins. Shepherd means we submit to His leading.
- Count on Him. Job, friends, money and health may all be His means. The assurance is the Shepherd Himself, in every circumstance.
- He supplies what sheep lack. Hungry, foolish, weak, timid — each need answered by One who walks in front, all the way home.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside still waters.
Psalm 23 opens with a bold claim: the Lord Himself is the shepherd. Verse 2 shows what that shepherd does — He puts His sheep down in good grass and walks them to quiet water.
The verse describes gifts, but the psalm's confidence rests on the giver. One writer puts the difference plainly:
The point is not "Jehovah has given me plenty of green pastures" — though He does give them. The point is "He is my shepherd." Then come the green pastures and still waters. But he is not looking only at that.
The pastures matter because of where the sheep is standing:
In the wilderness path there are not only temporal wants, but spiritual needs. For the Christian the world around is an empty wilderness. There is nothing in all its passing vanities to feed the soul. Its pastures are dry and barren; its waters are only waters of strife. If "the LORD is my Shepherd," He will lead me into His green pastures and beside the still waters.
A hungry animal does not rest. So the lying down tells us something that the grass alone does not:
The spiritual food the Shepherd provides is always fresh, because He leads into the "green pastures." And the Shepherd does not only feed. He satisfies. He makes His sheep "lie down in green pastures." No hungry sheep would lie down surrounded by plenty. It would feed first, and lie down when full.
Lying down is also how sheep learn. One writer warns that busy searching is not the same as feeding:
Our Good Shepherd, in pasturing His sheep, does not make them run over the pastures, but "lie down" in them. Going after knowledge is not feeding. There are those who are "ever learning" and yet never come to the knowledge of the truth. They are always on their legs, but seldom, if ever, lie down.
One writer reads the two halves of the verse as food and drink:
Food for the body is not only meat. It is meat and drink. In the same way, it is not only the tender herbs that make the pasture. The "still waters" (or "waters of rest") are part of it too. Jesus Christ is the "Bread of Life." That comes first and matters most. But then His Spirit is the "Water of Life." … Christ, through His Spirit, feeds us in the pasture of the Word of God, which is "a written Christ," as another has put it.
One writer compares the two kinds of water a person can drink from:
The stream that makes the most noise and show is always where the rocks are thickest and the water is shallow. The still waters are quiet but deep. The Shepherd can calm our souls and quench our spiritual thirst with the deep things of God, far away from the noisy, shallow arguments that occupy people and too often distract the Christian.
Quiet water is the second half of the verse. One writer traces where that quiet came from:
Everlasting goodness takes us by the hand and leads us beside the still waters. These waters were not always quiet. They were not quiet in the previous psalm. But now He has stilled them for His own beloved sheep. When the waters came into His soul at the cross (Ps. 69:1) they were a mighty flood. But those water-floods have passed. Christ has stilled them; He has made them "still waters" for us.
That quiet does not come from calmer circumstances. One writer draws out what this means in a storm:
It is a greater thing to go through the storm resting in perfect confidence in Him than to have it removed for us. We can let Him lead us beside the still waters while the floods roll around us. That honours Him more than a change of circumstances to suit our lack of faith.
The rest of verse 2 is not the end of the journey. It equips the sheep for the path of verse 3:
He who in verse 2 leads us beside still waters, in verse 3 leads us in paths of righteousness. Having led us in, He leads us out. We are satisfied with His provision, refreshed by His blessing, encouraged by Himself. And so we may walk here to His praise and glory.
- Shepherd — The assurance is not a full field but a person. He gives the pastures, but the confidence rests on Him.
- Supplies — The world's pastures are dry and its waters are waters of strife. Every real meal for the soul comes from Him.
- Satisfies — He does not just feed. He makes the sheep lie down, and a hungry sheep never rests among plenty.
- Stills — The waters are quiet because the flood went over Him at the cross; the calm was bought, not found.
- Sends — He leads the fed and refreshed sheep back out into the path of righteousness. Rest is preparation, not the destination.
He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
The psalm moves from rest in green pastures to walking. Two questions follow: what does it mean that He restores, and what weight rests on the closing phrase "for his name's sake"?
The comfort here is narrowed to a person. Andrew Miller traces the recovery to the Shepherd, not to the good things He gives.
The deeper the trial, the stronger the expression of His love. And now we can say, out of the rich experience of our souls, "HE restores my soul." Not the green pastures and the still waters, pleasant and excellent as they are — no; but the Lord Himself. The path becomes more and more individual; there must be greater nearness to the Lord as our Shepherd, and more direct fellowship with Himself.
One sense of the word is recovery after wandering. The danger often comes right after the richest blessing.
We enjoy the green pastures and the still waters and then we wander… The Lord has been leading His weak and weary sheep into green pastures and beside still waters. He spoke to them of the Father's home, and of His coming to receive them to Himself. They close that time of sweet fellowship by singing a hymn. But at once the Lord warns His sheep that, on that same night, they would all fall away because of Him… Singing a hymn in His company one hour, falling away and scattered the next… But if they wander, He restores. Peter breaks down and denies the Lord, but he cannot restore himself. The Lord's prayer for Peter, the Lord's look upon Peter, the Lord's private interview with Peter, brought about his restoration.
The word is not limited to failure. Commentators also read it as reviving a tired soul for what lies ahead.
When it says "He restores my soul" it means, He invigorates my soul. He gives me spiritual tonics. They are not tonics that brighten you up for a few hours and then leave you more depressed than you were before. When the Lord invigorates us He makes us strong for what is before us.
The path takes its character from whose way it is. Sheep once had a way of their own.
It was once true that all we like sheep turned every one to his own way. Then our straying feet trod the paths of unrighteousness. But now we have heard the Shepherd's voice, and as we follow Him obediently and adoringly we are walking in the paths of righteousness, for we are taking His way, not our own.
That path leaves no room for our own confidence. Sincerity alone will not keep us on it:
The path of righteousness, in which He leads, is a "narrow way" in which there is no room for the self-confidence of the flesh, and we can only walk it with the LORD as our Shepherd before us. An Apostle found this out. With real sincerity and zeal, but with great self-confidence, he said, "Lord, I am ready to go with you, both to prison and to death."
Restoration first, then righteous paths. Being restored is not permission to sin again.
We are not restored so that we may go and sin again more lightly, but so that we may "go and sin no more." The deeper my sense of the grace of divine restoration, the deeper will be my sense of the holiness of it also… The proper path for a divinely-restored soul, is "the path of righteousness." In other words, having tasted divine grace, we walk in righteousness.
The last words give the reason behind all this care, and it is not in the sheep.
They also say what God is after: to be known.
These last words give us the principle of these tender and holy ways — a principle which guarantees their consistency absolutely. He does this "for His Name's sake." His Name is how we know Him; it shows what He is. God wants us to know Him — to know Him, so that we may trust Him; to know Him, so that we may delight in Him.
- Restored — the recovery comes from the Shepherd Himself, not from the pastures and waters He gives.
- Brought back — the Shepherd brings the wanderer home; Peter could not restore himself, and neither can we.
- Strengthened — He invigorates: strong for what lies ahead, not cheered for an hour.
- Led — righteous paths are His way instead of our own, a narrow way with no room for self-confidence.
- For His name — He restores and leads so that we may know Him, trust Him, and delight in Him.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
The road turns dark in this verse, yet the psalmist says he will not be afraid. Two questions follow: what is this valley, and why does one Person's presence take the fear out of it?
One writer reads the valley as the character of the whole journey, not as one hour at the end of life. He then names the one defence against fear.
The valley of the shadow of death is not so much passing through death, as the character of our pathway through this scene. We are passing through a judged world. Death hangs over it like a funeral cloth; and so to the believer, who enters into God's thoughts about it, it is the valley of the shadow of death. But what is his defence against fear? It is that "you are with me."
Another writer traces that shadow back to the death of Jesus:
This world is just the tomb of Jesus, and the more faithful we are to the Lord, the more the world will be to us the valley of the shadow of death. The shadow of His death lies on the fairest prospects that present themselves to us here.
The first reason for courage hides in one small word. The psalmist is not settling in the valley; he is crossing it.
First, he was only going "through" the valley. We do not fear a tunnel, because we know we will come out the other side. We are going "through," and on the other side is the bright sunshine. The valley indeed is dark, for over it is the shadow of death, but on the other side is the everlasting day — the morning without clouds.
The second reason turns on the difference between a shadow and the thing that casts it. The Shepherd met the thing itself.
Second, we must not forget it is only the "shadow" of death. When the good Shepherd took His lonely way down into the dark valley of death, it was to bear the "substance" of death in all its terror, as the wages of sin. If the believer must go through the valley, he meets only the "shadow." The Shepherd has paid the penalty of death, and the sting of death is gone.
The third reason is the contrast between His journey and ours. He had no companion; we do.
When the good Shepherd took the way of the valley there was no man with Him… But if we pass that way we have company, and such company! The One who has already been through death's dark flood travels with us. No wonder we can say, "I will fear no evil, for YOU ARE WITH ME."
The psalm's wording shifts at this very point.
When the Psalmist comes to the valley of the shadow of death, he changes the pronoun. Up to this point he has been speaking about the Lord; now he speaks to Him, showing how near the Shepherd is to the sheep. He says "You."
The fourth reason is the Shepherd's equipment. It meets the two things a frightened sheep needs:
The rod is for defence, and the staff is for support. Does the enemy make a last attack upon the believer as he enters the valley of death? The believer need not fear, because the Lord is there with His rod to defend His sheep and drive the enemy off. Is the sheep afraid because he is weak in the face of death? He need not lose heart, because the Lord is there with His staff to hold him up.
Another speaker saw a wider range of meanings in the rod, but said the difference does not matter:
The rod may speak of power, or, as is generally supposed, of correction, while the staff is for support. But whether His power, His correction, or His support, all are for our "comfort" in difficult circumstances.
One speaker pointed to the three men thrown into the furnace in Babylon:
The path of righteousness led Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego into the valley of death. But the flames that surrounded them only untied their ropes and put them in the company of the Son of God. This matches the word that says: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned" (Isaiah 43:2).
The confidence of this verse rests on a Person, not on a supply of good things.
Its subject is "The LORD is my shepherd" — the constant, unfailing care He shows… It is not what He gives that assures the heart, but Himself… Does the soul go through the valley of the shadow of death? Does death cast its dark gloom over the spirit that must go down into its shade? He is there, greater than death, to guide and sustain.
- Through — you cross the valley, you do not live in it; like a tunnel, it has sunshine on the far side.
- Shadow — the Shepherd met the substance of death as the wages of sin, so His sheep meet only the shadow.
- You — at the darkest point the psalmist stops speaking about the Lord and starts speaking to Him.
- Rod and staff — the rod drives the enemy off, the staff holds the weak sheep up; both are there for the sheep's comfort.
- Himself — the assurance is not what He gives but the Shepherd Himself, greater than death, walking the valley with you.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou hast anointed my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Surely, goodness and loving-kindness shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of Jehovah for the length of the days.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
(Of David. A Psalm.) The earth is Jehovah's, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein.
Everything on earth, and everyone living on it, belongs to the Lord. That claim is not a general remark about God. It opens a psalm about who will take the government of this world.
One writer roots this ownership in creation, and ties it to the Lord's claim over Israel's land at the jubilee:
This Psalm opens by acknowledging the Lord's title to the earth: it is His by creation. In the same way at the jubilee, a picture of this same coming kingdom, the Lord claimed His title to the land (Lev. 25:23). And once the Psalm has announced His title to the earth, the question arises: who will take back the dominion Adam forfeited? In other words, "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD?" — for "hill" is the symbol of dominion.
The verse names "the earth" and then "the world" with its inhabitants. One commentator takes the pairing as deliberate:
"The earth is the LORD's and the fullness thereof" (v. 1). The verse sets the earth apart from the world. This shows that "the earth," or "the land," refers to Israel, while "the world and those who dwell therein" is a wider sphere that takes in all nations. For all will bow to the authority of the Lord Jesus when He claims His kingdom.
If the earth is His, why does it not look like it? Several writers read the psalm as describing a coming day rather than present conditions, and they are careful not to let believers claim it too soon:
But we cannot yet say, in the language of Psalm 24, which belongs strictly to the coming reign of Christ, "The earth is the LORD's and the fullness thereof, the world and those who dwell therein." No; we are still on the ground of Psalm 23, as the sheep of Christ, in much weakness. Satan is still "the god of this world," "the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience." So there are many trials and sorrows along the way, and so we need the Lord's refreshing, restoring grace.
The declaration of ownership is not left hanging; it leads straight into a question, and then into the call for the gates to open:
"The earth is the LORD's and the fullness thereof" is the fine proclamation of Psalm 24. And then the challenge goes out, "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD?" — that is, who shall take the government of this earth and its fullness? The answer comes as another challenge, to the city gates, the seat of government: lift up your heads to the King of glory, the Lord of hosts. It is a passionate way of saying that the Lord alone shall have the government in the ages to come — the Lord in strength and victory, the Lord as Redeemer and Avenger — when man, the corrupter of the earth, has closed his career.
The Owner and the One who enters the gates turn out to be the same Person as the Shepherd of the previous psalm:
In Psalm 24 the earth itself is His. Then He who lived in faithful dependence and obedience enters the house of the Lord as King of glory, Jehovah of hosts. The lowly, dependent, obedient but perfect Christ of Psalm 23 is the Jehovah of glory who enters the house in Psalm 24.
If the fulness of the earth is His, then no one else holds anything outright. A study of Nabal, the wealthy man who refused David's request by calling the food "my bread" and "my water," draws the line sharply:
God alone has absolute right over all things. He says, "The silver is mine, and the gold is mine," and again, "The earth is the LORD's and the fullness thereof." Man is only a steward, and must give account of everything to God.
Paul quotes this line to settle a dispute about meat sold in markets that had been offered to idols. Used that way, it releases rather than restricts:
The Christian is not to go out of his way to look for difficulties. He need not ask questions for conscience' sake. Let him take the world as he finds it, and use its things with thanks to Him whose they truly are, remembering and holding to the truth that the earth and its fullness are the Lord's. And the evil uses men may make of His gifts cannot cancel His saints' right to enjoy freely whatever He has made.
- Title. The claim rests on creation: the earth and its fullness are His because He made them.
- Question. Ownership raises a question of government. Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD and take back the dominion Adam forfeited?
- Person. The answer is the King of glory, Jehovah of hosts — the same lowly Shepherd of the previous psalm.
- Reach. "The earth" and "the world" widen the claim from one land to all nations. All will bow when He takes His kingdom.
- Response. Until that day Satan is still called the god of this world. So the verse leaves us two things: nothing we hold is our own, and we may enjoy all He made with thanks.
For it was he that founded it upon seas, and established it upon floods.
Verse 2 gives the reason behind verse 1: God owns the earth because He set it in place and made it hold. Everything later in the psalm rests on this one line about seas and rivers.
The psalm does not just claim ownership. It gives the ground for that claim. One writer also points to a second ground, added later.
Its leading theme is the assertion of Jehovah's lordship over all earthly things. "The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness of it," and so on. Then comes a declaration of the title on which this rule is claimed. Here, and everywhere in the Old Testament, that title is creation: "For He has founded it upon the seas." The believer comes into the full enjoyment of this Psalm by knowing the One who has added redemption to His ancient title of creation.
Read as a whole, the psalm stacks up reasons why Christ may take the kingdom. Verse 2 gives the first. The next two are of a different kind.
The psalm very wonderfully sets out the threefold ground on which Christ takes possession of His kingdom. First, as Creator (vv. 1-2); second, in answer to His own intrinsic perfection (vv. 3-5); third, on the ground of His mighty work at the cross (v. 8).
The founding here is not about the globe hanging in space. It is about the dry land God lifted out of the water. One writer traces what has happened to that dividing line ever since.
We see, of course, that the psalmist is speaking of that dry land which on the third day God separated from the waters and called "earth" — not of the earth as a globe. Clearly this foundation is a separation. Ever since, the water has been working at this earth that God established. It seeks, as it were, to overthrow it, but has not been able. This struggle is a fitting picture of what happens to His people. For centuries the conflict has raged against them, to break down the barrier of God's purpose with which He has fenced them round — and could not. There is real meaning, then, in the fact that here Jehovah has founded the earth upon the seas and established it over the floods. The reckless will of man has met its rebuke from God, and what is to be fruitful for Him is rescued from the destroyer. What could be more natural than this as the introduction to the question that follows? Rampant evil has been put down.
Water is the last thing anyone would build on. That is the point. This verse shows a stability that human reasoning cannot explain, and one writer sees the same surprise in the day when the Lord Jesus is glorified.
Naturally, the sea is not a stable base for building anything. But just as God "hangs the earth on nothing" (Job 26:7), He is able to do many things we consider impossible. In the day of the glory of the Lord Jesus there will be such a change in people's relationships that the basis of them will look to us absolutely miraculous. So God sees fit to overturn all man's natural thoughts, and to show both His amazing power and His matchless grace.
Present appearances contradict the verse. Someone else seems to run the world. Yet God has never dropped that claim. He keeps pressing it, even against the one who holds the world now.
But the Lord's title to the earth of course stands unchallengeable. "The cattle on a thousand hills" are His, and "the earth, and the fullness of it." So in one way or another He has been making continual claim to it in the face of the usurper. In this way He shows His purpose of taking it into full possession again at the last. The first promise signalled this so clearly that the whole creation hopes and waits for it (Gen. 3:15; Rom. 8:19-21). And so in the day of the kingdom of our God, the hopes of creation will not be put to shame.
Because the earth is His by making, ordinary things — food, work, daily provision — belong to Him and may be enjoyed with thanks rather than suspicion. The line is quoted in the New Testament for exactly this everyday purpose.
The liberty of Christ is to be freely exercised in ordinary life. The Christian is not to go out of his way to look for difficulties. Let him take the world as he finds it, and use its things in thankfulness to Him whose they really are, remembering and maintaining that the earth and its fullness are the Lord's.
Commentators differ in emphasis: some read the founding chiefly as God's creation title to the coming kingdom, while others draw out the picture of land held firm against the sea.
- Founded — The claim of verse 1 rests on the act of verse 2: God owns the earth because He set it in place.
- Separated — The "foundation" is dry land divided from the water. The sea has pushed against it ever since and never won.
- Unlikely — Nothing steady can be built on water. That is the point: God holds firm what people expect to sink.
- Contested — A usurper holds the world now, but God keeps pressing His claim and will take full possession.
- Threefold — Creation is only Christ's first title to the kingdom. His own perfection and His work at the cross follow.
Who shall ascend into the mount of Jehovah? and who shall stand in his holy place?
Psalm 24 opens by declaring that the whole earth is God's. Then it turns to people: verse 3 asks twice over who may come up to where He is.
Verse 3 is not a change of subject. The earth belongs to the Lord, so the next question is who will govern it for Him:
"The earth is the LORD's and the fullness thereof" is the proclamation of Psalm 24. Then the challenge goes out: "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD?" That is, who will take the government of this earth and all that fills it? The answer comes by another challenge to the city gates: lift up your heads to the Lord of hosts, the King of glory.
The verse names two places, and they are not the same. One writer ties the question to Christ's own perfection:
The kingdom of Christ will be the answer, not only to His rights as Creator, but to the perfect life He lived. The hill — Mount Zion — speaks of the reign of righteousness established in grace. The holy place speaks of the temple, and access to God in worship. Who then is morally fit to reign over men from Zion, and who can approach God in His temple?
Verse 4 answers with two marks: clean hands and a pure heart. One writer explains what each one means, and which one leads:
In Psalm 24 we read, "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in His holy place?" The condition is that he must have "clean hands" — that points to righteousness — and "a pure heart" — that points to holiness. The pure heart governs the movements of the clean hands.
Another writer links the question to the evil God has already put down, and to what daily life shows:
Rampant evil has been put down: "who" now "shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in His holy place?" The answer is clear: it is the one who has clean hands and a pure heart. His daily life is no religious act, but the real index of the man himself.
The challenge reaches further than hands and heart:
The demand which this challenge makes is very sweeping. It reviews hands, heart, soul and mouth, and it demands perfect holiness. Of all the millions who have walked the earth, only One has ever shown holiness like this. There has been this One, and so He enjoys what we may call the freedom of the house. Its doors are flung wide open before Him, and He is free to enter. Not only does He enter, He enters in a blaze of glory, and as the leader of a host of people joined to Him.
The psalm does not end with one man alone. The same writer asks where the others get their fitness:
So, after all, there are to be others who answer the challenge and finally stand in His holy place. There is to be this "generation of those who seek Him" (verse 6), and holiness marks them too. They have become what He always was in His own perfection. Their clean hands and pure heart are the result of a work of God, both for them and in them.
One writer marks out where this hill is, and what the climb does not mean:
Verse 3 asks, "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD?" This is not about entering heaven. It is about entering the earthly blessing of the Kingdom of the Lord Jesus. The answer draws a sharp line. "He who has clean hands and a pure heart" means the hands must be free from evil works, and the heart free from evil thoughts.
- Ownership asks. Because the earth belongs to the Lord, the psalm asks at once who may come up to His hill. It is a question about who will govern it and who may draw near.
- Two places. The hill points to a reign of righteousness from Zion; the holy place points to the temple and access to God in worship.
- One standard. Clean hands mean righteousness, a pure heart means holiness — and the heart is what steers the hands.
- One qualifier. The demand covers hands, heart, soul and mouth. Only One has ever met it. The doors open wide, and He enters as leader of a company joined to Him.
- Many follow. A whole generation who seek God stand there too. Their clean hands and pure heart come from God's work for them and in them.
He that hath blameless hands and a pure heart; who lifteth not up his soul unto vanity, nor sweareth deceitfully
Psalm 24 opens by declaring that the earth and everything in it belongs to the Lord. It then asks who may climb His hill and stand in His holy place. Verse 4 is the answer. It sets out four tests: hands, heart, soul and speech.
The question names two places, and each stands for something different.
The hill — Mount Zion — speaks of the reign of righteousness established in grace. The holy place speaks of the temple, and access to God in worship. Who then is morally fit to reign over men from Zion, and who can approach God in His temple?
Many readers take this psalm as a test for getting into heaven. One writer answers that directly:
This is not a question of entering heaven, but of entering the earthly blessing of the Kingdom of the Lord Jesus.
Another writer looks ahead to that day:
after_note: none
The hill of the Lord and His holy place will stand high among people. So the question comes: who will be fit to climb the one, or to stand in the other? Verses 4 and 5 give the answer. The fitness required is moral fitness. Those holy places are kept for the holy — those whose hands are clean, whose hearts are pure, who have turned away from all vanity and deceit.
The two words are not a repetition. They point to different things, and they stand in a fixed order.
The requirement is that he must have "clean hands" — that points to righteousness; and "a pure heart" — that points to holiness. The pure heart governs the movements of the clean hands.
That order is what rules out mere show. Hands can be scrubbed in public; the heart cannot.
It is not enough to cleanse the hands; we must also judge the evil of our hearts. The Pharisees could make a great show of outward cleansing by washing their hands, but the Lord has to say, "Their heart is far from Me" (Mark 7:3, 6). The one who ascends the hill of the Lord and stands in His holy place must have "clean hands and a pure heart" (Ps. 24:4). The heart is where the Christian's affections live. They need to be cleared of everything that does not fit God's will.
The third test reaches the inner life. The ESV says "who does not lift up his soul to what is false." Older translations say "unto vanity." One writer traces that emptiness back to its root:
The answer is clear. It is the one who has clean hands and a pure heart. His daily life is not an outward show of religion, but the true index of the man himself. He "has not lifted up his soul to vanity." Pride, more than anything else, ties in with that emptiness and ends in it. As one has said, "the moment we step out of our nothingness, we step into it." Nor has he "sworn deceitfully."
The fourth test concerns the tongue. All four tests assume an audience who cannot be fooled.
"He who has clean hands and a pure heart" means the hands must be free from evil works and the heart untouched by evil thoughts. Of course, only God can see the true state of the heart, though it always shows itself in some way. In the same way, idol worship may be covered up for a time, but it cannot stay covered. Swearing deceitfully may sound convincing to people, but God knows at once that it is false, and the deceit will come out in the end.
Set the four tests against real human lives and only one name survives.
The demand which this challenge makes is very sweeping. Hands, hearts, soul and mouth are all brought under review, and perfection of holiness is required. Of all the countless people who have walked the earth, only One has ever shown holiness like this. There has been this One, and as a consequence He enjoys what we may call the freedom of the house. Its doors are flung wide open before Him, and He has full liberty of entrance.
The psalm does not end with one qualified Man standing alone. Others do enter, and one writer says where their fitness comes from:
There is to be this "generation of those who seek Him" (verse 6), and they too are marked by holiness. They have become what He always was in His own perfection. Their clean hands and pure heart are the result of God's work, both for them and in them.
And the entry is not restricted by birth. What is examined at the door is the person, not the pedigree:
And though those more immediately concerned may be of the fountain of Israel, still the door is open to everyone coming up with clean hands and a pure heart. So it is not principles on which the crowd of ungodly is avoided, but the personal state of the person who comes — not the character described, but the state.
- Four tests. Hands, heart, soul and mouth all come under review, and the standard is perfect holiness.
- Heart first. Clean hands point to righteousness, a pure heart to holiness. The pure heart governs what the hands do.
- No hiding. Covered idolatry and convincing lies work on people for a while; God knows at once, and the deceit comes out.
- One qualifies. Of all who have walked the earth, only One met this, and the doors of the house are flung open to Him.
- Others follow. Those who enter have become what He always was. Their clean hands and pure heart are God's work, both for them and in them.
He shall receive blessing from Jehovah, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.
Verses 3–4 ask who may climb God's hill and stand in His holy place. Verse 5 gives the answer, and the answer is a gift, not a wage. Both halves of it come down from God's side: blessing, and righteousness.
The verse closes a short exchange about fitness. What qualifies a person for that hill is not rank or background but character:
When the millennial day comes at last, the earth will plainly be the Lord's, and the whole world will be under Him. God will lift His hill and His holy place high among men. Who then will be fit to climb the one, or to stand in the other? Verses 4 and 5 give the answer. The fitness required is moral fitness. God keeps those holy places for the holy — those whose hands are clean, whose hearts are pure, who have turned away from all emptiness and deceit.
The verse names two things, and neither is produced by the person who receives them:
"He will receive blessing from the LORD and righteousness from the God of his salvation" (v. 5). Blessing is a general term for what brings happiness to the heart. This comes from God, and so does righteousness, for we have no righteousness of our own. God gives it on the basis of faith, for He counts faith as righteousness (Rom. 4:5), and faith itself is "the gift of God" (Eph. 2:8).
The word receive is the hinge of the verse. One writer works out what must happen before God can hand righteousness to anyone at all:
The recompense follows: blessing and righteousness from God. No man can find absolute righteousness in himself, so God cannot award it to him. Righteousness that is merely comparative will not do for the presence of God. For this, two things must come in. We have already seen one of them; the Old Testament does not clearly reveal the other at all. One is the work for men — atonement. The other is the work in men: the gift of a divine nature. That nature is perfect in itself, though many things in this life keep it from showing perfectly. In both these ways the righteousness is indeed a gift received from the God of our salvation. From first to last all is of grace, and so of God.
The description in verse 4 is exacting enough that commentators look past David to Christ. The promise of verse 5 is then read first as His recompense, and only then as ours:
Will all this perfection receive no answer, no recompense in the coming glory? Surely it will. Verse 5 says of such a person that he will receive blessing and righteousness from God. But if Christ alone answers perfectly to these requirements, there is still a generation that has walked in godly fear and that seeks God. They too will be associated with Christ in His reign.
Read of Christ, "He shall receive righteousness" points to something already accomplished — His public vindication after the injustice done to Him:
Christ was treated with shameful unrighteousness in the world. But Psalm 24:5 had already said, "He will receive … righteousness from the God of His salvation." He has received righteous treatment in heaven. God has set Him in a place that is His by right. The Holy Spirit's presence here is a demonstration of this.
The psalm's setting is Israel's, yet the promise of verse 5 is not fenced off. Note who is included:
When the earth is Jehovah's (Ps. 24), who shall ascend His hill, or stand in His holy place? Here, notice, the door has become open to all. Only Jacob has the place of acceptance and nearness to Jehovah. But blessing and acceptance in favour from God, who is their salvation, belong to everyone who has purified himself to seek Him — the God who has placed His blessing in Jacob. The psalm describes the character of such people, and the Gentiles who have that character have access to Jehovah's holy hill. Christ Himself enters there in triumph as Jehovah.
- Standard. The hill and the holy place are for the holy; what qualifies a person is moral fitness, not privilege.
- Gift. No one has righteousness of his own, and being better than others will not do for God's presence. So righteousness must be received — God's work for us in atonement, and His work in us in giving a new nature.
- Giver. Blessing and righteousness have one source. God gives the happiness that fills the heart, and He gives the righteousness no one owns by nature.
- Pattern. Christ alone answers the description of verse 4. He has already received righteous treatment in heaven, in the place that is His by right.
- Reach. The door stands open. A generation that seeks God — Gentiles, the nations outside Israel, among them — shares Christ's blessing and His reign.
This is the generation of them that seek unto him, that seek thy face, O Jacob. Selah.
Psalm 24 has just asked who may climb God's hill and stand in His holy place. Verse 6 turns from that question to the people who answer it, and gives them a name.
The word "generation" here is not counting years or measuring a lifespan. It marks out a type, and the Psalms use it that way again and again.
A dictionary gives one meaning of genea as "Men of like quality and disposition, though of neither one place nor age." This is fully borne out: "You shall keep them, O Jehovah, You shall preserve them from this generation forever" (Ps. 12:7). Here "generation" is not limited to the people alive at any one time on the earth. Again, "God is in the generation of the righteous" (Ps. 14:5). "The generation of those who seek You" (Ps. 24:6)... In these verses a certain moral character or kind of persons is implied.
Verses 3 and 4 set a standard so high that it seems no one could meet it. Verse 6 says someone does — and explains where their fitness came from.
So, after all, there are to be others who answer the challenge and finally stand in His holy place. There is to be this "generation of those who seek Him," (verse 6) who also are characterized by holiness. They have become what He always was in intrinsic perfection. Their clean hands and pure heart are the result of a work of God, both for them and in them.
Commentators read the psalm as looking ahead to the day when the Lord reigns on earth. They see this seeking company as drawn from more than one nation.
The psalm's questions about who may ascend God's hill have nothing to do with the church. At that time the church is with the Lord as His glorified body. When He comes back to earth to dwell in Zion, those who enter His presence and share the blessings of the kingdom will be marked by practical righteousness, which is the fruit of faith. This company includes Israelites who believed during the tribulation and turned to the Lord. It also includes Gentiles who learn righteousness when the judgments of the Lord are in the earth (Isaiah 26:9).
The ESV reads "the face of the God of Jacob." Older translations read "your face, O Jacob." Commentators differ over which is right. One writer keeps the older reading and finds a clear sense in it.
"Jacob" can hardly be taken as the name of those who seek their God. Its place in the sentence is awkward for that meaning, and the name itself seems unsuited to the connection. Read in the simplest way, the verse is perfectly clear. God dwells in Jacob, and will do so in the coming days the psalm speaks of. So those who seek His dwelling-place must seek the people among whom He dwells.
On that reading, the nations turn toward Israel because of the God who lives there.
They will acknowledge the special place of favour and supremacy given to Israel, and will render respectful homage. They will seek Jacob's face, as Psalm 24:6 tells us, because God is in Jacob's land.
Of all the names available, the psalm reaches for the one attached to a man who had nothing to plead for himself.
The name Jacob is to remind us that Israel has come from Jacob, who fully admits himself to be unworthy of the least of God's mercies (Gen. 32:9-10), but was blessed by the pure grace of God. Whatever Jacob's failures were, he still did seek the face of God.
This character belongs to those who will stand in the holy place. It also marks anyone who wants nearness to God today.
They will enter as a company identified with the King of glory. He has a perfect and absolute title to the home of Jehovah's holiness, both because of what He is and because of what He has done. The day of manifested glory is approaching, and it is going to be like this with us then. So let us make sure that holiness marks us now. "Without holiness no man shall see the Lord" is a saying capable of a double application; a present as well as a future. We may be perfectly clear in our doctrine... yet if we do not pursue holiness we shall be sadly poor and weak in drawing near to God.
- Generation — not an age group but a kind of person. The Psalms speak the same way of "the generation of the righteous."
- Grace — their clean hands and pure heart are God's work in them. The name Jacob recalls a man who called himself unworthy of the least mercy and was blessed anyway.
- Reach — the company is wider than one nation. Commentators see believing Israel joined by Gentiles who learn righteousness.
- Dispute — translations divide over "your face, O Jacob" and "the God of Jacob." One reading makes Jacob the people sought; the other makes God the One sought.
- Result — those who seek Him enter with the King of glory. So holiness is a pursuit for now, not only a description of later.
Lift up your heads, ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in.
Psalm 24 claims the whole earth for the Lord, then asks who may climb His holy hill. At verse 7 the song becomes a shout at a city's gates: which gates are these, and who is the King they must open for?
The psalm belongs to a set of three, and the set moves in a clear direction.
In Psalm 22 we see the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. In Psalm 23 we find the Shepherd, in His tender care, feeding and keeping the sheep and lambs of His flock, so dearly bought and so dearly loved. In Psalm 24 we gaze upon the "King of glory," "the Lord strong and mighty in battle," the "Lord of hosts," coming into His kingdom. The "everlasting doors" (of Zion on earth, I think) are told to lift themselves up to receive Him. It is like Revelation 19, where the double doors of heaven are thrown open. There the "King of kings" and "Lord of lords," on His white horse of victory, sets out from heaven on His triumphant journey to earth.
These gates were not standing open. They had closed against the King Himself.
Here we see the Lord Himself enter His temple, to rest at last, after the long strife is over. He is the glorious King, so long refused or ignored, now clothed with irresistible might. The challenge goes out to the gates that had shut Him out. They must lift up their heads and let in a greater Visitor than they had ever known before. Yet back comes the question, as if those who asked it still did not know His majesty: "Who is this King of glory?" ... No doubt the words may look back to David's capture of Zion in the power of God. But that was a picture, and the psalm looks on to the day it comes true... It is not easy for the gates to lift themselves so high. But it must be: His grace will take no refusal.
The ESV calls them "ancient doors." Older translations read "everlasting doors," and that second word carries the point here.
For centuries men have closed the gates of their hearts to the true King of Israel, and the nation Israel has been especially guilty here. What a change when the Lord Jesus comes to claim His own rights! Jerusalem will then open its gates wide to receive Israel's true Messiah. And the psalm calls those doors "everlasting." Why? Because He will take His place of supreme authority for ever. Nothing can ever again challenge this King of God's appointment.
The psalm asks who this King is, and answers with a name.
The Psalms teach His deity clearly and plainly. Psalm 24:7-10 calls "the King of glory" by the name "the Lord of hosts." But this King of glory is also "mighty in battle." He is the same Victor we see in Psalm 45 with a sword strapped to His thigh. And He is none other than "the Word of God" (Revelation 19:11-16).
Commentators differ over which doorway the psalm means. Some read it of Christ's return to reign on earth. Others read it of His entry into heaven after the cross. One writer allows both, but not equally.
Many take this passage as an application rather than an interpretation, and make it refer to our Lord's entry into heavenly glory. That is surely allowed. Still, the point here is the public glory that is yet to come. As far as this world goes, it is not enough for Him to be glorified in private. He must have public glory too. And He must have that full glory in the very place where He was publicly shamed.
On the heavenly reading, the welcome rests on work already finished.
Wherever He enters, the gates open wide to receive the "King of glory." This is true of His earthly city, and true of the heavenly Jerusalem that the earthly one pictured. He enters the glory by His own blood. And the welcome He is given there, as King of glory, rests on this: He has accomplished an eternal redemption and has glorified God.
Jerusalem shut Him out. Jerusalem will welcome Him.
What a welcome awaits Him inside those gates, outside of which they once put Him to death. With what joy and triumph will He enter, where He was once led out in sorrow and shame. He will be her glory then.
- Shut — these gates had shut Him out, and their question shows they still do not know His majesty.
- Suffering first — Psalm 22 gives the Lamb, Psalm 23 the Shepherd, Psalm 24 the King coming into His kingdom. The crown follows the cross.
- Strong — the King of glory is the Lord of hosts, mighty in battle. The psalm's answer is His deity, not just His royalty.
- Settled — older translations call the doors everlasting, because no one can ever challenge the King who enters them.
- Same city — He is welcomed in the very place where He was shamed, and He enters on the ground of a redemption already accomplished.
Who is this King of glory? Jehovah strong and mighty, Jehovah mighty in battle.
The psalm has just asked who may climb God's hill and stand in His holy place. Now a greater question rings out at the city gates: who is the King coming through them? The answer is not a description. It is a name.
The question is asked twice, and both times the answer is the divine name. Where the ESV has "the LORD," the writers below use the older rendering "Jehovah." One writer says the question is asked so that no one can miss who this King is.
"Who is this King of glory?" The answer is clear and decisive: the King, the Lord Jesus, is Jehovah strong and mighty, Jehovah mighty in battle. The question is asked so that people will be challenged to recognise that the Lord Jesus is no less than Jehovah. In fact, the answer is given a second time, with the same question asked again (vv. 9-10), because the matter is one of the greatest importance.
This same figure is traced elsewhere in Scripture. One commentator links Him to the rider in Revelation:
In the Psalms we have His deity clearly and distinctly taught. "The King of glory" in Ps. 24:7-10 is declared to be "Jehovah of hosts." But this King of glory is also "mighty in battle," and is identical with the Victor who is seen in Ps. 45 with sword girded on His thigh, and He is none other than "the Word of God" (Rev. 19:11-16).
Which battle makes Him "mighty in battle"? One reading points backwards, to a victory already fought and finished.
The closing verses of the psalm celebrate the entry of Christ, as the King of glory, into the sanctuary among His people. The answer tells us of the glory of His person and His work. For His people He gained the great victory at the cross, over every enemy. So we have not only His claims to the kingdom as Creator, and not only His rights as the perfect Man, but also the righteous ground of all blessing for His people: the mighty victory of the cross.
Others look forward. On this reading He comes to the gates straight from a victory still future, and the cross won a victory of another sort.
First, He is "Jehovah strong and mighty, Jehovah mighty in battle." He will come fresh from His victories — the victories foretold in Psalm 2. There He will mock the kings of the earth and their rulers. There He will break the rebellious nations with a rod of iron and dash them in pieces like a clay pot. But the One who will ride in triumph then once suffered and was forsaken, so that He might win a victory of another sort at the cross.
The gates in the psalm had been shut against Him. When they are told to open, the reply that comes back is another question.
Now we see Jehovah Himself enter His temple and rest at last, the long struggle over. He is the glorious King, refused or ignored for so long, and now clothed with unstoppable might. The gates that had been shut against Him are challenged. They are told to lift up their heads and let in a greater Visitor than they had ever known. But the answer comes back as a question, as if those who asked it still did not grasp His majesty: "Who is this King of glory?"
Many have taken these verses to be about Christ entering heavenly glory after the cross. Commentators differ on whether that is the psalm's own meaning or a fair use of it. One writer allows the use, but says the psalm's own point is public glory:
Many take this passage as an application rather than an interpretation, making it refer to our Lord entering heavenly glory. That is quite allowable, no doubt… Still, the point here is the public glory that is yet to come. It is not enough for Him to be glorified in private, as far as this world is concerned. He must have public glory too.
Another writer names the ground of His welcome:
Wherever He enters, the gates open wide to receive the "King of glory" — whether His earthly city, or the heavenly Jerusalem that the earthly one pictured. He enters the glory by His own blood. His welcome there as King of glory rests on His having accomplished an eternal redemption and having glorified God.
This verse sits inside a group of three psalms:
In Psalm 22 we see the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. In Psalm 23 we find the Shepherd, tenderly feeding and caring for the sheep and lambs of His flock… In Psalm 24 we gaze on the "King of glory," "the Lord strong and mighty in battle," the "Lord of hosts," coming into His kingdom… His head circled with "many crowns" — God's answer to that "crown of thorns."
- Named. The question gets a name, not a description. The King of glory is Jehovah — no less. The psalm says it twice so no one can miss it.
- Fought. "Mighty in battle" rests on real conflict — the great victory gained for His people at the cross, over every enemy.
- Ahead. One day that might will be public. He comes fresh from the victories foretold in Psalm 2, breaking the rebellious nations.
- Opened. The gates once shut against Him are told to lift their heads and let in a greater Visitor than they had ever known.
- Grounded. Earthly city or heavenly, His welcome rests on redemption already accomplished. Psalm 22's Lamb and Psalm 23's Shepherd are Psalm 24's King: the crown of thorns answered by many crowns.
Lift up your heads, ye gates; yea, lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in.
Verse 7 gave this same command, and here it returns almost word for word. Twice the gates hear the call to open. Twice the same question comes back: "Who is this King of glory?" The next verse gives the name — Jehovah of hosts.
One writer sees wonder behind the delay, and a King who will not be refused.
The appeal is made again. But from the gates the question comes yet again: "Who is He, this King of glory?" Long ago, in the presence of the risen Lord, the disciples did not believe for joy, and wondered. So here too the wonderful truth is too great to be taken in at once. It is not easy for the gates to lift themselves so high. But it must be: His grace will take no denial. With the magnificence of His universal title He will put down all resistance to His will.
Another writer sees the repeated question as a challenge to the reader.
The reason for asking the question is that men might be challenged to recognise that the Lord Jesus is no less than Jehovah. In fact, the psalm makes the declaration a second time and asks the same question again (vv. 9-10). The matter is of the greatest importance. If people will not face this, they are guilty of insulting Jehovah. Such unbelief must end in eternal destruction.
One writer explains how far the title "Jehovah of hosts" reaches.
Scripture reveals that there is a mighty heavenly host, and principalities and powers in the unseen world. God is the God of them all, as well as God of all the elements of nature, which He has often used to punish His enemies... In Psalm 24:10 the Lord Jesus is shown to be "Jehovah of hosts: He is the King of glory."
This King is a fighter as well as a sovereign, and that links Him to other pictures of Him in Scripture.
This King of glory is also "mighty in battle." He is the same Victor seen in Psalm 45 with a sword strapped to His thigh. He is none other than "the Word of God" (Revelation 19:11-16).
One writer takes the gates as those of Jerusalem, and of hearts long closed to the King. Where the ESV reads "ancient doors," older translations read "everlasting doors," and he builds on that word.
For centuries the hearts of men have stayed closed to the true King of Israel. Israel as a nation has been especially guilty in this. What a change will take place when the Lord Jesus comes to claim His own rights! At that time the gates of Jerusalem will open wide to receive Israel's true Messiah. And the doors are called "everlasting." Why? Because He will take His place of supreme authority for eternity. Nothing can ever again challenge this King of God's appointment.
The city that opens to Him is the same city that once drove Him out.
What a welcome awaits Him inside those gates, outside of which they once put Him to death. With what joy and triumph will He enter the place where He was once led out in sorrow and shame.
Commentators differ over whether this entry has already happened. Some read it strictly of the future.
Here we have the glorious appearing and entry of the King into His House and dwelling place. It is a most magnificent description. It has nothing to do with the ascension of our Lord. This is His glorious return and entry into the earthly Zion, to fill it once more with His visible glory.
Others allow the wider use while holding the same primary sense.
Many take the passage as an application rather than an interpretation. They make it refer to our Lord's entrance into heavenly glory. This is quite permissible, no doubt. He has been glorified "at once" in the presence of God, in keeping with His own words in John 13:32. Still, the public glory that is yet to come is strictly the point here... And He must be abundantly glorified in the very scene of His public dishonour.
His entry rests on work already finished, not only on who He is.
Wherever He enters, the gates open wide to receive the "King of glory." This holds for His earthly city, and for the heavenly Jerusalem which the earthly city pictured. He enters by His own blood into the glory. The welcome He is given there, as King of glory, rests on this: He has accomplished an eternal redemption, and He has glorified God.
- Repeated — The call comes twice because the truth is too great to take in at once. The gates hesitate, but "His grace will take no denial."
- Named — The second answer removes all doubt: the King is Jehovah of hosts, God of angels, armies and all created power.
- Armed — He is mighty in battle, the same Victor of Psalm 45 and Revelation 19, so no resistance can hold the gates shut.
- Everlasting — The doors are called everlasting because His authority is settled for eternity. Nothing can challenge this King again.
- Purchased — He enters by His own blood, into the very scene of His shame. The welcome rests on an eternal redemption already accomplished.
Who is he, this King of glory? Jehovah of hosts, he is the King of glory. Selah.
The psalm ends by asking a second time who this King of glory is. This time the answer is a name, not a description. The name settles who He is and what He is coming to do.
Older translations print this name as "Jehovah of hosts," where the ESV has "the LORD of hosts." The name has a history in Scripture, and a reach wider than armies.
We do not meet with this name until 1 Samuel 1:3. It came in with prophetic testimony, faith laying hold of Jehovah's glory when Israel had corrupted themselves and were in a weak and low estate. Scripture reveals that there is a mighty heavenly host, and principalities and powers in the unseen world. God is the God of them all, as well as God of all the elements of nature... In Psalm 24:10 the Lord Jesus is shown to be "Jehovah of hosts: He is the King of glory," compare Ephesians 1:20-21; Colossians 1:16. The same title occurs in the New Testament as the LORD OF SABAOTH, Romans 9:29 (in a quotation from Isaiah 1:9), and James 5:4.
The Hebrew word behind "hosts" is used broadly across the psalms, of armies, of angels, and of sun, moon and stars.
The answer names Him. The One at the gates is God Himself.
The Psalms teach His deity clearly. Psalm 24:7-10 declares "the King of glory" to be "Jehovah of hosts." But this King of glory is also "mighty in battle." He is the same Victor we see in Psalm 45 with a sword strapped to His thigh, and He is none other than "the Word of God" (Revelation 19:11-16).
One writer takes the repeated question as a challenge to people who avoid answering it.
The question is asked to challenge people to recognise that the Lord Jesus is no less than Jehovah. In fact the psalm declares it a second time, and asks the same question again (vv. 9-10), because the matter is of the greatest significance.
Another writer hears wonder in the repeated question, not resistance.
Long ago the disciples saw the risen Lord, and their joy was so great that they could not believe it, and they wondered. It is the same here. The wonderful truth is too great to be taken in at once, and it is not easy for the gates to lift themselves so high. But it must be... Listen: "Jehovah of hosts! HE is the King of glory."
A commander of hosts brings others with Him.
He is the Lord of hosts, for others are joined with Him. Revelation 19:14 shows us that He will come out as a Warrior to judgment. The armies of heaven will follow Him — His heavenly saints, who are to wear His likeness and share His triumphs. In them, and in others too, He will see the fruit of the suffering of His soul.
One writer traces the same Person from the cross, through the wilderness, into the kingdom.
He is the One strong and mighty who maintained the holiness of God and won a great victory for His people at the cross. As the Shepherd, He led His people through the wilderness journey. As the King of glory and the Lord of hosts, He will bring His people into the millennial blessing of the kingdom.
Commentators differ on the scene. Some hold the psalm speaks only of Christ's future entry into Jerusalem.
Here we see the King appear in glory and enter His house and dwelling place... It has nothing to do with the ascension of our Lord. It is His glorious return and entry into the earthly Zion, to fill it once more with His visible glory... He who was forsaken on the cross is now crowned with many crowns.
Others allow a wider use of the words. The strict sense, they hold, is still the public glory on earth.
Many take the passage as an application rather than an interpretation, and read it of our Lord entering heavenly glory. That is quite fair, no doubt, for God has glorified Him at once in His own presence, as the Lord said in John 13:32. Still, the point here is the public glory that is yet to come... And especially, He must be richly glorified in the very place of His public dishonour.
For one writer, the call to the gates is a question about who will govern the earth.
The challenge goes out: "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD?" That is, who shall take the government of this earth and all that fills it? The answer comes as another challenge to the city gates, calling them to lift up their heads to the Lord of hosts, the King of glory. It is a fervent way of saying that the Lord, in strength and victory, the Lord as Redeemer and Avenger, will take the government.
- Named. The answer is a name, not a description: Jehovah of hosts. The New Testament carries the same title over as Lord of Sabaoth.
- Divine. The name settles who He is. The King of glory is God Himself, the Victor of Psalm 45 and the Word of God in Revelation 19.
- Won. The glory rests on a battle already fought: the One crowned with many crowns is the One who was forsaken on the cross.
- Shared. He does not come alone. The armies of heaven follow Him, and His saints wear His likeness and share His triumph.
- Governing. When the gates open, rule changes hands. The earth's government passes to the Redeemer, in the very place where men dishonoured Him.
([A Psalm] of David.) Unto thee, Jehovah, do I lift up my soul.
Psalm 25 opens with a man handing his whole inner life over to God while enemies press around him. His prayer moves fast from trust to the confession of sin. The first line sets the tone: what does it mean to lift up your soul to the Lord?
One commentator reads Psalm 25 as the place where the remnant — the faithful few in Israel — lay their whole case before God, sin included.
Christ has been introduced — not yet in glory, but joining Himself with the remnant and suffering even to death for them. So their whole case can be set out beforehand, as prophecy. Here for the first time we meet the confession of sins... The first word characterises them: "To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul." The godly man expresses his trust in his God, and prays that he may not be ashamed.
One writer takes the opening verses as one movement of the heart. Each phrase adds what the one before it did not.
The psalm opens with the expression of subjection to the Lord: "To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul." Then comes confidence in the Lord: "I trust in you." Then dependence upon the Lord: "wait on you." There is the assurance that such people will never be ashamed.
The psalm calls God by His covenant name — Jehovah in older translations, LORD in the ESV. One writer says what that name means for a weak heart, and why the distance from God makes the soul reach up.
Jehovah is the God of redemption and of covenant — the living, unchanging God whom weak, changeable man so needs to have with him. Faith anchors itself in this stronghold... He is so far above, and to Him the soul lifts itself up. It feels the distance enough to make it yearn, and yet it yearns while it knows — and because it knows — the One it yearns for. Enemies are in view too, but faith says and sings that it will not be put to shame.
This prayer does not come from a quiet life. It comes from someone hemmed in. Lifting the soul up is the way through the trouble, not a way around it.
The soul lifts itself up to Jehovah in its difficulties. This is the true secret of overcoming them, and of having peace while still in them. The true heart has no other refuge. Anything else distracts it from this.
Another writer names the alternative. Handle opposition yourself, and you produce the very shame the psalm prays to escape.
At times, when facing opposition and insults, we trust in ourselves and our own efforts. We try to avenge the insults and crush those who oppose us. We only find that we expose ourselves to shame and to the triumph of our enemies. But, says the psalmist, "Let none who wait for you be put to shame."
One writer ties the greatness of God to the lifting itself, and then to a real danger: being ashamed of Him.
The Lord of hosts, the King of glory, is so high in His exalted majesty. So the psalmist must "lift up" his soul in confidence (v. 1)... And Satan tries hard to make us ashamed of Him. How important, then, that we should pray He would keep us from being ashamed.
One commentator hears a spirit of obedience in the first verse, and shows where it comes from and how it grows.
In the first verse here the spirit of obedience is expressed, the necessary effect of divine grace, and of any true and living faith in the soul... The spirit of obedience will grow and develop in exact proportion as God Himself is known, and as the freed heart rests and delights itself in Him.
Psalm 25 runs through the Hebrew alphabet, a letter to each verse. One commentator finds a lesson in what is missing.
The psalm is alphabetic, but two letters are left out... Meanwhile the imperfect alphabet may remind us of the imperfection that clings to every human grasp of divine grace. That imperfection shows itself in the psalm itself. And a defective life will be the sure companion of this defective grasp.
- Lift — you raise your soul to God in subjection, confidence and dependence. The distance you feel from Him is what makes the heart yearn.
- Trust — trouble is the setting, not the obstacle. Lifting the soul to God is the secret of overcoming trouble and of having peace inside it.
- Refuse — take your own case in hand to crush opponents, and you invite the very shame this prayer asks to escape.
- Obey — lifting the soul carries a spirit of obedience with it, and that obedience grows as we come to know God Himself.
- Unashamed — this is the promised end: none who wait for Him are put to shame. The psalm's broken alphabet admits how partial our grasp of that grace still is.
My God, I confide in thee; let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.
The psalm opens with a soul lifted up to God, and verse 2 turns that look into a plea: keep me from shame, keep my enemies from winning. Can someone who trusts God ever end up humiliated?
Three movements of the heart open this psalm. Each one has its own phrase.
The psalm opens with subjection to the Lord — "To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul." Then comes confidence in the Lord — "in you I trust." Then dependence on the Lord — "wait for you." And there is the assurance that such a person will never be ashamed.
The psalmist is in trouble, and his first move is not a plan but a Person. One writer calls this the secret of overcoming any difficulty. He adds that real faith does not keep the prayer to itself.
The soul is lifted up to Jehovah in its difficulties — the true secret of overcoming them, and of having peace in the middle of them. The true heart has no other refuge. Anything else distracts it from this. In them it says, my God — it can now say that through Christ, and trust in God. It looks not to be ashamed, and not to have its enemies triumph over it. This in difficulties is the first desire of faith. But when faith is real it cannot keep to itself. Grace links it with God's goodness, felt in this very hope, but then with all those who wait on Jehovah.
Asking God not to let enemies triumph is not the same as fighting them. Handling the insult ourselves brings on the very shame this verse prays against.
The believer overcomes all his difficulties by complete trust in the LORD. As one writer has said, he does not take "the smallest step for the injury of his enemy." Instead "he refers his case to Jehovah, and leaves it in His hands, looking for His deliverance." … At times we face opposition and insults, and we trust in ourselves and our own efforts. We try to avenge the insults and crush those who oppose us. We only find that we expose ourselves to shame and to the triumph of our enemies.
Wanting evil put to shame is not the same as wanting revenge on a person. One writer marks the difference:
The Christian cannot desire that an individual enemy come under judgment. But he does desire that evil be set aside, and that those who oppose good be put to shame. He loves and desires righteousness… In his own case he can desire that result, without wishing evil on the person.
Verse 1 says LORD; verse 2 says my God. One writer ties that pair of names to Thomas's words to Jesus, and points to Peter as the man who gave in and was ashamed of Him.
Just as Thomas called Jesus, "My Lord and my God!" (John 20:28), so David calls Him "Lord" in verse 1 and "God" in verse 2. Satan tries hard to make us ashamed of Him. So how important that we should pray He would keep us from shame! Peter gave in to that temptation because he thought he would never be ashamed. To that extent his enemies triumphed over him, and he wept bitterly. Thank God the grace of the Lord Jesus restored him, and later he spoke for Him boldly and without shame.
The psalm asks for something the New Testament states as settled fact.
"…let me not be put to shame" need never be the prayer of the New Testament believer. We have this assurance: "whoever believes in Him will not be put to shame" (Rom. 9:33).
That confidence does not rest on us. One writer notes where the first full confession of sin appears, and what God's pardon rests on.
Grace and truth came through Jesus Christ (John 1:17)… And so in this psalm we first find the full and unreserved confession of sin. God acts "for His name's sake," to declare what He is. So this plea can be made: "Pardon my guilt, for it is great." The greatness of the guilt will only magnify the grace that puts it away.
- Lift — trouble sends the soul upward first. The heart has no other refuge; anything else pulls it away from the one place that helps.
- Trust — subjection, confidence and dependence stand together here. The one who holds all three will never be ashamed.
- Release — trust will not take even the smallest step to injure an enemy. Avenging ourselves brings on the very shame we feared.
- Widen — real faith cannot keep the prayer to itself. It widens to take in others, asking that "none who wait for you shall be put to shame."
- Rest — what the psalm asks, the gospel settles. Whoever believes in Him will not be put to shame. The ground is God's own name, not our record.
Yea, none that wait on thee shall be ashamed they shall be ashamed that deal treacherously without cause.
Verse 2 was a personal prayer for the psalmist himself. Verse 3 widens it to everyone who waits on God, and then names who will carry the shame instead. So what does waiting involve, and why are the treacherous the ones who end up ashamed?
The opening of the psalm moves in steps. One writer traces them in order:
The psalm opens with subjection to the Lord — "To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul"; confidence in the Lord — "in you I trust"; and dependence on the Lord — "wait for you." Those who do this have the assurance that they will never be ashamed.
Waiting is what a person does instead of defending himself. The same writer shows what happens when we act first:
The believer overcomes all his difficulties by implicit trust in the LORD. He does not, as one has said, take "the smallest step for the injury of his enemy." Instead, "he refers his case to Jehovah, and leaves it in His hands, looking for His deliverance." … At times we meet opposition and insults. Then we trust in ourselves and our own efforts to avenge insults and crush opposers. We only find that we expose ourselves to shame and to the triumph of our enemies.
The promise belongs to those who wait. So everything depends on whether our waiting is real:
"They shall not be ashamed that wait for Me." This is the true record of the living God. Everyone whom grace has enabled to exercise a living faith has proved that record true. But then we must remember how much is involved in those three words, "wait for Me." The waiting must be a real thing. It will not do to say we are waiting on God when our eye is really glancing sideways at some human prop, some confidence in a created thing. We must be shut in to God alone. We must come to the end of self, and to the bottom of circumstances. Only then do we fully prove what the life of faith is, and what God's resources are.
The psalmist cannot keep his prayer to himself. He asks for every other waiting soul what he asks for himself:
The true heart has no other refuge… But when it is real, it cannot keep to itself. Grace links it with God's goodness, felt in this very hope, and then with all those who wait on Jehovah. It desires that the wicked may be ashamed. These are transgressors without cause — those who love evil, not those who fall into it… The Christian cannot desire that one enemy come under judgment. But he does desire that evil be set aside, and that the adversaries of good be made ashamed.
The verse calls them "wantonly treacherous" — their betrayal has no provocation behind it.
Right now the picture looks upside down. The faithful suffer, and the treacherous are comfortable. One writer notes the temptation and the coming reversal:
Satan tries hard to make us ashamed of Him. So how important that we should pray He would keep us from shame! Peter gave in to that temptation because he thought he would never be ashamed… But if we truly wait on the Lord, He will preserve us from being ashamed. In fact, those who ought to be ashamed are those "who deal treacherously without cause" (v. 3). The day will come when they will indeed be ashamed. At present they are not honest enough to be ashamed of their evil ways.
Commentators read the psalm at more than one level. Some hear Christ Himself speaking for the faithful part of Israel:
In Psalm 25, then, Christ speaks as the head of the remnant, so to speak. "O my God, I trust in you; let me not be ashamed; let not my enemies triumph over me." We always find Him among enemies who hate God, never joined with them. So, as He suffers, He prays that He may not be shut in with them.
- Lift, trust, wait. Verses 1–2 make three moves: the soul lifts itself to God, trusts Him, and keeps waiting. The promise of verse 3 rests on all three.
- Wait only. Waiting is real only when the sideways glance at a human prop is gone. The soul is shut in to God alone.
- Hands off. The waiting believer takes no step to injure his enemy. He hands the case to God and looks for His deliverance. Hitting back is what exposes us to the shame we feared.
- Not me only. Real trust cannot stay private. It asks for every waiting soul what it asks for itself. And it wants evil set aside, not one enemy destroyed.
- Shame changes address. Those treacherous without cause are not honest enough to be ashamed now. But the day is coming when the shame moves from the waiting to the wicked.
Make me to know thy ways, O Jehovah; teach me thy paths.
The prayer here is not for advice or a plan. It asks for the ways and paths that belong to God Himself. It follows the trust of the opening verses, and it raises two questions the psalm goes on to answer: what are God's "ways," and who learns them?
The prayer asks for something narrower than good guidance. One writer notes both where such ways are found and what God's teaching involves.
This is not a request for even a right way, but for God's own way. We cannot learn His ways and His paths anywhere but in His word. And we cannot trust ourselves to learn this properly without God's own leading. So the psalm goes on, "Lead me in Your truth and teach me" (v. 5). We need more than to be told God's truth. We need God to teach us. His teaching is not only instruction. It also includes His disciplining hand, which holds back wrong thoughts and encourages true ones.
Learning these paths does more than direct our steps. It shapes what we become.
These are not simply ways in which He would have us walk, but ways which are in principle His own ways. We are called and privileged to "be imitators of God, as dear children" (Eph. 5:1, Gk.). Obedience is an essential part of this for us. And the Son of God Himself has "learned" obedience — learned it in suffering, down here among us (Heb. 5:8). What an incentive and encouragement for us!
This prayer comes from a settled heart. It also turns attention away from something that often distracts believers.
He has found rest by committing himself, and his circumstances, to the LORD. Now he wants to see the LORD's ways, to be taught His paths, and to be led in the truth. Believers are often too taken up with the evil ways of men, the crooked paths they walk, and the errors they teach. But God has His own ways to guide how His people live, His paths for their feet to walk, and His truth to teach them.
The answer to this prayer is not a set of directions handed over once. It is God's own attention, and it asks for attention in return.
It is not a way marked out and then left to us. God Himself watches over us and guides us. The way suits Him and is the fruit of His wisdom — a divine way for us. God Himself is what we see here: His goodness, His leading, His interest in us, ready to forgive when needed and to lead with the undistracted eye of love. But this assumes that the heart pays attention to the eye of God. The way is to watch Him and to follow with understanding. So God teaches the soul within what pleases Him, and shapes it after Himself in knowledge.
The psalm does not leave the prayer hanging. The verses after it describe the person who can receive the answer.
Knowing what God does is not the same as knowing His ways. The difference is nearness to Him.
He deals this way with those who are near Him in heart. He gives them the capacity to understand Him and to receive what is in His mind. This is solemn. Israel could only know Him by His outward acts. In heart they were far from Him, so they were unfit to hear His counsels and His ways. It is always so. One Christian is fit for this: he obeys the mind and will God has revealed, he wants to bow to Him, and he responds to the way God has shown Himself. God waits for that, and guides and instructs him. Another is slow to hear, and learns very little.
The prayer does not stop with guidance. Verses 6 and 7 turn to confession.
The thought of God's ways reminds the believer of his own ways, often so contrary to God's. This leads to the confession of sins, and to the believer casting himself upon the tender mercies and loving-kindness of the LORD.
- The request — Not for a right way, but for His way; and it is learned in His word, under His teaching.
- The content — His paths carry His own character, so walking them means becoming an imitator of God.
- The Teacher — He does not mark out a route and leave it. He watches, forgives, and leads. He looks for a heart that pays attention.
- The learner — Meekness, obedience, honesty, fear of the Lord and dependence make a person able to see His way.
- The effect — Seeing God's ways exposes our own, so the prayer for guidance opens into confession and fresh mercy.
Make me to walk in thy truth, and teach me for thou art the God of my salvation; on thee do I wait all the day.
Psalm 25 is a prayer of someone who wants direction and knows he cannot find it on his own. Verse 5 asks for God's own truth, not for general advice about life. The plea rests on two things: who God is to the one praying, and how long he will wait.
The plea builds on verse 4. Whose path it is, and where we learn it, both matter.
"Make me to know Your ways, O Lord; teach me Your paths" (v. 4). This asks not even for a right way, but for God's own way. We can learn His ways and His paths nowhere but in His word. And we cannot trust ourselves to learn them correctly without God's own leading. So the psalm adds, "Lead me in Your truth and teach me" (v. 5). Hearing God's truth is not enough; we need God Himself to teach us. And His teaching is not only instruction. It includes His disciplining hand, which restrains misguided thoughts and encourages true ones.
The prayer carries a warning about where our attention goes.
Believers often get taken up with the evil ways of men, the crooked paths they walk, and the errors they teach. But God has His ways to guide the conduct of His people, His paths for their feet to tread, and His truth to instruct them. Our great concern should be to see His ways, to be taught His paths, and, not only to know the truth, but to be led in the truth.
Why ask to be led when you have already asked to be taught? One writer answers by tracing a rising scale of God's help that runs well past instruction.
Sheep are passive creatures and can do little for themselves. Believers can do just as little in the work of their salvation. In themselves they know the way of salvation no better than sheep do. They cannot walk in it unless they are taught and led. "Teach me, O Lord" (Ps. 119:33): "Lead me in Your truth" (Ps. 25:5). They are like a blind man holding out his hand to his guide. Leading may suppose some willingness; but we must be drawn: "No one can come to me unless the Father… draws him" (John 6:44). There is a word of special grace that goes beyond teaching, leading and drawing. That word is leaning: "Who is that coming up from the wilderness, leaning on her beloved?" (Song 8:5). And there is one word more: bearing. When the good Shepherd has found the lost sheep, "he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing" (Luke 15:5).
The prayer gives its own grounds: God is the God of my salvation. One writer shows why that title is the argument. He quotes an older translation, with "faithfulness" where the ESV has "truth."
And this God, whose ways we are called to know, is the "God of salvation." This is where worship springs from, as the Lord showed at the well in Sychar (John 4:22). And the spirit of worship must always be the spirit of obedience too. The salvation itself is, of course, a salvation from sin, or it would be no salvation at all. How suitable then is the argument, "Direct me in Your faithfulness, and teach me; for You are the God of my salvation"! He must be faithful to this purpose of His heart. So the glad soul may "wait for Him all the day long" without growing tired. That is how it gathers strength, for waiting on Him is itself rest. His patience is the patience of Almighty power, and it can never run short.
The closing words are harder than they look. One writer sets them against the soul still trying to work its own way back to God.
A soul may be convinced of sin and try to recover the place it has lost before God. This soul believes there is some means other than pure pardon. It has no true relationship with God yet. It can no longer seek the world; it observes the Lord's day; it attends meetings, and rests on such things. But then the soul is not convinced that God is love, any more than it is in God's presence with a true knowledge of itself. Not being humbled, it chooses its own way to reach God, and cannot say, "I wait on you," as in verses 5 and 21. It is when we are convinced that there is no question of getting to God, but that we are in His presence and lost, that we can say, "For your name's sake, O Lord, pardon my guilt, for it is great."
The prayers of this psalm form a chain, and those who pray it now do so from firmer ground.
They will turn to Him and inquire for His ways, His paths and His truth. Here are their prayers: "Show me — lead me — teach me — remember Your mercies — remember not my sins — remember me." And He will answer; yes, He will remember their sins and iniquities no more and remember them in mercy. Our prayer as Christian believers is also for guidance, but we know that our sins are put away, that He has saved us.
- His way — not a good path, but God's own path, learned from His word and never left to our own reading of it.
- His leading — God does more than inform. He guides, draws, lets us lean, and carries us, because we can no more find the way than sheep can.
- His truth — the pull is away from watching the crooked paths and errors of men, and toward being led in what God has said.
- His salvation — "God of my salvation" is why the prayer expects an answer. He must be faithful to the purpose of His own heart.
- His time — only the soul that has stopped trying to reach God can say "I wait" — and waiting on Him is itself rest.
Remember, Jehovah, thy tender mercies and thy loving-kindnesses; for they are from everlasting.
Psalm 25 is the prayer of a man who asked to be taught God's ways, and then remembered his own. In verse 6 he turns from his own case to God's character — which raises a strange question: why ask the God who never forgets to remember anything?
This prayer is not where the psalm starts. It comes after the psalmist has asked God to show him His paths, and it is the honest result of that asking.
The thought of God's ways reminds the believer of his own ways, often so contrary to God's. This leads him to confess his sins, and to cast himself on the tender mercies and loving-kindness of the LORD.
Two words carry this verse. Older translations call them "tender mercies" and "loving-kindnesses"; the ESV calls them "mercy" and "steadfast love." Where the ESV says these have been "from of old," the Darby translation says they are "from everlasting."
He does not offer God a reason found in himself. He asks God to act in keeping with what God has already shown Himself to be.
Next, in verse 6, he casts himself on what God is in mercy, as God had already shown Himself to be. He pleads that God will not remember Israel's past sins, but will remember him according to His mercy. He knows Jehovah, that He is good and upright, and will therefore teach sinners in the way. He deals with them according to His own nature and character, where He works in grace, goodness, and uprightness. This is an all-important point.
The prayer rests on evidence. Israel's whole history stands behind it.
"Remember your mercy, O LORD, and your steadfast love, for they have been from of old" (v. 6). All of Israel's past history has proved this. So the psalmist appeals to a sufficiency in God that the past has already shown. Of course God will answer a prayer like this. He will also answer the prayer that follows, asking Him not to remember the sins of his youth or his transgressions (v. 7).
One word ties verses 6 and 7 together. Following it shows how the two prayers fit — and how odd the last one would sound from a stranger.
He says the word remember three times over — "Remember your tender mercies and your loving-kindnesses." But this carries his thoughts back to the past. So he has to cry, "Remember not my sins or my transgressions." Then he adds words that would sound strange if he did not know the character of the LORD: "according to your mercy remember me, for your goodness' sake, O LORD." He is thrown, and throws himself, wholly on the goodness and kindness of the One against whom he has sinned.
If God never changes and never forgets, why remind Him at all? One writer faces that question and turns it into a reason to pray more, not less.
The psalmist dares to remind God of those unchanging loving-kindnesses, which are only the display of His own nature. So it may look like childishness to remind Him at all. Will the Unchangeable change? Can the Eternal forget? The prayer itself admits that it is nothing but human weakness — and that very weakness appeals to these "tender compassions" of God. We are not to make His perfections a restraint on our prayers. They should do the opposite and encourage us to pray. Otherwise all prayer would stop at once. Think of influencing the One who cannot change, or of telling anything to the One who knows all!
The same writer draws the practical conclusion: weakness in prayer is not a disqualification from it.
Let then our prayers bear witness of our feebleness, yet may we, with crippled Jacob, have "power with God and prevail." It were the destruction of freedom to restrain with His perfection the pouring out of our hearts before Him to which we are invited. He knows all that is in ours, who yet invites us.
One writer reads this psalm as more than one man's experience. He hears in it the voice of a people brought back to God, owning that their ruin is their own doing.
They now feel that their sin has been their ruin; that their iniquities are the wall of their separation from the God of their strength. Yet they still remember Him as their God. These people, lying flat as the victims of their own undoing, think about His name and about His mercy — the mercy of the One who is not overcome by evil. Now they ask after His ways, His paths, His truth. To Himself alone they look for light as well as for deliverance.
- Ways. Asking to be taught God's paths exposes your own; verse 6 is what an honest look at yourself does next.
- Remember. He says the word three times across verses 6 and 7 — remember Your mercies, do not remember my sins, remember me.
- Old. The plea rests on a long record: what God has already shown Himself to be is the evidence that He will be it again.
- Unchangeable. To remind the Eternal is to admit we are weak. His perfections should encourage prayer, never silence it.
- Only. They own their sin as the cause of their ruin, and rest on God's own nature, not on their record, as their one hope.
Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions; according to thy loving-kindness remember thou me, for thy goodness' sake, Jehovah.
One word keeps returning in this prayer. First the writer asks God to remember His own mercies. Then he asks Him not to remember something else. The verse raises a question every honest person meets: what do I do with a past I cannot undo, and why should God pass over it? The commentators below quote an older translation. It says "Jehovah" where the ESV says "LORD," and "mercy" or "loving-kindness" where the ESV says "steadfast love."
The prayer does not start with sin. Thinking about God's ways is what brings it up.
(Verses 6, 7). The thought of God's ways reminds the believer of his own ways, often so contrary to God's. This leads to the confession of sins, and to the believer casting himself upon the tender mercies and loving-kindness of the LORD.
The verse leans on one repeated word, and the direction of that word changes as the prayer moves.
Three times over he uses the word remember. First: "Remember Your tender mercies and Your loving-kindnesses." But this carries him back in thought to the past. So of course he cries, "Remember not my sins, nor my transgressions." Then he adds what would sound strange if the character of Jehovah were unknown: "according to Your mercy remember me, for Your goodness' sake, O Jehovah." He is cast, and casts himself, wholly on the goodness and kindness of the One against whom he has sinned.
Asking God to forget your sins while still trusting Him is not an obvious combination. This psalm holds both at once.
In Psalm 25 sin is confessed. This is what makes the difference for any soul in the present time... How can I go to Jehovah when I have been sinning? How can a man trust Jehovah with a bad conscience? Here confession and trust come together. They can look for mercy. God never allows absolute despair in His people, though it is often very like it... Then the cross brings out all that meets this state. If there were only love, where would the righteousness be? If righteousness only, where the love? The cross combines both.
The words sound like one man's memory of his own past. One writer reads the speaker differently: Israel's whole history stands behind them.
"Remember not the sins of my youth." Here Israel is personified — Christ entering into their case, for sins of His youth are clearly not His relation to God. "But according to Your mercy remember me." He enters into the spirit of that word, God's real and only possible way of dealing with Israel, "that He might have mercy upon all." Christ had come for the truth of God to confirm the promises. But Israel had refused Him, and now Israel must come in under mercy.
The verse asks for mercy first. It appeals to nothing in the one praying. Most people come to God the other way round.
The heart of man upsets everything. He puts the uprightness of Jehovah before His grace, His truth before His mercy, and thinks that if a man walks as he ought, God will be good toward him. That is the opposite of what is said here... Jehovah is "upright," and He loves uprightness. But before anything else He would have the wretched sinner know Him as "good." A half-enlightened soul knows its faults up to a point. It wants to arrive at enjoying the goodness of God by its own uprightness... Hardness of heart rises against the grace of God.
The last phrase names the reason God should act. That reason lies in God, not in the one praying.
Now comes the confession. There are "sins and revoltings" not to be remembered. And we know what God's mercy has provided for this in the new covenant. In Israel, year by year, the scapegoat carried the sins of the people away into a place cut off. And the new covenant, in the mouth of Jeremiah, plainly declares that God will remember their sins and iniquities no more. No specifications here, no exceptions. How blessed the wide sweep of a statement like this! Nothing at all falls outside it. So the soul may well say, "According to Your mercy remember me, for Your goodness' sake, Jehovah!" The thief on the cross could say as much. And the Lord more than answers that bold, trusting prayer: "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." When did the answer ever come from God: "You have counted on Me too much; you have imagined in Me a mercy that I do not have"?
- Cause. Looking at God's ways shows you your own. That is what draws the confession out.
- Gift. Confession and trust belong in the same breath. A bad conscience is no reason to stay away, because love and righteousness meet at the cross.
- Order. Mercy comes before uprightness. Trying to earn God's goodness by your own straightness is the one thing that blocks grace.
- Reach. "Sins of my youth" and "transgressions" come with no exceptions attached. Nothing falls outside what God will not remember.
- Result. The plea rests on God's goodness, not yours. God has never told anyone they counted on His mercy too much.
Good and upright is Jehovah; therefore will he instruct sinners in the way
Two words describe God here, and a "therefore" hangs on them. We might expect His uprightness to lead to a warning; instead it leads to an offer to teach the people who have gone wrong.
The heart of man upsets everything. He puts the uprightness of Jehovah before His grace, and His truth before His mercy. He thinks that if a man walks as he ought, God will be good toward him. That is the exact opposite of what the psalm says here… Jehovah, who is "upright," loves uprightness; but before all He would have the wretched sinner know Him as "good." The soul that is only half-enlightened knows its faults up to a point, and wants to reach the enjoyment of God's goodness by its own uprightness. Hardness of heart rises against the grace of God, and nothing hinders grace more than the thought that if a man is upright, God will be good to him. The heart is neither lowly nor softened, and pride is not yet destroyed in it.
The writers quote an older translation, which prints God's covenant name as "Jehovah" where the ESV has "the LORD."
God stays true to His own character. That is why He can teach uprightness, in grace, to those who lost it.
There is a faithfulness in Jehovah to His own goodness — to His own character, which is above evil. A ransom has been found that maintains righteousness, so He acts for the true blessing of the sinner who looks to Him. Good and upright is Jehovah. Good to us, He loves uprightness, loves to see it, and so will teach it in grace to those who have wandered from it. For someone who has wandered, it is sweet to count on this… The exact question is not what "the way" was — of course it was a good one — but that He would teach them in it. His active love would be occupied with them for good.
The same writer shows what condition the wanderers are in. They have not just left God's ways; they have forgotten them.
They had wandered in their own ways; how terribly God's ways are forgotten! But the good and gracious Lord will not leave them unguided; their state draws out His compassion. He loves the right way, and He cannot bless anywhere else. He teaches sinners in the way.
The verse gives a reason for the teaching, and it lies in the Teacher, not in the learner.
He knows Jehovah, that He is good and upright, and will therefore teach sinners in the way. He deals with them according to His own nature and character, where He works in grace, goodness, and uprightness. This is an all-important point.
Because the reason lies in God, the smallest movement toward Him meets a response. One writer notes what the verse does not mention, and why that silence is not a gap.
If there is even the least real desire after what is good, it is impossible for Him to be indifferent to it. This verse does not speak of the need of atonement, and, as we shall see, neither does the rest of the psalm. But the provision of atonement only shows how completely God is for the soul that turns to Him.
The complaint of Jesus' critics turns out to describe this verse in action.
Because He is good and upright, He therefore condescends to teach sinners as to His own way (v. 8). Does this not remind us of the words of His enemies in Luke 15:2, "This man receives sinners and eats with them"? They would not have said this if He had been a sinner Himself. They objected to His showing compassion to people they thought did not deserve it. However, though they did not deserve it, He acted according to the goodness of His heart.
Confession is not where this psalm stops.
Dwelling on God's ways and paths and truth leads the psalmist to delight in God. He has confessed his sins. But he realises that God is "good and upright," so he is sure that God will teach even a sinner His way.
- Order. Goodness comes first, then uprightness. Reverse them, and you are left trying to earn His goodness — the thought that hinders grace most.
- Gift. The uprightness God loves is the very thing He teaches, in grace, to people who have already wandered from it.
- Ground. The teaching flows from His nature, not from the learner's record; that is why the verse says "therefore."
- Reach. The least real desire after good cannot leave Him indifferent. Atonement stands behind that welcome, even where the psalm says nothing about it.
- Proof. "This man receives sinners" was meant as an accusation against Jesus; it is this verse lived out.
The meek will he guide in judgment, and the meek will he teach his way.
Earlier in this psalm David admits his sin and asks God to teach him. This verse names the condition: humility. Older translations read "the meek" where the ESV reads "the humble," and "in judgment" where it reads "in what is right." Two questions follow. Who are the meek? And what does God promise them?
The word is not about a soft personality. It describes a person who has stopped pretending before God.
The humble are those who take their true place before God, not hiding their sinfulness. Only in such an attitude are people really teachable, and in submission of heart to Him will they learn His way.
In daily life, that submission shows in how a person takes what others do to them.
Suppose I give you a harsh word. If you take it from me, Satan instantly gets an advantage, and you are angry. If you take it directly from God, you say, "That was not very nice, not very Christ-like. But the Lord must have had some good reason for letting that harsh word come." What meekness that produces in the soul, when I take everything directly from the hand of God. What is it to be meek? It is a person who is willing to be trampled on, a person who takes everything so from God that the bitter thing is sweet.
Meekness is not the price paid for God's help. It grows in a person who has admitted their sin and found God good anyway.
But acknowledging sin and knowing the goodness of God produces meekness, a subdued spirit, and lowliness. It means the absence of haughtiness and of self — the very thing the pagan world treated as the source of virtue. In this state God guides in judgment and teaches His way.
The two halves of the verse do not say the same thing twice. The first promises more than directions for the road ahead. It promises an inward ability to judge a situation as God judges it.
He does more than teach the way to someone who had wandered far from it. Where there is lowliness and submission to God, He leads them into an understanding of His ways in their own spirit and mind. His instructions form them to judge what God's own way is. This is an inward, moral likeness to God that sets itself to discern and judge circumstances.
If lowliness opens the lesson, pride closes it.
How often our vanity and self-importance make us miss the guidance and teaching of the LORD! But acknowledging our sin and realising the goodness of God leads to a spirit of meekness. That meekness receives the LORD's guidance, light on His way, and a right judgment about good and evil.
Scripture gives a test case: the meekest man in the world.
In His dealings with His servants, God acts on the principles of His own word. Numbers 12 says, "Now the man Moses was very meek, more than all people who were on the face of the earth." And Psalm 103:7 says, "He made known his ways to Moses, his acts to the people of Israel." He deals like this with those who are morally near Him. He gives them the capacity to understand Him and to receive what He makes known of His mind. This is solemn. Israel could only know Him in His outward acts. They were morally far from Him, and so unfit to hear His counsels and ways.
What about the times we long for clear direction and have no visible sign to follow?
Have we ever sighed for guidance on our pilgrim way, wishing we had some visible sign to direct us? … We have His Spirit and His word, and if we have that meekness of which Psalm 25:9 speaks, we shall not lack the over-ruling guidance that we need.
God ties this promise to a condition, not to a group. Where the condition is missing, Christians disagree.
If there were more of this blessed spirit of meekness among us, there would be less confusion, less controversy, and less quarrelling over words that does no good. If we were all meek, God would guide us all and teach us all, and so we would see eye to eye.
- Cause — meekness grows; no one manufactures it. Owning your sin and finding God good anyway leaves a subdued spirit with no pride in it.
- Condition — the meek take their true place before God and hide none of their sinfulness. Only such people are teachable.
- Gift — God does more than point out the road; He forms the mind to discern and judge circumstances as He does.
- Barrier — vanity and self-importance make us miss this guidance. A proud heart cannot receive it.
- Result — God made His ways known to Moses, the meekest of men, while Israel saw only His acts. Where meekness spreads, confusion and controversy shrink.
All the paths of Jehovah are loving-kindness and truth for such as keep his covenant and his testimonies.
Psalm 25 is the prayer of a man who asks God to show him His ways, then admits that his own guilt is great. Verse 10 is the answer he rests in. Every path God takes with His people carries the same two marks — "steadfast love and faithfulness," which older translations call "mercy and truth."
The verse speaks of paths in the plural, and that plural matters. God's people are not all led over identical ground.
He has only one way, "the way of peace," or "the way of the Lord," the way that leads to the glory of God. But He has many "paths," all of which are mercy and truth (v. 10). He may lead one believer along a path of trial and sorrow, and another along a path that is mostly pleasant. More often the path is a mixture of the two. Every path He appoints for His saints carries "mercy and truth" with it. That is a great contrast to the hardness and falsehood of the paths that large numbers of unbelievers walk.
The two words are not alternatives. God does not soften one to make room for the other, and a later psalm shows the pair in full display.
"Mercy" is promised to those who in their hearts "keep Jehovah's covenant and His testimonies," and it is promised because they need it. Holiness is fully kept, and grace is shown. "Mercy" leads the way and brings in "truth," and "all the paths of Jehovah" declare these things together. So "mercy and truth" have "met together," and "righteousness and peace" will "kiss each other." Psalm 85 shows this brought about.
That combination is God acting in character. Verses 8 to 10 hold together in one thought:
In verses 8 to 10 the soul recognizes that all God's dealings with sinners match His own nature. So they will be goodness joined with uprightness. As we should say in the clear light of Christianity, grace reigns through righteousness. Those who receive the blessing are the meek and the obedient.
The verse describes who walks these paths: those who keep His covenant and His testimonies. That points to the Scriptures we have in hand.
Psalm 25 speaks of keeping "His testimonies" as the way by which the paths of the Lord become mercy and truth to us. The form in which we have His testimonies is the Holy Scriptures. The Word of God is the first source of all light and direction for us. There we find the broad principles of action that are to govern us. There are smaller details of a personal kind, of course, and we cannot expect to find these mentioned in Scripture. Still, we may seek and find guidance in many confusing situations — if we keep the fear of the Lord, if we wait on Him in prayer with a meek spirit, and if we obey what we know of His revealed Word.
Verse 10 sits between "He instructs sinners in the way" and "pardon my guilt, for it is great." That placement exposes a common instinct.
The heart of man upsets everything. He puts the uprightness of Jehovah before His grace, and His truth before His mercy. He thinks that if a man walks as he should, God will be good to him. That is the exact opposite of what is said here… Jehovah who is "upright" loves uprightness. But above all He wants the wretched sinner to know Him as "good." A poorly taught soul knows its faults up to a point, and then wants to reach the enjoyment of God's goodness by its own uprightness.
If these paths belong to covenant-keepers, a problem follows at once. The psalmist feels it himself, which is why the very next verse begs for pardon. The covenant he stood under brought a real difficulty with it.
Here was a serious difficulty for the Israelite — the nature of that "covenant" he was under with God. The law, as the apostle declares (2 Cor. 3) and the experience of every honest-hearted man confirms, was only the "ministry of death" and "condemnation." No one could face its demands without the cry we find in the Psalms themselves: "Enter not into judgment with Your servant, for no one living is righteous before You."
- Character: The paths start in God Himself. His dealings with sinners follow His own nature — goodness joined with uprightness.
- Content: Every path carries both mercy and truth. God keeps holiness in full and shows grace at the same time; He never trades one for the other.
- Reach: One way, many paths. Sorrow for one, ease for another, usually a mix — but the same two marks on each.
- Condition: These paths belong to those who keep His covenant and testimonies. In practice, that means obeying Scripture in meekness and dependence.
- Confession: The order is not "walk well, then God is good." Verse 11 shows that the psalmist could not claim a kept covenant. He asks for pardon for the sake of God's name.
For thy name's sake, O Jehovah, thou wilt indeed pardon mine iniquity; for it is great.
Psalm 25 is the prayer of a soul learning God's ways. At verse 11 the prayer turns to the one thing in the way: the man's own guilt, which older translations call his iniquity. The reason he gives is startling. He asks for pardon because the sin is great, and he asks on a ground outside himself.
Why would anyone give the size of his sin as a reason to be pardoned? It is the reverse of how people usually argue:
God brings in the principle of living righteousness, and so makes us conscious of our sins. "For Your name's sake pardon my iniquity; for it is great," Psalm 25. This is strange reasoning according to man's thought — "for it is great." Men plead that their sin is a little one. But when God teaches us, we see how great sin is. Another thing is that truth is in the man. Because he feels the sin is great, he has given up any thought of justifying himself.
The size of the sin is not an obstacle to the prayer. It is the argument for it.
The plea would collapse in any human court. That contrast is the point:
Suppose a criminal asked the judge who was trying him to pardon his iniquity because it was great. The whole court, I need hardly say, would stare in amazement at the man's presumption. But what would be presumption to the world and before men is exactly the confidence of faith. That is what God works in a converted soul: integrity of heart in owning and confessing its sins. So there is not only a cleansing of the sins, but a cleansing from all unrighteousness.
Notice what the psalm does not offer as a reason: nothing about the person praying. The appeal is to God's name — that is, to everything God is.
On the ground of these ways of God with sinners, the soul confesses its sins, and appeals to God for pardon on the ground of all that God is — "Your name's sake."
Because the ground is God's own name, the forgiveness cannot be partial or grudging. It is His reputation that is at stake, not ours:
My iniquity is great: if You do not forgive me for Your own glory's sake, You cannot do it at all. And not one spot of sin will He leave, for the comfort of my own heart or the glory of His name.
The greatness of the sin is not brushed aside. It becomes the measure of grace, and of the love that follows.
So the prayer is spoken in confidence: "For Your name's sake, Jehovah, pardon my iniquity, for it is great." Great sin is great need. Great sin pardoned is great grace. Knowing that great sin has been pardoned makes the heart love much. All this the Lord has Himself shown out in the case of the sinful woman in the Pharisee's house. So we find that the fullest gospel is the holiest gospel. We see that grace is the effective conqueror of sin. In this way the Lord makes His name known and glorifies it in forgiving sin.
Where does the boldness to pray like this come from?
The grace of God in giving Christ to suffer on the cross opens their heart to speak out their sins. So they can say, "For Your name's sake, O Jehovah, pardon my iniquity; for it is great." That is indeed the reason. Its greatness, no doubt, needs such a sacrifice. But faced with such a sacrifice, no one asks God to make allowance because the sin was little. On the contrary, they ask Him to pardon it because it was so great.
People try to earn God's goodness by first being upright. This part of the psalm turns that around.
It is only when we are fully convinced that our iniquity is "great" that we feel our need of God and of His pardon... The Lord who is "upright" loves uprightness. But before anything else He wants the wretched sinner to know Him as "good." A soul only half-enlightened knows its faults up to a point, and then wants to reach the enjoyment of God's goodness by its own uprightness. That is proof of a heart which does not know God. Hardness of heart rises against the grace of God.
And the real honesty comes afterwards, not before:
There is never uprightness in the heart until our consciences have seen and felt what we are before God: pardoned sinners. The moment that the soul says, "For Your name's sake, O Jehovah, pardon my iniquity; for it is great," God is certain to show Himself.
- Great need. We feel our need of God's pardon only when we are convinced our iniquity is great. The man who calls his sin small has not yet been taught by God.
- Great confession. Pleading the size of your guilt would be presumption in a human court. Before God it is the confidence of faith, and it works integrity of heart in owning and confessing sin.
- Great ground. The plea rests on nothing in the sinner. It rests on God's name and glory. If He will not forgive for His own glory's sake, He cannot forgive at all.
- Great grace. Great sin pardoned is great grace. Knowing it makes the heart love much, and the fullest gospel proves to be the holiest.
- Great result. God leaves not one spot of sin. Only a conscience that has felt what it is, as a pardoned sinner, becomes upright.
What man is he that feareth Jehovah? him will he instruct in the way [that] he should choose.
Earlier in the psalm the writer begged God to teach him His paths, and here that plea turns into a question with the answer built in. Who receives this teaching, and what is the way God chooses?
The verse is not an isolated promise. It comes as one link in a chain of qualities running through the psalm, each one fitting a person to be taught.
Psalm 25 never mentions the house of God. It deals instead with the different marks of godliness in the believer that fit him to have dealings with God. The prayer is, "Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths." The verses that follow describe what a believer must be like to see the Lord's way. He must be marked by meekness (verse 9), obedience (verse 10), freedom from deceit (verse 11), the fear of the Lord (verses 12 and 14), and a spirit of constant dependence on the Lord (verse 15).
Verse 11 has just asked for pardon. That order — forgiveness, then fear — may look backwards, but it is deliberate.
The fear of Jehovah is the next thing the psalm dwells on. It is where a real knowledge of His grace will always lead. "But with You there is forgiveness, that You may be feared." We might expect it to say "loved" instead. Yet we can be sure there is no mistake here. The closeness that grace brings — the knowledge of God gained by someone brought to Him — drives out the fear of a slave. It does not produce it.
This is not nervousness about God. It is a settled way of living.
A God-fearing man walks with a conscious sense of being in God's presence, and he owns his responsibility to God. Such a man will not only tell right from wrong. He will also see the path that God marks out for His people in the darkness and confusion all around.
The verse can be read two ways: the way the man should choose, or the way God Himself chooses. The writers here take it as God's own chosen way — a set route, not just a clean conscience.
The man who is guided in judgment will know what is right and do it, and will avoid what is wrong… There was a way God chose while evil was everywhere. The one who feared Jehovah would be taught in this way. He would find the path that led to full blessing. This is a great privilege, and no surrounding darkness or confusion can take it from us. It is the way Jehovah chooses in the middle of it — a special covenant way for those who fear Him.
Because the promise is about the way He chooses, it is possible to be respectable and still miss it entirely.
The man who claims to have the fear of the Lord cares little about being guided "in the way HE chooses." He knows he must walk in ways that are morally right. He measures what that means by a general Christian standard, which may be a little higher than the average conscience of the Christian group he belongs to. But "the way HE chooses" — how little anyone anywhere pays attention to this! How few even notice it is missing!
The verse asks about one man, not a crowd. God's teaching comes to people one at a time.
There is guidance for each of us on our own. God loves to have us set apart for Himself in this way. To each one of us the Lord says, "Follow Me!" Real communion with the Lord always involves this.
The promise does not stop at teaching. What a believer is given today is better than material prosperity.
One who fears the Lord will certainly confess his sins to Him, as in verse 11, and God will honour him for giving Him His place of supreme honour. Verse 13 then promises that he will live in prosperity and that his descendants will inherit the earth. Of course, the child of God today will have higher blessings than this, for we have "an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven" (1 Peter 1:4). Our prosperity now may not be material, but spiritual prosperity is far better.
- Pardon — the fear of God grows out of forgiveness, not out of dread. Grace, really known, produces reverence; it does not remove it.
- Presence — to fear the LORD is to live in the sense of His presence and to own your responsibility to Him.
- Path — the promise goes past right and wrong. God shows the way He chooses, and the confusion around us cannot close it.
- Personal — the question asks about one man. God teaches each of us in turn, and to each He says, "Follow Me."
- Portion — the path God shows ends in full blessing, and no darkness or confusion can take it from us.
His soul shall dwell in prosperity, and his seed shall inherit the earth.
In Psalm 25 David admits his sin and asks God to teach him His ways. Verse 13 is the promise that follows, in two halves: rest for the man's own soul, and land for his children.
The promise does not stand alone. It comes right after David owns his guilt and asks for pardon. One writer sees faith already reaching out for the answer.
Led by the Spirit the godly soul anticipates the answer to the confession of sins. He who owns his sin is one that fears God, and will be led in the way of God's choice. He will enjoy soul prosperity; inherit earthly blessing; know the secret of the Lord and escape the snares of the enemy.
The "his" of verse 13 points back to the man who fears the LORD in verse 12. That fear is described not as dread but as living consciously before God, and it carries a practical benefit — the ability to tell which way to walk.
A God-fearing man is one who walks in the conscious sense of being in the presence of God, and who owns his responsibility to God. Such a man will have moral discernment between right and wrong. He will also discern the path that God marks out for His people in the middle of the darkness and confusion around him.
The first half of the verse says where the soul rests. The ESV has "abide in well-being." Older versions put "lodge in goodness" in the margin, and one writer applies that phrase to a traveller still on the road.
The experience of the man "whose eyes look right on" is very different from that of the man "whose eyes are in the ends of the earth." The first man goes straight on his way. His experience will be the record of what he has found in the way of the Lord's choice. It will record the supplies of mercy and truth from Him who has made his soul "lodge in goodness" (Ps. 25:13, margin) while walking in His paths.
The second half hands the land to a seed, and the psalm has already said who these people are: the sinners God teaches, the meek He guides. Forgiveness and inheritance are not two separate tracks.
The sinners whom Jehovah guides and teaches, as He forgives, are the meek who are to inherit the earth, since they alone have uprightness and integrity.
Others describe the same group by what they do rather than what they lack — they trust, and they wait.
They can count on so gracious a God to teach sinners. But these sinners are the meek of the earth who are to inherit it. Integrity of heart marks them, and they trust in Jehovah and wait for Him.
Verse 13 is not an isolated saying. Read alongside verses 11 and 12, it sets out a sequence that a whole block of psalms then unfolds at length.
Psalms 32 – 37 give us the history of the forgiven and justified man. They fully develop the subjects set out in Psalm 25:11-13: pardon, instruction in the way, soul-prosperity, and inheriting the earth.
Does the promise of land belong to readers today? One writer answers by pointing to a portion that is better still.
Of course, the present-day child of God will have higher blessings than this, for we have "an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you" (1 Peter 1:4). Our prosperity now may not be in material blessing, but spiritual prosperity is far better.
- Confession first. Verse 13 comes only after David owns his sin in verse 11. Pardon is the door into everything that follows.
- Fear next. The man who dwells at ease is the man of verse 12. He walks in the sense of God's presence, so he can see the path when all around him is dark.
- Goodness on the way. "Lodging in goodness" means supplies from God along the road, not only a reward at the end.
- Inheritance for the meek. The heirs are the very sinners God forgives and teaches — trusting, waiting, upright in heart.
- A better portion. The land promise stands. But believers now look to an inheritance kept in heaven, and to spiritual prosperity as the greater blessing.
The secret of Jehovah is with them that fear him, that he may make known his covenant to them.
Psalm 25 is the prayer of a man who confesses his sin and asks to be taught God's paths. Verse 14 is where that prayer reaches its highest promise. God shares His mind with certain people. What is this friendship? Who fears Him? What covenant does He make known? (Older translations read "the secret of the LORD"; the commentators below quote it that way.)
The word "secret" here is not about hidden information. It is about how friends talk. One writer contrasts a business conversation with a real friendship:
In business with the world, we say what we must about the matter in hand, as politely as we can. Once we have said it, the matter is over. With a friend, we open our minds, we speak of things that have no connection with business, of everything that is in our hearts. Abraham was called the friend of God. God was not talking with him about the promises made to Abraham himself. He was telling him all His intentions about the judgment of Sodom and Gomorrah. "The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him."
Who counts as one who fears Him? One writer defines him, and then says what he can see:
A God-fearing man is one who walks with the conscious sense of being in God's presence, and who owns his responsibility to God. Such a man will not only tell right from wrong. He will also discern the path that God marks out for His people in the middle of the darkness and confusion around him. The secret of the LORD is with those who fear Him. He gives such people to know His mind.
The promise has a limit, and it falls in a surprising place. The line runs through God's own family:
God does not make known His mind and the secret of His ways, nor admit all His children to the intimacy of friendship, and much less the world. Every child of God has the same standing in grace, and enjoys the same life, relationship, and favour. But by no means do all enjoy the same closeness with Him. To know the mind of God, one thing is needed. It is not outward standing, or correct position, or wide knowledge of Scripture. It is a spirit and a life saturated with the fear of God.
God warned one man of the coming judgment and left the other in the dark. The difference was how each man walked:
When the Lord was about to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, He said, "Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do, seeing that Abraham shall surely become a great and mighty nation…? For I have chosen him, that he may command his children and his household after him." … The whole chapter also testifies that the Lord confides His secrets only to those who fear Him. These are secrets of what He is about to do, as well as secrets of instruction. They go only to those who are walking apart from the world in communion with Himself. Lot was left in complete ignorance of Sodom's coming doom until the very eve of the judgment.
The second half of the verse names what God makes known. One writer says "His covenant" here is not the law:
Unbelievers do not perceive such a secret, but those who fear Him enjoy the secret of His presence and blessing. God has hidden such things from the wise and prudent. He has revealed them to babes — those who are simply dependent and trusting. "His covenant" here does not seem to refer to the covenant of law, since all Israel knew that covenant. It must be "the new covenant." That covenant speaks entirely of what God does, and requires nothing from the people but faith.
The result is not more mystery. It is clarity — and it comes at a price:
If a person is not spiritual, he cannot understand: he has no moral or spiritual power to discern God's mind. But where there is spiritual discernment, things become simple and clear as daylight. "The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him, and He will show them His covenant." Where there is the fear of the Lord, there will be understanding of His word and His mind. But the word of God will not be simple without subjection to Him.
- Fear — to fear the Lord is to walk with the conscious sense of being in God's presence, and to own your responsibility to Him.
- Friendship — that fear opens up the way friends talk. God told Abraham not just what concerned Abraham, but what He Himself planned to do.
- Not standing — every child of God shares the same grace and relationship, but not the same closeness. Position and Bible knowledge cannot buy it.
- Covenant — one writer reads what He shows as the new covenant. It rests wholly on what God does, and asks only faith.
- Clarity — the end is seeing God's path in dark and confusing days. But subjection to Him comes first, or His word stays unclear.
Mine eyes are ever toward Jehovah; for he will bring my feet out of the net.
This verse opens the last part of a psalm that has already judged its past sins, spoken of what God is in His ways, and rested on His covenant. Now the writer turns to himself: his feet are caught in a net, but his eyes are not on it.
Commentators read Psalm 25 in three parts, and verse 15 opens the last. The subject shifts: from what God is, to the soul itself under His eye.
The psalm divides into three parts: verses 1-7, 8-14, and 15-22. In the first part the soul is crushed and tested. It judges its past sins, yet it trusts God and looks to Him. It pleads with God about its needs and its difficulties, while the power of evil is present. In the second part this turning to God has led the soul to speak about Him. It dwells on what He is in His ways, and declares it. In the third part the soul looks to Jehovah Himself, sure that He cares about it. It calls the eye of God down on itself, on its enemies and on its circumstances.
A trapped man would stare at the trap. This one does not. His look upward steadies him, and it changes the way he speaks about his rescue.
How much blessing this constant look upwards brings, whatever the pressure of circumstances that produces it! The net is at the feet, and yet the eyes are not there, but constantly above. A brighter object is before them than the earth can furnish, and the heart is steadied and brightened by it. The feet, too, are kept better than any human wisdom could keep them. "He will pluck" rings out cheerfully from a man who knows his danger. He has learned how much more sure he can be when he speaks of what God will do than when he speaks of himself.
The looking is not a technique for calming the nerves. It is trust placed in a particular Person, and that trust does not pretend the trouble is unreal.
In going through the evil, the trust of the soul is in Jehovah, and His faithful love. "My eyes are ever toward the LORD, for He will pluck my feet out of the net." This is the secret of all — Jehovah. One looks out of all the evil and trusts in Him who is above it all. Knowing Jehovah's secret does not make us numb to present evil, even when it touches us. It does not make us cold about Jehovah's interest in us — an interest not only in righteousness (though He is always righteous), but in us ourselves.
The upward look does not stay silent. It turns into a request: the man who lifts his eyes asks God to lower His.
From the middle of all his trials the believer can say, "My eyes are ever toward the LORD." He looks up to the LORD, and he asks the LORD to look down on his afflictions, on the troubles of his heart, and on his distressing circumstances.
What holds a person's eyes on God through a long trouble? One answer is God's covenant of grace — and the snares that make such watching necessary.
Is it not the realization of God's sovereign covenant of grace that causes David's eyes to be "ever toward the LORD"? (v. 15). And this is a great necessity in view of the many snares the enemy sets to entangle us. Only the Lord can pluck our feet out of the net.
The word "ever" carries weight. Israel will one day look this way: a calm, clear eye fixed in one direction.
What is so beautiful or suggestive as the calm, full, bright eye? Besides, it is said of Israel, "My eyes are ever toward the LORD" (Ps. 25). This will be singleness of eye. Lord, hasten it in Your time!
- Look up. The verse opens the psalm's final section. There the soul turns to God Himself, sure that He cares, and brings its enemies and its circumstances under His eye.
- Look above the net. The trap is at the feet, but the eyes are not; a brighter object than earth can offer steadies and brightens the heart.
- Look to the One above the evil. This trust is not numbness to present trouble — it is confidence in the Lord Himself, who is over all of it.
- Look for Him to act. Snares are many and the writer cannot free himself; Only the Lord can pull his feet out. "He will pluck" rings out cheerfully from a man who knows his danger.
- Look down, Lord. The man who looks up then asks God to look down — at his affliction, his heart-trouble, his circumstances.
Turn toward me, and be gracious unto me; for I am solitary and afflicted.
David has just said his eyes are always toward the Lord, and now the psalm drops to a bare request: turn, be gracious. He gives no reason except his own condition — "lonely" (older versions: "desolate") and "afflicted" — and both words carry more weight than they seem to.
The Hebrew word here is yachid, the word used of an only son. One writer looked at every place it occurs and drew out what they share:
Wherever the Hebrew uses the word YACHID, and the Greek Old Testament translates it as MONOGENES, it puts an object before the mind in a single or solitary way. It may be an only son or daughter. It may be a son marked out by affection and honour in a human household, or one specially marked out in the purpose and ways of God, though in reality there were others in that human family. Or it may be someone placed in a unique position of loneliness, of aloneness, of being by himself.
So the plea is not vague sadness. It is the cry of someone who stands by himself, with no one beside him.
The verse reads as though God has looked away. One commentator saw the isolation itself as part of what God is doing, and connected it directly to the enlarged troubles named in the next verse:
Yet the evil presses hard, and matters seem as if God were looking away. Sorrow makes each of us an individual, and that is part of the good of it: in this way grace and God become individual to us too. The evil presses for attention. God allows it to be felt, and even to increase. Enlarged distresses — when they work under the good hand of God — purify and enlarge the heart. This is by no means their necessary effect, however: apart from Him, they may harden and narrow it. But then apart from Him, prosperity will do the same: nothing is good, except as He works in it and through it for good.
Notice what David does not say. He offers no merit and no promise of improvement — only what he is. One writer saw this emptiness as the way God works on a heart:
Our hearts hold such a depth of hardness, of dullness, of taking things lightly, that God has to take pains with them. He fixes them and brings them down to feel their own incapacity. God fixes the soul by the sense of its wants. We are so miserable that the only way to give us the idea of God's love is to fix the heart, through its wants, on what God is. Where the sense of want fails, the love of God is completely unknown, as if it did not exist.
The prayer grows more urgent, not calmer. Relief does not come at once. Verse 17 says the troubles grow larger. That is not a failure of the prayer:
The psalmist's prayer becomes all the more urgent as he cries to God to turn Himself to the afflicted and desolate sufferer. The trial drives him to the Lord, as is the reason for all of our troubles. If we are driven to the Lord there will be joy found as a result of the trial. His troubles were enlarged, so that he cries for deliverance (v. 17). Sometimes it is the way that when we seek deliverance, the trouble seems only to increase. But God knows how much we can stand, and will not add more than is needed for our good.
Some commentators read the end of this psalm as the voice of a people, not only of David. It closes with a plea for Israel, and that shapes how we hear the "I" of verse 16:
They are in distress, and a net has entangled their feet. They are desolate and afflicted, in affliction and pain. The burden of sin is upon them, and enemies hate them with cruel hatred. They look away from self and from man and are turning their eyes only to the Lord. From Him their deliverance must come. "Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles." And that prayer will be answered.
In the rest of the psalm, verse 16 begins an unburdening: "Desolate, heart burdened, and in deep soul exercise; afflicted, pained and conscious of failure." Out of that, the soul repeats its trust and its waiting (Hamilton Smith).
- Alone. "Desolate" translates a word that means single, solitary, one of a kind. It is the cry of someone standing by himself, not someone just feeling low.
- Isolated on purpose. Sorrow singles each of us out. That is part of its good, because it makes grace and God personal to us too.
- Emptiness is the plea. The prayer offers no merit, only need. God fixes the heart by the sense of its wants. Where that sense is missing, His love goes unknown.
- Pressure that drives. God may enlarge the troubles instead of removing them, yet He measures them, and they drive the soul to Him.
- One voice, many. The lonely "I" opens into "Redeem Israel" — a personal cry that ends in trust, waiting, and a deliverance still to come.
The troubles of my heart are increased bring me out of my distresses;
Enemies are at the psalmist's heels, and sorrow is multiplying inside him. He lays the whole of it open before God, which raises the question most sufferers ask: why does the pressure grow after we start praying?
One writer sets out the movement in these verses: the eyes go up, and the psalmist asks God's eyes to come down.
From the middle of all his trials the believer looks to God and trusts in the One who is above it all. He can say, "My eyes are ever toward the LORD". Looking up to the LORD, he asks the LORD to look down. He asks Him to see his afflictions, the troubles of his heart, and his distressing circumstances.
The word "enlarged" points one way: the troubles increased. One writer traces that back to God Himself, who sets both the measure and the purpose.
The trial drives him to the Lord, which is the reason for all of our troubles. If we are driven to the Lord, joy will come out of the trial. His troubles were enlarged, so that he cries for deliverance (v. 17). It is sometimes the way that when we seek deliverance, it seems the trouble only increases. But God knows how much we can stand, and will not add more than is necessary for our good. Was there any doubt that God looked on his affliction and his pain? Not at all. It was God who was measuring it in perfect wisdom.
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One writer traces the word behind "distress" to another psalm, and finds a physical picture in it.
The word for "distress" in the original is the same as that for "trouble" in the first verse of Psalm 3. It seems to carry in it the thought of tightness, narrowness, pressure.
That is the shape of the prayer: a man squeezed into a narrow place, asking to be brought out into room.
One writer turns the word "enlarged" back on the sufferer. The distresses grow, and under God's hand the heart grows with them. But that result is not automatic.
Sorrow makes each of us an individual, and that is part of the good of it: for in this way grace and God become individual too. The evil presses for attention. God allows it to be felt, and even to increase: enlarged distresses — when working under the good hand of God — purify and enlarge the heart. This is by no means their necessary effect, however: apart from Him, they may harden and narrow it. But then apart from Him, prosperity will do the same: nothing is good, except as He works in it and through it for good.
In this psalm the sufferer also owns his sin. He does not separate his pain from his guilt.
In Psalm 25 sin is confessed. This is what makes the difference for any soul in the present time... How can I go to Jehovah when I have been sinning? How can a man trust Jehovah with a bad conscience? Here is combined the expression of confession and of trust together. They can look for mercy. God never allows absolute despair in His people, though it is often very like it.
The psalmist does not free himself. Having spread everything open before God, he stops.
Realising that everything in himself, his circumstances, and his enemies is under the eye of the LORD, he can leave everything quietly with the LORD. He trusts in Him to keep his soul, while he waits for the time when the LORD will redeem His people from all their troubles.
- Pressure. The word for "distress" means tightness and narrowness. It is the prayer of a man with no room, asking God to bring him out into space.
- Enlarged. Troubles that grow are not proof that God has stopped listening. Under His hand, enlarged distresses purify and enlarge the heart. Apart from Him they can harden and narrow it instead.
- Measured. God knows how much we can stand and adds nothing beyond our good. He measures the trial in perfect wisdom, and it drives us to Him.
- Confessed. This psalm holds confession and trust together, so the sufferer can come to God with a bad conscience and still look for mercy.
- Released. Self, circumstances, enemies — all are under God's eye, so he can leave them there.
Consider mine affliction and my travail, and forgive all my sins.
In one breath the psalmist asks God to look at his trouble and to forgive his sins. Why do those two requests belong together?
The psalmist has just said that his eyes are always toward the LORD. Now he asks for a look in return.
From the middle of all his trials the believer looks to God and trusts in the One who is above it all. He can say, "My eyes are ever toward the LORD." He looks up to the LORD, and he asks the LORD to look down. He asks Him to see his afflictions, the troubles of his heart, and his distressing circumstances.
That upward look is not denial. He knows the danger is real, but he will not keep staring at it.
The net is at their feet, and yet their eyes are not there, but always above. A brighter object is before them than the earth can offer, and it steadies and brightens the heart. God also keeps their feet better than any human wisdom could. "He will pluck my feet out of the net" rings out with cheer from a man who knows his danger well. He has learned how much more sure he can be when he speaks of God than when he speaks of himself.
He holds nothing back. Affliction, sin, and enemies all come to God together.
Then, with an upright heart, the believer can bring his whole case before the LORD — his affliction and trouble, his sins, his enemies. As he waits on God, he looks to God to keep him upright.
The two halves of the verse are not separate topics laid side by side. As the trial deepens, the sense of sin deepens with it.
The result is that trial sifts a man and makes him known. In him, affliction and trouble tie themselves ever more closely to his sins, and his soul grows ever more aware of them. The enemies are there too, many and violent. He asks the LORD to look at it all, and not to put to shame the faith that can find refuge only in Himself.
The verse just before speaks of troubles growing larger, not smaller. That growth is no accident.
The evil presses for attention. God allows him to feel it, and even allows it to grow. Distress that grows under the good hand of God purifies the heart and makes it larger. This is by no means their necessary effect, however: apart from Him, they may harden and narrow it. But then apart from Him, prosperity will do the same: nothing is good, except as He works in it and through it for good.
Does asking God to look mean that He had not noticed?
Was there any doubt that God looked upon his affliction and his pain? Not at all. It was God who was measuring it in perfect wisdom. David adds, "and forgive all my sins" (v. 18). It is impossible for God to ignore such a prayer.
The psalmist is still asking for forgiveness. One writer points to the psalm where the answer comes.
Psalm 32 is the answer to Psalm 25. "Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered." "Covered" points back to the covering of the mercy seat. God puts sins away and remembers them no more. God holds this out before them as their hope. They will have the consciousness of forgiveness when they see Him. "In whose spirit there is no deceit"; in the forgiveness the deceit is all gone.
This verse shows a believer still praying to be forgiven. A Christian stands somewhere different.
The believers in the Psalms are marked by a consciousness of guilt: "Consider my affliction and my trouble, and forgive all my sins" (Ps. 25:18; see also Pss. 38:4; 40:12; 65:3). They do not have an unhindered relationship with God. How blessed we are as Christians, by contrast! We have "once been cleansed," so that we "no longer have any consciousness of sins." God has taken us into favour: He has "blessed us in the Beloved" (Eph. 1:6).
- Look up first. The net is at his feet, but his eyes are above it — and only then does he ask God to look down at what hurts.
- Bring the whole case. Affliction, sin, and enemies go to God together, with nothing kept back and nothing excused.
- Expect the link. Under trial, a believer feels his pain and his sin as tied together, and the sense of both grows sharper.
- Trust the measuring. God sees the pain and weighs it in perfect wisdom. Under His hand, growing distress enlarges the heart instead of shrinking it.
- Wait for the answer. The cry of Psalm 25 is answered in Psalm 32 — sin covered, remembered no more, and all deceit gone with it.
Consider mine enemies, for they are many, and they hate me [with] cruel hatred.
David names two facts about his enemies: how many they are, and how cruel their hatred is. He then asks God only to look — and what he leaves out of the prayer matters as much as what he puts in.
This psalm has already confessed sin, asked for teaching, and looked to God's mercy. The mention of enemies is the last item handed over in the same spirit.
The heart can present all the hostility of its enemies to God, and leave that also with Him. It looks to be not ashamed, for it has put its trust in Him.
The prayer stops at "consider." One writer sees wisdom in that limit, and points to the apostles praying the same way when enemies threatened them.
He asks the LORD to consider his enemies and their cruel hatred. He does not ask the LORD to judge them. To call down judgment upon our enemies may also call down the chastening rod upon ourselves. Far better to spread all before the LORD, and leave the LORD to act according to His perfect wisdom. In this spirit the Apostles acted. In New Testament days they stood in front of their enemies. They did not call down the LORD's judgment. They simply brought their trial to the LORD. "And now, Lord, look upon their threats."
Not asking out loud is only half the battle. The desire can survive inside, and it needs watching.
God avenges the wrongs done to His people. Knowing that is not meant to stir up in our hearts the smallest desire that His vengeance should overtake our enemies. We must watch against this as a secret desire. We easily count on God's vengeance falling on those who have injured us, and such expectations sit very close to hoping it will come… How much happier to forget them, and hand ourselves and all our affairs over to the Lord!
David could name the people lined up against him. One writer says the Christian faces enemies of a different kind.
"Consider how many are my foes," he says. Our enemies today are not people, but "the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" (Eph. 6:12). That is why we need "the whole armor of God." Their hatred is more cruel than that of all David's human enemies, and their methods more deceitful. Their main aim is to undermine faith in the living God. We see this in Satan's first temptation in Genesis 3:1-5, which deceived Eve. Every false religion has the same luring character, with evil spirits behind it. If we saw the hatred inside their smooth talk, we would pull back from it in godly fear.
Handing the matter over is not dropping it. One writer reads the psalm as the prayer of Israel in a future day of distress, and shows what happens when God looks.
Then God will answer the prayer of their distress in full. The Lord will consider their enemies (verse 19), and will see that they are His own enemies; and vengeance belongs to Him.
The psalm does not pretend the pressure is mild. Older translations call it "cruel hatred," and one writer lists it beside the trapped feet, the loneliness and the burden of sin found earlier in the psalm.
They are in distress. A net has caught their feet. They are lonely and afflicted, in pain and trouble. The burden of sin is on them, and enemies hate them with cruel hatred. They look away from self and from man and are turning their eyes only to the Lord. From Him their deliverance must come.
One writer sums up where this leaves the psalmist.
He realises that everything in himself, his circumstances, and his enemies is under the eye of the LORD. So he can leave it all with the LORD in peace. He trusts Him to keep his soul, while he waits for the time when the LORD will redeem His people from all their troubles.
- Counted — the enemies are many and their hatred is cruel. The psalm names the pressure, then turns the eyes to the Lord.
- Carried — the same heart that has confessed its own sin now hands over the hostility of others. It spreads it all before God and leaves it there.
- Considered, not condemned — the prayer asks God to look, not to judge. Calling down judgment on others can bring the chastening rod on ourselves.
- Cleansed — watch the wish for payback inside as well. Even a secret hope that vengeance will fall is already off course.
- Committed — vengeance belongs to God. Once every enemy is under His eye, the soul can rest and wait for Him to act in His own wisdom.
Keep my soul, and deliver me let me not be ashamed; for I trust in thee.
At the close of this psalm David lays his whole case before God, asking two things of Him and giving one reason for both. What does it mean to ask God to guard a soul, and why does a man who trusts God still fear being put to shame?
Nothing in David's trouble is hidden from God. That is what makes handing it all over possible.
He realises that everything in himself, his circumstances, and his enemies is under the eye of the LORD. So he can leave it all quietly with the LORD, trusting Him to keep his soul. Meanwhile he waits for the time when the LORD will redeem His people from all their troubles.
Writers note that the psalm as a whole moves this way — the pressure is not resolved by action but by placing the case where it belongs:
He lays his whole case before Jehovah… This psalm lays the whole case of the remnant before Jehovah in the expression to Him of a heart attracted and taught by grace.
David asks God to guard his soul. One writer explains why that matters more than bodily safety, and points to Eve as the pattern.
Preserving the body is a necessity, but preserving the soul matters even more. Satan aims his temptations at the soul. He seeks to move our emotions to disobey the truth. He did the same with Eve. He made her feel that God was not fair to keep from her something that was "good for food", "a delight to the eyes", and "to be desired to make one wise" (Gen. 3:6). Let us always be on our guard, so that things which appeal to our feelings do not deceive us. In fact, let us remember to pray that we may be delivered from enemies who tempt us in such ways.
Shame here is more than embarrassment. One writer names what actually brings it on.
At times we meet opposition and insults, and we trust in ourselves and our own efforts to pay back the insults and crush those who oppose us. We then find that we have exposed ourselves to shame and to the triumph of our enemies.
David gives God only one reason to answer: he has taken refuge in Him. One writer shows where such a heart looks when evil surrounds it.
The soul looks out beyond all the evil and trusts in Him who is above it all… It expects never to be put to shame, because it has put its trust in Him. Christ alone had to go through the opposite for us; the upright soul never will.
David asks God to do the keeping. Learning who keeps us changes daily life.
It is an immense relief to the soul to learn that it is God who keeps. As soon as we grasp this lesson, all anxiety and all fear cease at once. Instead of tormenting itself with constant fears, the soul looks up to God in childlike confidence. It leans on Him for daily preservation, just as it did at first for salvation.
David asks not to be put to shame. One writer notes that the New Testament turns that prayer into a settled fact for the believer.
"…O Lord, let me not be put to shame" need never be the prayer of the New Testament believer. We are assured that "whoever believes in him will not be put to shame" (Rom. 9:33).
That confidence rests on God's character rather than on circumstances improving:
He will never disappoint your expectations. He may test you, keep you waiting, pass you through many sorrows and trials, but He will never forget you or give you up.
- Trust names the ground. The only reason David gives is that he has taken refuge in God.
- Trust asks for the soul. The deeper danger is not bodily harm but the enemy's appeal to our feelings. So David also asks God to rescue him from those who tempt him.
- Trust hands over the case. Circumstances, enemies and self are all under God's eye. David leaves them there instead of managing them himself.
- Trust receives keeping. God does the keeping. Knowing that replaces constant fear with childlike confidence.
- Trust is never shamed. What David asks for, the believer is now assured of — the one who believes will not be put to shame.
Let integrity and uprightness preserve me; for I wait on thee.
David closes this psalm by asking that integrity and uprightness would keep him. Earlier in the same psalm he confessed his sin and asked God to teach him, so these two words are no boast — and the only reason he gives is that he waits for God.
One writer takes the two words apart. Integrity has to do with motive, uprightness with the way a person acts.
Two things mark a believer here and preserve him: integrity and uprightness (v. 21). God is the Author of both. Integrity is simple, honorable motive, and it guards against the double-dealing of evil spirits. Uprightness is the opposite of underhandedness. It is firm decision in doing what is right. It does not lean one way or the other, because a person standing upright leans neither way. "For I wait for You." So there is no forcing of oneself. Instead there is the faith that waits for God to show things as they are.
Earlier in this psalm David asked God to pardon his guilt, "for it is great." The two do not cancel each other out. Integrity here means truth of heart with God, not a claim to be sinless.
While going through the evil, the soul trusts in Jehovah and in His faithful love… There is truth of heart with Jehovah. But that assumes integrity, and integrity is found here. In Christ it is found in those who are true of heart, even though they confess that in themselves they are the chief of sinners, and that in their flesh there is nothing good. The heart can lay all the hostility of its enemies before God, and leave that with Him too.
Waiting means the soul has stopped building its own road to God. One writer says a soul still building that road cannot say these words.
But such a soul is not convinced that God is love. Nor is it in God's presence with a true knowledge of itself. It has not been humbled, so it picks its own way to reach God, and it cannot say, "I wait for you," as in verses 5 and 21. Only when we are convinced that it is no question of getting to God — that we are in His presence, and lost — can we say, "For your name's sake, O LORD, pardon my guilt, for it is great." Then we no longer think of improving our conduct to reach God. There is no more road to pave.
The verse ends a prayer, and one writer ties uprightness straight to praying. God expects us to come to Him with nothing hidden.
In prayer, though, we must remember that God expects us to come before Him with an upright heart. The psalmist says, "If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, the Lord would not have listened." There must be integrity. We must not cover up evil. We must judge sin and deal with it honestly before Him. The upright soul hates what is evil and holds on to what is good, and God keeps back nothing good from such a soul. "No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly."
Nothing about him is outside God's sight, so he can hand the whole case over to God.
He realises that everything in himself, his circumstances and his enemies is under the eye of the LORD. So he can leave it all with the LORD, trusting Him to keep his soul, while he waits for the time when the LORD will redeem His people from all their troubles.
These words are also a bridge. One writer traces how they carry into the next psalm.
Notice how all the psalms in this series lead into one another. The "integrity and uprightness" at the end of Psalm 25 begins Psalm 26, and is its main theme.
- Given, not grown. Integrity is honest motive. Uprightness is steady action. God is the Author of both, so they are gifts before they are achievements.
- Honest, not sinless. The man pleading integrity has just called his guilt great. Truth of heart with God and confession of sin belong together.
- Waiting, not paving. His one reason is that he waits. A soul still choosing its own road to God cannot say this line at all.
- Open, not cloaked. Uprightness keeps prayer honest. Judge sin instead of hiding it, and God holds back no good thing from those who walk that way.
- Handed over, not held. Everything he is and everything he faces stands under God's eye. He leaves the whole case with God, and the next psalm carries the theme forward.
Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles.
Psalm 25 has been one man's prayer — asking God to teach him, forgive him, and keep him. Then the last line prays for a whole nation, which raises two questions: why does a private prayer end this way, and why does it still look unanswered?
The last verse carries the prayer outward. The writer has admitted the sins of his youth and asked God for mercy. Now he asks the same mercy for the people he belongs to.
He casts himself completely on the goodness and kindness of the One against whom he has sinned... He is a sinner, and he admits the wrongs of his earlier days. Yet he is one who fears the Lord, so he can cry to Him for deliverance. He waits for that deliverance, counting on integrity and uprightness to keep him. The godly remnant, of whom he is one, will share in this too. So he prays, "Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles."
Closeness to God widens a person's concern instead of narrowing it.
The heart can present all the hostility of its enemies to God, and leave that with Him too. It expects not to be put to shame, for it has put its trust in Him... But the heart that has this intimacy with God and confidence in Him does not forget His people Israel — for us, the church. The heart is with them, and if it is intimate with God, it must be.
Psalm 25 is built on the Hebrew alphabet, one letter per verse. Verse 22 sits outside that pattern. It is an extra line, and Psalm 34 ends the same way.
Psalms 25 and 34 are the next two. They are both similar in structure and order, and both have 22 verses. It is striking that they leave out one letter, Vau, and that they add to the last verse the letter Pē, which is the sixth from the end in the alphabet. Both of these final verses speak of redemption.
Commentators read this psalm as more than one man's experience. They see a faithful group within Israel — a remnant — with Christ Himself speaking for them.
In Psalm 25 Christ speaks as the head of the remnant, so to speak... He enters into the spirit of God's real and only possible way of dealing with Israel: "that he might have mercy upon all." Christ had come for the truth of God to confirm the promises, but Israel refused Him, and now Israel must come in under mercy. This the remnant understand... They know Israel has no excuse for their sin. So their forgiveness rests on the name of the Lord, the only sure ground... and, finally, Israel will be redeemed (this is the desire) out of all his troubles.
Here is the reason the prayer appears to go unanswered. The same request appears again later in the Psalms. One word has changed: troubles become iniquities.
He not only forgives but redeems. "He shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities." In a much earlier Psalm there had been the cry, "Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles" (Ps. 25:22). But troubles are, after all, only symptoms and results, while iniquities are the cause.
That order — cause first, then symptom — decides the timing of the answer.
The great work needed for the redemption of poor Israel from all their iniquities has been done. But it has not yet been applied in all its fullness, although it will be in a coming day. The day will come when we shall see Israel redeemed from his troubles. That will be because he is redeemed from his iniquities, or sins. This sin underlies the troubles.
The psalm ends without the answer in hand. But it has a settled place to leave the whole matter.
He realises that everything in himself, his circumstances, and his enemies is under the eye of the LORD. So he can leave everything quietly with the LORD, trusting Him to keep his soul. Meanwhile he waits for the time when the LORD will redeem His people from all their troubles.
And the waiting is not uncertain.
They look away from self and from man and turn their eyes only to the Lord. Their deliverance must come from Him. "Redeem Israel, O God, out of all his troubles." And that prayer will be answered.
- Root — Troubles are symptoms; iniquity is the cause. A prayer aimed only at the trouble leaves the disease untouched.
- Redemption — Psalm 25 asks God to rescue Israel from troubles. A later psalm promises rescue from sins, and that is the deeper answer.
- Reach — The prayer starts with "me" and ends with "Israel." Real closeness to God widens the heart to His whole people.
- Remnant — This is also the cry of a faithful group in Israel. They admit their nation's guilt and rest their forgiveness on God's name alone.
- Rest — Self, circumstances and enemies are all under God's eye. So the psalm ends in quiet waiting, and that prayer will be answered.
([A Psalm] of David.) Judge me, O Jehovah, for I have walked in mine integrity, and I have confided in Jehovah I shall not slip.
Psalm 26 opens with a bold request: David asks God to examine his case and clear his name. It raises hard questions. How can anyone ask God to test him on the ground of his own integrity? And what is left for a person who knows he has failed?
The psalm does not stand alone. It follows a psalm of confession, and one writer reads the two as cause and effect.
In Psalm 25, there is confidence in the grace and righteousness of God, and this leads to the confession of sins. We see the result in this psalm. Once sins are confessed, there is a sense of integrity before God, separation from evil associations, worship, and witness.
He wants God to clear his name. One writer says God does answer such honest prayers. He also warns against making our own integrity the usual ground of appeal.
It is true that God honors the integrity that honestly honors Him. He will certainly answer such a prayer as the psalmist makes in verse 1, and He will judge in his favor when He knows the prayer is honest. Still, it is generally wiser for us to appeal to the pure grace of God than to base our appeals on our integrity. If we are not guilty of evil, and yet are accused of it, we naturally want to be cleared. Yet even the Lord Jesus received no public vindication while He was on earth. His resurrection was a perfect vindication from God.
"Integrity" here does not mean a flawless record. One writer reads it as the prayer of God's faithful people at a time when most of the nation had turned away from God.
This is the faithful few among God's people. What they plead is not exactly moral perfection, but uprightness of heart, and that uprightness has led them away from the part of the nation that has abandoned God. They hate the company of evildoers, and for that reason they look to God to vindicate them. No Christian believer pleads on such grounds with God. We plead that worthy Name, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Commentators differ on how far a believer today may pray this way. Gaebelein rules it out. Grant allows that God honours honest integrity, but still points to grace as the safer ground.
The verse pairs two things: a walk in integrity and trust in the Lord. Trust is what holds him steady. It is also why he can invite God to search him.
Psalm 26 is especially the pleading of integrity and trust in Jehovah. Having trusted Him, the godly would surely not slide. He invites Jehovah to search his inmost heart, as Peter did even after he had fallen. Even here, the goodness of Jehovah was still his first motive.
The same man who claims integrity also throws himself on God's mercy. One writer sees that mix as a sign of health, not a contradiction.
In the middle of these claims of integrity, he casts himself on the mercy and redemption of God. That shows a very right state of soul.
The verse ends with a confidence that never gives way. One writer says only one man could claim that perfectly.
Such a claim could be perfectly true only of the Lord Jesus, for we know that in some things David did slip, though God generally kept him from serious evil.
Another writer looks at the purity that stands behind this appeal.
Verses 1 and 2 express the purity and spotlessness of the Man who could make this appeal to the Judge of all on the ground of personal integrity. All the while Jehovah was His support and His confidence, as He walked with a whole heart in His fear. Jesus only could make this appeal. Everything in the Just One was willingly open and exposed to the eye of divine holiness.
The rest of the psalm works this claim out as a break with evil company. One writer explains why that step follows once a person belongs to God.
First of all we must learn the grace that alone gives us confidence to lay hold of God at all. But once we have learned it, we have crossed the line that divides the world into two companies. We have become His, and most people are, sadly, hostile to Him. From then on we can only go on with God if we separate from evildoers. This is the principle of the psalm before us... Scripture makes much of the company we keep, though even Christians make light of it today.
- Confession first. You can only plead integrity after you have owned your sins. Integrity grows out of grace; it never replaces it.
- Integrity next. The word means uprightness of heart, not moral perfection. It is a life that will not shrink from God's search.
- Trust holds. The steadiness of the closing phrase rests on trust in the Lord, not on the strength of the walk itself.
- Separation follows. Belonging to God draws a line through the world. Refusing the company of evildoers is how integrity shows itself.
- Christ completes it. Only Jesus could make this appeal with nothing held back. God vindicated Him by raising Him from the dead. So believers today plead His name and His grace.
Prove me, Jehovah, and test me; try my reins and my heart
In the psalm before this one, David confessed his sin. Now he asks God to search what no one else can see — a bold prayer, and not one everyone can pray.
The order matters here. Pardon comes first, and integrity comes with it.
Integrity is the inseparable companion of pardon. So it will be with the Jews at the end of the age, and so it is with the Christian now. If there is faith, there is also repentance.
So his confidence rests on God's goodness, not on a clean record. One writer finds the same in Peter, after his own failure.
Psalm 26 is especially the pleading of integrity and trust in Jehovah. Having trusted Him, the godly one would surely not slip. He invites Jehovah to search his inmost heart, as Peter did even though he had fallen. Here, still, the goodness of Jehovah was his first motive... Though integrity was pleaded, redemption is sought, and mercy.
The ESV says "heart and mind" here. Older versions read "reins and heart," and the writers below use "reins." The word has nothing to do with control or direction. It names a part of the body.
The kidneys, used symbolically for the inward thoughts and feelings.
So the verse covers the hidden person: the deepest thoughts and the feelings. He does not offer his record. He offers where it comes from.
Sure that this is his real condition, he can appeal to God to try him: to test his reins (his inmost thoughts) and his heart. He has learned in the mercy of God to fear Him, and he himself has walked in the truth he knows in Him.
Translations differ here. One reads the second half of the verse as "purify my reins and my heart" rather than "try" (William Kelly). The testing aims at cleansing, not only at inspection.
Anyone can repeat this prayer. Not everyone can mean it.
In verse 2 he invites the Lord to examine him. One cannot honestly do this if he is careless about his walk and ways. Yet David even asks that the Lord would try his mind and his heart. What was his mind set on? Today we are told, "Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth" (Col. 3:2). Do we ask the Lord to judge whether we are doing this or not? Are we willing to have the desires of our hearts tested by God's measure of wisdom and truth?
God tests by His own word. It does the opposite of what human words do.
The word of man flatters our nature and entertains our mind. The word of God tries the reins and the heart. It awakens and searches the conscience. It proves what and where I am. And, more important still, it presents the remedy for my soul's disease.
Commentators differ on how far a believer today should copy this way of praying. One writer notes that the psalmist stands under law. A Christian, he says, would not plead with God on that ground.
A work of God has gone on in his soul. We clearly have before us one born of God. But he is under law, and rightly so, and can speak of his integrity and uprightness... So in Psalm 26 he asks Jehovah to judge him, for he has walked in his integrity. He then lists what his ways and desires have been. Now a Christian, it is plain, if he understands the truth, will not plead on such ground with God.
Another writer holds that God honours honest integrity and answers such a prayer. Even so, he thinks it wiser to appeal to God's pure grace than to our own integrity (L M Grant).
This prayer sits inside a larger change. Grace makes a person God's own, and that draws a line through the world.
We must first learn the grace which alone gives us confidence to lay hold of God at all. But once we have learned this, we have passed the line that divides the world into two companies. We have become His, and the mass of men are, sadly, hostile to Him. From then on, separation from evildoers becomes the necessary condition of going on with God.
- Pardon first. The examination comes after confession, not instead of it. Integrity always goes with pardon.
- Depth next. "Reins" means the kidneys, a picture of the inward thoughts and feelings. He opens his inner life, not just his conduct.
- Honesty required. No one can mean this prayer while careless about his ways. It hands your desires over to God's measure of wisdom and truth.
- Word as probe. Human words flatter; God's word tries the reins and the heart, proves what and where you are, and offers the remedy.
- Separation as result. Once grace has made you God's own, leaving evildoers is the condition of going on with Him.
For thy loving-kindness is before mine eyes, and I have walked in thy truth.
The psalmist has just asked God to test his heart and mind. This verse gives his reason for daring to say it: God's love held in view, and God's faithfulness as the path he walks. The order matters.
Verse 2 is a bold ask. Verse 3 explains why the psalmist can make it without fear. Where the ESV reads "I walk in your faithfulness," the older translation these writers quote has "I have walked in Your truth."
The psalmist then states the grounds on which he invites the searchings of the Lord. First, the loving kindness of the Lord is before his soul. He knows there is grace with the Lord to meet all that the Lord's searching may uncover. Second, his daily ways are what suit a godly man: he can say, "I have walked in Your truth." Third, he had kept himself separate from sinners in practice.
The psalm as a whole pleads uprightness. Yet what is named first is not the psalmist's record but God's kindness.
Psalm 26 is especially the pleading of integrity and trust in Jehovah. Having trusted Him, the godly would surely not slide. He invites Jehovah to search his inmost heart, as Peter did, even after his own fall. Here, still the goodness of Jehovah was his first motive.
The second half of the verse is not a separate boast. It grows out of the first half — what he has taken in of God is what he then lives.
We have first the plea of integrity, which is the companion and also the fruit of faith. ... He has learned in the mercy of God to fear Him, and in the truth which he realizes in Him he has walked himself.
The verses that follow (4–5) grow straight out of verse 3. They show what walking in God's faithfulness looks like among other people.
So his path is now, of necessity, only with those who follow what is true. He does not go with the false and the pretenders; and gatherings of evil-doers, brought together by their shared wickedness, he refuses and hates.
Separation is not the end of it.
In verses 6 to 8 the psalmist speaks of the results that flow from walking in the truth, and in maintaining separation from evil. First, he can, with clean hands, approach God's altar for worship; secondly, he can bear witness before the world of all God's wondrous works.
Commentators are careful here. They call the appeal to your own uprightness real, but they put grace first.
First of all we must learn the grace which alone gives us confidence to lay hold of God at all. But once we have learned it, we have crossed the line that divides the world into two companies. We have become His, and the mass of men are, alas, hostile to Him. From now on, separation from evil-doers becomes the necessary condition of going on with God. This is the principle of the psalm before us, and the soul's plea is that it has kept to it: I have separated myself from sinners; do not join me with them. That is a true ground of confidence before God, though plainly a secondary one.
That caution shapes how we pray.
It is true that God honors the integrity that honestly honors Him. He will certainly answer such a prayer as that of the psalmist in verse 1, and will judge in his favor when He knows the prayer is honest. Yet it is generally wiser for us to appeal simply to the pure grace of God than to base our appeals on our integrity.
One writer sees the psalm's claim of personal integrity as fitting only one Man.
Verses 1, 2 express the purity and spotlessness of the Man who could appeal to the judge of all on the ground of personal integrity. Jehovah was always His stay and confidence as He walked with a whole heart in His fear. Jesus only could make this appeal. Everything in the Just One was willingly naked and open to the eye of Divine holiness.
- Love first. The psalmist keeps God's steadfast love in view. That love, not his own record, is his first motive.
- Love frees the search. He can ask God to test his heart because there is grace with the Lord to meet whatever the testing turns up.
- Love becomes walk. What he has learned of God's mercy is the very truth he then walks in — integrity is the fruit of faith, not its foundation.
- Walk decides company. Walking in God's faithfulness turns him away from the false and the pretenders. It turns him toward God's altar, for worship and witness.
- Love outranks the plea. Pleading your integrity is a real ground of confidence, but a secondary one. Grace is the wiser appeal, and only Jesus could make the claim perfectly.
I have not sat with vain persons, neither have I gone in with dissemblers;
Psalm 26 is the prayer of a man who asks God to examine him. Verse 4 is part of his answer. It raises a question every believer faces. If God tested your walk, would your choice of company help your case or sink it?
This psalm does not stand alone. One writer reads it alongside the psalm before it, where the same speaker owns his sin.
Psalm 25 owns the sin. Psalm 26 pleads sincere integrity, and asks not to be shut in with the wicked of that day.
The two belong together, and not only for Israel. Pardon never comes alone.
Integrity always comes with pardon. So it will be with the Jews at the end of the age, and so it is with the Christian now. If there is faith, there is also repentance.
The verse names two kinds of people. One writer uses an older translation, which calls them idolaters and pretenders. He treats the refusal to sit with them as the natural fruit of an honest life.
When someone honestly walks in the truth, the negatives of verses 4 and 5 are to be expected: "I have not sat with idolatrous mortals, nor will I go with hypocrites..." Let every believer separate completely from such evils.
Sitting down with someone is a small act. Scripture treats it as a large one, because the world already reads people this way.
Scripture, in the Old Testament and in the New, makes much of who we keep company with. It has to, because this is a principle of the greatest moral weight. The world notices it too, in its own way, and comments on it as Scripture does. "Birds of a feather flock together." "Tell me who your companions are, and I will tell you who you are." So our associations put us in a class of our own choosing. And spiritual life is very sensitive to the air it breathes. We all know that in Christ's name, and for His sake, we may go boldly into the worst places of vice, if He calls us there. And we all know enough to tell that apart from joining ourselves to evil. But the smallest link we choose for ourselves is a most serious thing.
Note the line the writer draws. Going where sinners are because Christ sends you is one thing. Choosing a link with evil is another.
Two Old Testament men make the danger concrete.
Experience teaches us, no less than Scripture does, that we cannot keep personal holiness and spiritual fitness while we are linked with evil. Righteous Lot may tie himself to Sodom. God-fearing Jehoshaphat may make an alliance with Ahab, who worshipped Baal. Both end up lowered and defiled, without fail. It will be the same for us today. So let us be warned.
Both men genuinely feared God. Neither survived the alliance unstained.
Read on its own, verse 4 could sound like mere avoidance. But the refusal has a positive purpose behind it.
This section shows the nature of the separation just declared, and the only spirit in which it can be kept. We cannot bring defilement into the presence of God. We cannot force the holy into communion with the unholy. Sadly, in trying to do it, we can fall from communion ourselves. True separation from evil is for the sake of separation to God. It grows out of real sanctification and joins itself to it.
A stronger pull towards God creates the pull away from evil company.
David can plead this; only One could plead it without qualification.
Verses 3-6 are the account given by the approved and perfect Servant to the LORD as Judge. It is a short record of the moral purity and harmless life that the Son of God showed here on earth as Man... But Jesus was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners — in Himself, and according to the true reality of His own Person.
- Pardon — forgiveness and a straight walk arrive together. Where there is faith, there is also repentance.
- Proof — an honest walk shows itself first in what a person refuses: no seat with the false, no company with pretenders.
- Company — associations are self-classification. Going among sinners because Christ sends you is not the same as a voluntary link with evil.
- Defilement — Lot with Sodom, Jehoshaphat with Ahab: the alliances they chose dragged both men down.
- Destination — separation from evil exists for the sake of separation to God. We leave one company because a better one draws us.
I have hated the congregation of evil-doers, and I have not sat with the wicked.
The words are a flat refusal: the psalmist names a crowd he has turned his back on, and a seat he will never take. Two questions follow: can a person plead his own separation before God without pride, and can hatred of a group ever be holy?
Here the plea is integrity, not forgiveness. The refusal grows out of attachment to God, not distaste for people.
In Psalm 26 it is, as already noted, the consciousness of integrity rather than the confession of sins. But here too everything refers to Jehovah. From what Jehovah is, and from the soul's attachment to Him, it draws the principle of separation from evildoers, and final joy in His congregation when there will be full deliverance from them.
This refusal is not where the life of faith starts. It is what the start makes necessary.
We must first of all learn the grace that alone gives us confidence to take hold of God at all. But once we have learned it, we have crossed the line that divides the world into two companies. We have become His, and the mass of men are, sadly, hostile to Him. From then on, separation from evildoers becomes the necessary condition of going on with God. This is the principle of the psalm before us. Conformity to it is the plea the soul puts forward: I have separated myself from sinners; do not unite me with them. It is a true ground of confidence before God, though plainly a secondary one.
The psalmist appeals to where he sits, because a seat is a statement even the world knows how to read.
Scripture, both in the Old Testament and the New, makes much of association. It has to, because it is a principle of the greatest moral weight. The world notices it in its own way, and comments on it as Scripture does. "Birds of a feather flock together." Our associations are a kind of self-classification, and the spiritual life is very sensitive to the air it breathes. We all know that in Christ's name, and for His sake, we may go boldly into the worst places of evil, if He calls us there. And we all know enough to tell that apart from association with evil. But the smallest voluntary link is a very serious thing.
This hatred is not a wish for anyone's ruin as a soul. It turns first on the person who feels it.
Christians do not desire their ruin as souls, and neither does God. But looked at as wicked, as haters of the Lord, one does desire their removal by judgment. One abhors them as such, and rejoices when they are taken away from corrupting and destroying the earth. But if this desire for their judgment is holiness and righteousness, not self-will, we will desire the full searching out of evil in ourselves. It is the hatred of evil under the eye of an all-seeing God.
This hatred can be faked in two directions. Love can become the excuse for ignoring evil, and hatred of evil can blind us to the good.
Love and abhorrence of evil will always be found together. The Psalmist says, "You who love the LORD, hate evil" (Ps. 97:10). A false charity may ignore evil under the excuse of love, and may even treat evil doctrine about the Lord as a small matter. Genuine love will lead us to abhor evil without ignoring the good. In our abhorrence of evil we may overlook much good; or, in seeking to hold on to the good, we may compromise with evil.
Leaving one company is only half the movement. What the refusal moves toward is the test of whether it is real.
This part of the psalm shows the nature of the separation just declared, and the only spirit in which it can be rightly kept. We cannot bring defilement into the presence of God. We cannot force the holy into fellowship with the unholy. Sadly, in trying to do so, we can fall from fellowship ourselves. True separation from evil aims at separation to God. It springs out of, and joins itself with, all real sanctification.
The plea here is uprightness of heart, not a claim to be sinless. Commentators differ over how far a Christian can stand on such ground at all.
It is the godly part of the nation pleading, not exactly moral perfection, but uprightness of heart, which has led them apart from the unfaithful. They hate the congregation of evildoers, and because of this they look for divine vindication. No Christian believer pleads on such grounds with God. We plead that worthy Name, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Yet the practical edge remains. Honesty in the truth produces exactly these refusals:
When one honestly walks in the truth, the negatives of verses 4 and 5 are to be expected... Let every believer separate fully from such evils.
- Grace first. Confidence to approach God comes before any plea of integrity; separation is the second step, never the first.
- Then division. Belonging to God puts you on one side of a line, and going on with Him means leaving the other.
- Then company. Where you sit classifies you, and the world reads it that way too — but going somewhere at Christ's call is not the same as belonging there.
- Then hatred, aimed. The loathing is of evil under God's eye, and it turns the searchlight on yourself before it turns on anyone else.
- Then God Himself. Separation from evil is only real when it is separation to God — a refusal that ends in fellowship with Him, not isolation.
I will wash my hands in innocency, and will encompass thine altar, O Jehovah,
The psalm has just recorded a refusal — no seat with the worthless, no company with the wicked. Now it turns to what the psalmist moves toward, and asks what makes a person fit to come near God.
The gesture is borrowed from an old legal ceremony, where washing the hands was a public oath that you had no part in a crime. One writer traces the image and shows what the psalmist is pledging as he brings his offering.
The first point here is "innocency." The washing of the hands is a picture taken from the rule in Deuteronomy (Deut. 21:6), where the elders wash their hands to declare their innocence of a murder near their city. So the psalmist is ready to pledge in the same way that he brings no defilement to Jehovah's altar, where his praise-offering is to be offered. But who could praise Jehovah, lifting up unclean hands to Him? And this is with the psalmist no mere outward homage. His heart is won.
This verse is not a footnote to the refusals before it. It is their purpose, and the same writer names what completes them.
It shows the nature of the separation just declared, and the only right spirit in which it can be kept. We cannot bring defilement into the presence of God. We cannot force the holy into communion with the unholy. We can, sadly, in trying to do so, fall ourselves from communion. True separation from evil is in order to separation to God. It springs out of, and unites itself with, all real sanctification.
The altar is not an afterthought in the line. It is the one place where washing the hands means anything, and one writer says why.
The true place to wash the hands is where the blood of atonement has forever paid for our guilt.
The same act can be done as theatre. One writer sets the psalm beside the most famous hand-washing in the Bible and shows why one is real and the other is empty.
Pilate washed his hands and declared himself innocent of the blood of the Lord Jesus. Yet at once he took on blood guilt by giving up the Lord Jesus to be crucified (Matt. 27:24). So his washing his hands was mere hypocrisy. Instead, let our symbolic hand-washing be genuine — our "lifting up holy hands" (1 Tim. 2:8), that is, showing works that are clean from any defilement. This is essential if we are to have any contact with God's altar, which speaks of Christ as the only way of approach to God.
Israel's priests were washed all over when they were first set apart, and then washed hands and feet again every day at the basin in the courtyard. That daily washing is the pattern this verse follows.
It was not enough for God's priests that they had undergone a total washing at their consecration (Ex. 29:4); they had to wash their hands and feet day by day. The total washing (referred to, no doubt, by the Apostle in Heb. 10:22) pictures the new birth, which every believer in Jesus has experienced through grace. This has made us fit in nature to draw near to God. But the basin teaches us that we must be fit in practice too, so that we truly enjoy His presence.
Clean hands are not the end of the matter. One writer names the two things they lead to.
In verses 6 to 8 the psalmist speaks of the results that flow from walking in the truth and from keeping separate from evil. First, with clean hands he can approach God's altar for worship. Second, he can bear witness before the world to all God's wonderful works.
Confessing sin and claiming integrity can look like opposites. One writer traces both to one source.
The very same Spirit of Christ that leads to confession of sin also takes the ground of thorough integrity. It takes the ground of hating to be in the congregation of the wicked, or to have anything to do with those who did not fear Jehovah. It takes the ground of washing their hands in innocency, and so surrounding His altar. These things all go together.
- Pledge — Washing the hands was a public oath of innocence, taken from the elders in Deuteronomy 21:6. The psalmist swears he brings no defilement to God's altar.
- Direction — Refusing evil company is only the first half; "true separation from evil is in order to separation to God."
- Ground — Only the altar makes the washing real. It is "where the blood of atonement has forever paid for our guilt."
- Practice — Priests were washed once when set apart, then daily at the basin. New birth makes us fit in nature; daily washing keeps us fit in practice.
- Purpose — Clean hands are the doorway, not the goal. They lead to worship at the altar and to telling the world God's wonderful works.
That I may cause the voice of thanksgiving to be heard, and declare all thy marvellous works.
Verse 6 leaves the psalmist with washed hands at God's altar. Verse 7 gives the reason for the washing: it opens a mouth. What does that voice say, and who finally sings it?
Turning away from the wicked is not where the psalm stops. One writer shows what that turning away is for.
It shows the nature of the separation just declared and the spirit in which alone it can be rightly observed. We cannot bring defilement into the presence of God. We cannot force the holy into fellowship with the unholy. Sadly, in trying to do so, we can fall from fellowship ourselves. True separation from evil is for the sake of separation to God. It springs out of and unites itself with all real sanctification.
The washing comes from a legal custom, and it prepares for one particular offering.
The first point here is "innocency," the washing of the hands being an expression taken from the ordinance in Deuteronomy (Deut. 21:6), where the elders wash their hands to attest that they are innocent of a murder near their city. So the psalmist declares that he is ready to pledge himself in the same way. He brings no defilement to Jehovah's altar, where he will offer his praise-offering (Lev. 7:11). But who could praise Jehovah while lifting up unclean hands to Him?
Another commentator points to Pilate, the governor who washed his hands to declare himself innocent of the blood of Jesus, then handed Him over to be crucified.
Thus, his washing his hands was mere hypocrisy. Let us be true to the fact when we wash our hands in this picture, or "lift up holy hands" (1 Tim. 2:8) — that is, when we show works that are clean from any defilement. This is essential if we are to have any contact with God's altar, which speaks of Christ as the only way of approach to God.
The verse holds two actions that face in different directions.
In verses 6 to 8 the psalmist speaks of the results that flow from walking in the truth, and from maintaining separation from evil. First, he can, with clean hands, approach God's altar for worship; secondly, he can bear witness before the world of all God's wondrous works.
The same writer adds that this path is not a safe one.
Separation from evil, devotion to God, and witness for God will stir up opposition. It comes from sinners and violent men, with their evil schemes and corruption. So the soul asks God for protection from them.
Thanksgiving here is not a mood that comes and goes.
Such approach will always be in a spirit of thanksgiving (v. 7). With it goes the precious exercise of soul in "telling all your wondrous deeds." This is the third section of the psalm, so it carries the same meaning as the book of Leviticus, where the praises of God are dominant.
Commentators differ in how far they press this verse toward Christ. One hears the anointed Priest leading the praise.
In the seventh verse the divine glory is declared and praised in the praises of the anointed Priest and minister of all blessing. While on earth, Jesus made one of His last requests to the Father: "Glorify your Son, that your Son also may glorify you" (John 17). His exaltation at the right hand of the throne of heavenly majesty is "to the glory of God the Father" (Phil. 2:11). The church already knows this. By the Spirit she learns the true note of divine praise from the lips of the firstborn from the dead (Heb. 2:12). But this publishing of Jehovah's praise is not limited to the church. She learns and utters that sweet strain even now, though feebly, but in a language the world has not yet learned.
The psalm does not leave that voice alone. By its close, it has joined a crowd.
In the sunny, open high ground the child of God finds his inheritance and blessing. There the foot that does not walk with evildoers now stands firm. In the gatherings of Jehovah's people the soul is free to praise the One who is in unchangeable covenant with them all. So he has his company. Choosing where God has chosen, he joins the concert of praise where no one can be silent — where every separate note is in harmony with the universal song.
- Clean — washing the hands is a public pledge that nothing unclean comes to the altar. Unclean hands cannot lift praise.
- Close — separation from evil is never the goal in itself. It exists to bring you near to God.
- Voice — clean hands open two doors at once: worship at the altar, and witness to the world about what God has done.
- Cost — that same devotion and witness stirs up opposition. So the psalm turns straight to prayer for protection.
- Choir — the note begins at the altar and ends in the gathered congregation. There the separated foot stands firm, and one voice joins the universal song.
Jehovah, I have loved the habitation of thy house, and the place where thy glory dwelleth.
Psalm 26 is a prayer asking God to examine him, and by verse 8 the testing turns into affection. What he loves most is the place where God lives among His people — but why should a heart love a place at all?
The verse names two things about the same spot: it is God's dwelling, and it is where His glory is at home. One writer explains what that glory is.
The attractiveness of God's dwelling-place comes before us in Psalm 26, which again speaks of the house. The psalm calls it "the habitation of your house," which seems to stress that this is Jehovah's dwelling among the people of Israel. It is also "the place where your glory dwells." Glory is the outshining of excellence. When the saints are glorified it will be the outshining of an excellence which has been given to them. With God it is the outshining of excellence that is His own. All creation declares His glory, except the parts of it that sin has invaded; yet there is a spot where His glory is concentrated. That spot is His house.
Verse 8 does not stand alone. It follows the washing of hands at the altar. One commentator explains where that picture comes from.
The first point here is "innocency," the washing of the hands being an expression taken from the ordinance in Deuteronomy (Deut. 21:6), where the elders wash their hands to declare that they had no part in a murder near their city. So the psalmist declares he is ready to pledge in the same way that he brings no defilement to Jehovah's altar, where he is to offer his praise-offering (Lev. 7:11 and following). But who could praise Jehovah, lifting up unclean hands to Him? And with the psalmist this is no mere outward homage. His heart is won: he has loved the habitation of Jehovah's house, and the place where His glory dwells.
Read in the flow of the psalm, this love is not an isolated feeling but the fruit of a certain kind of walk.
In verses 6 to 8 the psalmist speaks of the results that flow from walking in the truth, and from keeping separate from evil. First, he can approach God's altar for worship with clean hands; second, he can bear witness before the world of all God's wonderful works.
One writer looks at Jacob, who found God's house frightening. The contrast with this verse is the difference between fear and rest.
Jacob's heart was not at home in the presence of God; nor can any heart be so until it has been thoroughly emptied and broken. God is at home, blessed be His name, with a broken heart, and a broken heart is at home with Him... "Perfect love casts out fear;" but where such love is not known and fully realised, there will always be some uneasiness and unrest. God's house and God's presence are not dreadful to a soul who knows the love of God as expressed in the perfect sacrifice of Christ. Such a soul is instead led to say, "O LORD, I love the habitation of your house and the place where your glory dwells."
There was no temple standing when David wrote. That makes his affection more striking, not less.
Had material or ceremonial or ritual concerns swayed him, he would never even have recognised the house of God in the lowly tent that covered the ark of the covenant. He was swayed by faith: and faith discerned the presence of God. He was swayed by love: and love delighted itself in the One whose presence he discerned. He proved his love for God's dwelling by the huge provision he made so that his son could build the house. He himself would not have the glory of putting it up, nor even see it.
David's love showed in what he gave, and in what it started.
His was no empty profession of love. He proved his love by his generous giving for God's house. Love gives; love sacrifices... David's example had a great effect. The leading men and the people followed his example and gave willingly for the house of God. Love expressed in a practical way can be infectious.
One writer carries the verse forward to where God dwells today. It is not a spot on a map, but a people gathered to the name of the Lord Jesus.
There may be great weakness among those who "are gathered together" in the Name of the Lord Jesus. But if they own the Holy Spirit's presence, authority, and sovereign rule, there we have the true principle and expression of the church — the habitation of God — the place where He loves to dwell. Not because of any worthiness in them more than in others, I hardly need say, but because of the value of that Name around which they are gathered.
Where that love is absent, the whole subject goes flat.
But where is the heart that loves Christ that could be content to take such miserably low ground as this? ... Where was the faithful Jew who did not love that sacred spot?
- Clean hands first. The love of verse 8 follows washed hands at the altar. No one can praise God with unclean hands — and here the heart itself is won.
- Won by glory. God's glory shines out everywhere in creation, but it is concentrated in one spot: His house. That is what draws the affection.
- Freed to love. Jacob found God's house dreadful; a soul that knows God's love in the sacrifice of Christ finds it home.
- Proved by cost. David had no temple, only a tent. Faith discerned God's presence there, and he gave lavishly so his son could build. Love gives; love sacrifices.
- Copied by others. His giving spread to the leaders and the people — love shown in practice is infectious.
Gather not my soul with sinners, nor my life with men of blood;
Psalm 26 is the prayer of a man who kept his distance from evil company. Now he asks God not to give him the same end as the men he refused to join. The ESV reads "sweep my soul away"; older translations read "gather not my soul." Two questions follow. When does this sweeping away happen, and how can a man ask to be left out of it?
The request looks ahead to the day God comes in power. One writer ties the whole psalm to a conscience that trusts God to keep it clear of sinners on that day.
In Psalm 26 it is the sense of integrity, not the confession of sins. Here too everything refers to Jehovah. From what Jehovah is, and from the soul's attachment to Him, the psalm draws its principle of separation from evildoers. It also draws its final joy in His congregation, when there is full deliverance from them. In the presence of Jehovah the conscience looks to God not to gather it with sinners when He comes in power, and it counts on this in faith.
The psalmist has already separated himself from these men. His plea rests on that, and it names what makes them dangerous.
On this the plea is based: do not unite me with those from whom I have separated myself. "Gather not my soul with sinners, nor my life with the very men who would destroy my life. Their hands are full of mischief toward those who refuse to join them, or whose goods they crave. Their hands are full of bribes for those they want to corrupt." The practical test gives a clear result in their case. It is just as clear, he says, in his own: "As for me, I walk in my integrity: redeem me and be gracious to me."
The same writer explains why company counts for so much, and where the line falls between going among sinners and joining them.
Scripture makes much of association, in the Old Testament and in the New. It must, for it is a principle of the greatest moral weight... Our associations are a way of classifying ourselves. The spiritual life is very sensitive to the air it breathes. In Christ's name, and for His sake, we may go boldly into the worst dens of evil, if He calls us to it. And we all know enough to tell this apart from association with evil. But the smallest voluntary link is a most serious thing.
Verse 10 fills in who these people are: hands loaded with evil schemes and bribes. One writer points to the Holy One who stood separate from them — men who were religious as well as violent, standing at the altar with blood on their hands.
Verses 9, 10 describe the moral features of the generation of wickedness from which the Holy One stood separate. "You do the works of your father the devil" (John 8) was the estimate which perfect truth and holiness formed of the works of those whose prayers and sacrifices were only bribes of wickedness. "You thought that I was one like yourself" is the reproof addressed to such people elsewhere by the Searcher of all hearts, who is not mocked (Ps. 50:21). They thought so when, with hands full of righteous blood, they surrounded the altar of Jehovah and stood as suppliants in His courts.
The prayer is not spoken from safety. Standing apart is what stirs these men up.
(vv. 9-10) Separation from evil, devotion to God, and witness for God will call out opposition. It comes from sinners and violent men, with their evil devices and corruptions. So the soul prays that God will keep it from them.
In verse 11 the psalmist asks God to redeem him and show him grace. A clean walk, on its own, does not settle the question of acceptance. One writer contrasts that with what Christians already have.
Then comes their prayer: redeem me and be merciful to me, gather not my soul with sinners. All the pleading of integrity of heart and separation from evildoers has not produced assurance of acceptance. In hope they still look forward to the day when they will bless the Lord in the congregations. How different is the assurance grace gives to us: we are redeemed, and the fullest mercy is on our side.
- Association — the company you choose classifies you. The smallest voluntary link is serious, though Christ may send you among sinners for His sake.
- Separation — walking apart from evil belongs together with devotion to God and witness for God, and it ends in joy in His congregation.
- Opposition — walking apart and speaking for God stirs up the violent men this verse names. The prayer meets a real danger.
- Gathering — the plea looks to the day God comes in power. It asks Him not to sweep away with sinners a life that kept itself separate. Faith counts on that.
- Mercy — even after pleading integrity, the psalmist asks God to redeem him and show him grace. Assurance rests there, not on his own clean record.
In whose hands are evil devices, and their right hand is full of bribes.
The psalmist has just begged God not to gather him with these men, and verse 10 holds up the proof against them: their two hands. Older translations read "mischief" where the ESV has "evil devices," and commentators read both hands as one portrait — what these men plot, and what they pay to get it done.
One writer draws out how the two halves of the verse target two different kinds of victim.
The plea rests on this: do not unite me with those I have separated myself from. "Do not gather my soul with sinners, nor my life with the very men who would destroy my life. Their hands are full of mischief toward those who refuse their alliance, or whose plunder they crave. Their hands are full of bribes toward those they want to corrupt."
One writer notes what the psalmist sees in the right hand.
He does not fail the test, because he sees that mischief is in their hands. Even the right hand, which ought to give out positive blessing, is instead full of bribes to seduce others into evil ways. So he sets himself to walk in godly integrity. On that basis he asks for God's redeeming grace to deliver him.
Another writer, commenting on the law against bribery, presses the point inward.
This command forbids every form of bribery. Bribery appeals to the feelings of the person who takes it. Where bribery runs wild, justice is practically unknown. As another translation puts it, "the bribe blinds those whose eyes are open." Let us read this command in its spirit as well as its letter. Self-interest can blind the eyes of a sincere Christian who would never for a moment consider accepting a bribe.
One writer sets these full hands against the altar the psalmist has spoken of walking around. On his reading, the offerings themselves become the payment.
Verses 9 and 10 describe the moral features of the wicked generation that the Holy One stood apart from. "You are of your father the devil" (John 8) was the verdict that perfect truth and holiness passed on the works of people whose prayers and sacrifices were only bribes of wickedness. Elsewhere the Searcher of all hearts, who is not mocked, rebukes such people: "You thought that I was one like yourself" (Psalm 50:21). That was what they thought when they walked around the altar of Jehovah with hands full of righteous blood and stood pleading in His courts. With unwashed hearts and blinded eyes they kept up empty memorials. Their only value was to picture, to the eye of faith, the better and lasting truth these people were denying.
One writer explains why that plea carries weight at all — and why it stays a secondary ground.
First of all we must learn the grace that alone gives us confidence to take hold of God at all. But once we have learned this, we have crossed the line that divides the world into two companies. We have become His, and the mass of men are, sadly, hostile to Him. From then on, separation from evildoers becomes the necessary condition of going on with God. This is the principle of the psalm before us. Meeting it is the plea the soul puts forward: I have separated myself from sinners, so do not unite me with them. That is a true ground of confidence before God, though only a secondary one. Scripture makes much of association, though even Christians make light of it today, except with the grossest forms of evil.
Hands full of bribes are hands that get their way. This psalm speaks from that situation.
The spirit of the psalm is the integrity that has kept the soul by its own affections, by its attachment to Jehovah, and by trust in Jehovah in the presence of the power of evil. For the time being, as between them and the saints, evildoers are always the most powerful, because they can act as they please without restraint or conscience.
One writer notes where this plea stops short.
Then comes their prayer — redeem me and be merciful to me, do not gather my soul with sinners. All the pleading of integrity of heart and separation from evildoers has not produced assurance of acceptance. Still, in hope they look forward to the day when they will bless the Lord in the congregations. How different is the assurance grace gives us: we are redeemed, and the fullest mercy is on our side.
- Two hands. Force for those who refuse to join them. Payment for those they hope to corrupt. The verse names both tools.
- Wrong fill. The right hand was made to give out blessing. Filled with bribes, it lures others into evil instead.
- Wrong worship. Unwashed hearts turn prayers and sacrifices into bribes. God is not mocked.
- Wrong company. Separation from evildoers is the condition of going on with God. Scripture weighs our company far more seriously than we do.
- Right ground. Integrity is a real plea, but only a secondary one. The confidence that settles the heart comes from grace and redemption, not from a clean record.
But as for me, I will walk in mine integrity. Redeem me, and be gracious unto me.
Psalm 26 is a prayer of someone who has just described a crowd he refuses to join. Their hands are full of schemes and bribes. Now he turns to speak of himself. That turn raises the hardest question in the psalm. If he can point to his own integrity, why does he still need redeeming and grace?
The whole verse hangs on a contrast. He has asked not to be swept up with the people he refused. One writer sets his description of himself against theirs:
This is the basis of the plea: do not unite me with those I have separated myself from. "Do not gather my soul with sinners, nor my life with the very men who would destroy my life. Their hands are full of mischief toward those who refuse to join them, or whose goods they want, and full of bribes for those they want to corrupt." The practical test gives a clear result in their case, and, he says, just as clear a result in his own case.
Integrity here is not a boast about being flawless. It grows out of faith. That is why the same man who claims it can invite God to examine him:
The psalm is so simple that it needs no long comment. We have first the plea of integrity, which is both the companion and the fruit of faith. He is sure this is truly his condition. So he can appeal to God to test him: to examine his inmost thoughts and his heart. He has learned in the mercy of God to fear Him, and he has walked in the truth he knows in Him.
One writer names its source in a single line:
Grace produces integrity of heart — grace alone.
The verb looks forward as much as back. This is a settled purpose about how he intends to go on — and the setting for that purpose is pressure, not comfort:
Psalm 25 acknowledges the sin. In the same way, Psalm 26 pleads sincere integrity and asks not to be shut up with the ungodly of that day... The subject of this psalm is thorough integrity, appealing to Him who searches the inmost being. He counts on standing in the congregation, and so he says, "I will walk in my integrity." But it is a time of trial and trouble, for he adds, "redeem me and be merciful to me."
The two psalms belong together. One confesses sin; this one pleads integrity. (This writer's older translation reads "be merciful to me"; the ESV has "be gracious to me.")
The second half of the verse is the safeguard on the first. A man clear of the evil around him still asks to be bought back. He still asks for grace. One writer sees that mix as a mark of a healthy soul:
He throws himself on the mercy and redemption of God right in the middle of these claims of integrity. That shows a very right state of soul.
Reading the psalm as a whole, one commentator notices what is still missing at the end of it. All the honesty and all the separation have not settled the question of acceptance:
Then comes their prayer: redeem me and be merciful to me; do not gather my soul with sinners. All the pleading of integrity of heart and separation from evildoers has not produced assurance of acceptance. Yet in hope they look forward to the day when they will bless the Lord in the congregations. How different is the assurance that grace gives to us, that we are redeemed and the fullest mercy is on our side.
Writers describe the speaker in different ways. Some hear one man; some hear a faithful group praying in a coming day of testing. They agree on the shape: integrity pleaded, redemption still sought.
- Separation — The verse starts with a contrast. He has refused the company of people whose hands hold schemes and bribes, and he asks not to be counted with them.
- Walk — Integrity is not a claim to be perfect. It is the fruit of faith, and grace alone produces it. He offers it to God to examine.
- Trouble — He makes this resolve in a time of trial, not from a place of ease.
- Plea — In the very sentence where he asserts his uprightness, he asks to be redeemed and shown grace. Casting himself on mercy while claiming integrity is the mark of a right state of soul.
- Assurance — This prayer reaches for what it cannot yet hold. Grace gives what it asks for: we are redeemed, and mercy is fully on our side.
My foot standeth in an even place; in the congregations will I bless Jehovah.
All through Psalm 26 one man pleads his case: he asks God to search his heart, he keeps clear of corrupt company, and he asks to be redeemed. The last verse answers all of it — firm ground under his feet, and his voice raised among God's people.
The verse settles everything asked for earlier. It also moves the psalmist from pleading alone to standing in a company.
Psalm 26 is especially the pleading of integrity and trust in Jehovah. Having trusted Him, the godly would surely not slip. He invites Jehovah to search his inmost heart, as Peter did even after he had fallen... Still, though he pleaded integrity, he asks for redemption and mercy. The end would be blessing. Their foot stood in an even place. They would, in the full assembly, bless Jehovah. In effect this is the complete separation of the godly from the nation, and the godly become the congregation of God.
The ESV reads "level ground." Older translations say "an even place." One writer traces the Hebrew word behind it to open, high pasture.
The psalm closes with the answer declared. The matter is settled, and the government of God shows itself. God makes the foot of the one praying stand in an even place (mishor). That word has a special and significant link with the portion of Reuben — a picture of the "upland" pastures of faith. There, in the sunny and open high country, the child of God finds his inheritance and blessing. There the foot that keeps out of the company of evil-doers now stands firm.
Commentators differ on how to render the line. One gives it as:
My foot has stood in righteousness; in congregations will I bless Jehovah.
The two halves of the verse belong together: firm footing, then a shared song. Others are already giving God first place, and the praise of this verse joins theirs.
So he stands in an even place, solid ground that enables him to stand upright. Nor is he alone, but in the congregation, he will bless the Lord. Thank God He has others who give Him the place of supreme honour, and together their praise to Him will issue in resounding praise forever.
Choosing to be where God has chosen puts a person into a chorus, and every voice in it belongs.
In the congregations of Jehovah's people the soul can freely praise the One in unchangeable covenant with them all. So he has his company, and, choosing where God has chosen, his voice is heard in the concert of praise where none can be silent — where every separate note is in harmony with the universal song.
One writer notices what the verse does not yet say. Pleading a clean life had left the psalmist still asking to be redeemed, and the blessing of this last verse is held as expectation.
Then comes their prayer: redeem me and be merciful to me; do not gather my soul with sinners. All this pleading of integrity of heart and separation from evil-doers has not produced assurance of acceptance. Still, in hope they look forward to the day when they will bless the Lord in the congregations. How different is the assurance which grace gives to us — that we are redeemed and the fullest mercy is on our side.
The last two verses also look ahead. They look past the sufferer to the people God will yet bless, and to the truth they had once tripped over.
Verses 11 and 12 concern the redeemed rather than the Redeemer. They may be viewed as the language of the Spirit of Christ speaking in sympathy with the faithful remnant. In their appointed season those people will return to the mighty God of Jacob, and the nations will know them as the seed whom He has blessed. The prayer of faith looks ahead to the time when Israel takes its open place among the congregations of the earth. Their feet will stand firm on that truth which once had been their stumbling stone and rock of offence. They shall be called the priests of Jehovah, and men shall name them the ministers of their God (Isa. 61:6).
The same picture is used of ordinary experience. Trials feel unsteady until the sufferer gets past the trial itself to the One behind it.
We learn most precious lessons. They are precious because we get past the trial that tests us and reach the loving-kindness of the Lord. Our feet can then stand in an even place. We are in the sanctuary of God, and everything falls into its proper place with us there.
- Walk — The psalm pleads integrity and trust, yet still asks for redemption and mercy. The end of that road is blessing.
- Ground — "Level ground" pictures open upland pasture, sunny and unblocked. There the foot that stayed out of bad company stands firm.
- Stand — Solid ground is what lets a person stand upright. The verse ends in strength, not just relief.
- Company — He does not stand alone. Others give God the place of supreme honour, and together their praise rings out forever.
- Assurance — The psalmist could only hope for that day of blessing. Grace tells us we are already redeemed, and the fullest mercy is on our side.
([A Psalm] of David.) Jehovah is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? Jehovah is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
The psalm opens with no plea and no complaint. It gives two statements about the LORD, and each one is followed by a question whose answer is "no one." Everything else in Psalm 27 grows out of this first claim about who God is to the one praying.
The verse never surveys the threat before dismissing it. One writer shows how the psalm argues, and how much strength lies in its refusal to size up the danger:
The psalm begins with a glad note of confidence. It throws out all fear as unworthy and impossible... The argument is short and complete. It is all the more complete because it does not look around or count up any particular evils. It looks up, and it only needs to look up, into Jehovah's face.
"Light" here is not something God hands out. It is what He is — and knowing Him that way puts a person outside the dark, and brings deliverance with it.
It is worth noticing what the psalmist's confidence rests on at the start of the psalm. It rests on what Jehovah is, as the soul knows Him... God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all; but the kingdom of Satan is marked by darkness... Jehovah had become his light — in a region outside of Satan's kingdom and power — and so also his deliverance.
Another writer notes that God is rarely called "Light" before the New Testament. The same writer explains why that name could only come with something else:
How wonderful that the Lord Himself has become our "Light." He is not often presented that way in the Old Testament. We could not have borne it unless His love had been revealed with it; so it comes out more in the New Testament. The One who has become our Light, with the necessary exposure of all our ruin, has also become our "Salvation."
The three titles cover the whole ground: understanding for the road, rescue from sin and pressure, and strength when our own runs out.
Without the light there is no way to tell where the path goes, so many walk in darkness, not knowing where they are going. But the believer knows Christ as the Light, the One who gives understanding, making our way clear before us... He is also our salvation. He delivers us from our sins through His great sacrifice at the cross, and from the many difficulties that press in from every side... Though our own strength fails badly, we may say with Paul, "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (Phil. 4:13).
Verses 2 and 3 widen the threat: attackers, then an army, then open war. The answer does not change with the size of the danger.
With the Lord as his resource, the believer can say, "Of whom shall I be afraid?" Enemies may come one at a time. A whole army may come. Or "war" may come — opposition that lasts at every step of the journey. But the heart need not fear, and the soul need not lose confidence, since we have the Lord as our light, our salvation, and our strength.
The psalm puts the fearless words first and the trembling prayer second — the reverse of what we would expect. One writer treats that order as the psalm's real lesson:
Psalm 27 shows the heart confident in Jehovah, yet searching itself before Him while evil is on open display... Man would have spoken of fear when facing the enemy and confidence when with God. Whereas grace, at work in real dealings of the heart with God, gives boldness with the enemy.
Fearlessness is not where the psalm ends. Free from dread, the psalmist's whole heart narrows to one thing in the next verse.
This psalm makes one thing clear. The more we learn of God, and the more we think about the ways He has shown His love, the more we want to know Him. It was so with David. He first tells us what Jehovah was to him, how He had helped him, and how sure he was about dangers ahead. Then his whole heart pours out in the next verse.
Commentators read the psalm on more than one level. One writer sets its first meaning in a future day. That same writer says the practical value still belongs to readers now:
This psalm holds feelings and experiences that will mark out the faithful few whom God keeps among the Jews in a future day... We do not follow that first meaning further. Our aim is practical — to gather lessons that build us up.
- Look up, not round. The verse answers fear without once measuring the threat; its whole argument is a glance into God's face.
- Light first. God does not just send light — He is light. Knowing Him exposes our ruin and puts us outside the realm of darkness.
- Then salvation. Light could not be carried alone. The One who shows us what we are also saves us, through the sacrifice of the cross and from present pressures.
- Then strength. He is the support that carries the believer through opposition of any size — one enemy, an army, or long war.
- Bold outside, searched inside. Real dealings with God produce courage before the enemy — and that courage frees the heart to want one thing only: God Himself.
When evil-doers, mine adversaries and mine enemies, came upon me to eat up my flesh, they stumbled and fell.
The second verse of this psalm looks back at a real attack that failed. Enemies closed in like predators, and it was they who fell, not David. So what makes a hunted man fearless?
The words "eat up my flesh" describe an animal's attack. One writer reads the verse with the two other forms of attack named later in the psalm:
The believer has the Lord as his "light," "salvation," and "strength." So he is confident in the presence of his enemies. They may come as single attackers, striking at the soul like a beast without conscience. They may come as "a host." Or the attack may be prolonged, as in "war."
The verse reports something that already happened. David is not predicting rescue; he is remembering it. And the memory includes how little he did:
Wicked enemies had surrounded David. They came upon him like wild beasts of prey, to eat up his flesh, but they stumbled and fell. He was an outcast, and all the power of his enemy's kingdom stood against him. Yet he was safe under the protection of his Light and his Deliverer. Again and again Saul determined to destroy David, but every effort failed. And David never struck a single blow to protect himself. The more completely the believer leaves himself in the Lord's hands, the more fully he will know the Lord's help and deliverance. This holds true however hopeless his situation looks. We cannot live on past experiences, but faith argues that God is always the same: as He has delivered, He will keep delivering.
David's confidence is not in his own resources. It rests on what the Lord had become to him — light, deliverance, strength:
God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all; but the kingdom of Satan is marked by darkness... Take salvation in the psalm in its plain sense of deliverance, and we see how far the psalmist had anticipated the truth of Christianity. The Lord had become his light, in a region outside Satan's kingdom and power, and so also his deliverance. What is more, the Lord was the strength of his life. He was the One the psalmist could lean on while feeling his own total weakness. He was the One he could count on with confidence, whatever forces stood against him.
The enemy's attack does not only fail. It turns into something for the psalmist:
The psalmist had known the Lord throwing the enemies of the faithful into confusion. In the time of trouble He would hide him. The assault of foes would only be the occasion of lifting up his head above them. Then he would offer sacrifices of joy.
One writer hears more than David's voice here. He reads the verse as spoken of Jesus, and points to the night He was arrested:
"When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall." This is how David spoke concerning Jesus (Psalm 27). And so, in the garden, the band of men and officers came to seize Him. "When Jesus said to them, 'I am he,' they drew back and fell to the ground" (John 18).
One writer points to the people who came back from exile. They stopped rebuilding God's house because their opponents frightened them — and this psalm was their own.
Fear of their adversaries was stronger than their faith in God. So they lost heart. They thought only of themselves and their own selfish interests. They began to build their own houses and to say, "The time has not yet come to rebuild the house of the Lord."... It is true that they were only a feeble remnant, and their enemies were many and active. But they might have read, in one of their own Psalms, "my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall."
- Light first. Verse 2 gets its courage from verse 1. God known as light, salvation and strength drains the threat of its terror.
- Beast, host, war. The enemy comes in three sizes: the single attacker without conscience, the encamped army, the long war. None of them changes the answer.
- No blow struck. David escaped Saul again and again without defending himself. The more fully a believer leaves his case with God, the more he sees God act.
- Fall upward. The attack meant to devour him lifts his head above his enemies instead, and ends in sacrifices of joy. In the garden, the men who came for Jesus drew back and fell to the ground.
- Use it or lose it. The exiles had this psalm and still stopped building. Their fear of enemies beat their faith in God.
If a host encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; if war rise against me, in this will I be confident.
Psalm 27 opens by naming the Lord as light and salvation. This verse tests that claim at its limit: an army in the field, war breaking out, and a heart that still refuses to panic — so what makes such calm honest, and not just brave talk?
One writer sees a ladder of pressure here: one enemy, then a crowd of them, then a war that never lets up.
With the Lord as his resource, the believer can say, "Of whom shall I be afraid?" Enemies may oppose us one at a time. They may come as a whole host. Or they may come as "war" — opposition that drags on at every step of the journey. But the heart need not fear and the soul need not lose confidence, since we have the Lord as our light, our salvation, and our strength.
Calm in front of an army only makes sense if something is there that the eye cannot see. One commentator names the enemy a believer faces now, then points to a prophet's servant who woke to find enemy troops all around the town:
Our enemies today are "the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" — Satan's angels, who work constantly to undermine our faith in the Lord Jesus. But if we put on "the whole armor of God" (Eph. 6:11), we can stand against them and defeat their evil plans... "Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear." The whole Syrian army once surrounded Elisha's house. Elisha stayed at peace, while terror gripped his servant (2 Kings 6:14-15). Elisha prayed for the Lord to open the young man's eyes (v. 17). He then saw the mountain full of horses and chariots of fire, drawn up to protect Elisha. Doesn't the believer today have protection just as real against the opposition of evil spirits? Our hearts have no reason to fear. They have every reason to trust the Lord fully, however threatening the enemy's attacks may be.
This calm is not a mood. It is an argument, and past rescue is the evidence.
Present faith brought David's past experience back to mind. It let him look without fear at everything the future might hold... We cannot live on past experiences. But faith reasons that God is always the same. As He has delivered, He will keep on delivering. (Compare 2 Corinthians 1:10.) So it is a rich thing to learn what God is for us. His past dealings teach us, and so do the times He has stepped in on our behalf.
In this psalm, confidence and one desire go together. One writer traces both through its first half:
In Psalm 27 we have two distinct parts... The first part, verses 1-6, is the confidence of the believer. That confidence is absolute, whatever the enemies were. In the second part, verses 7-12, we find the cry of distress. In the first, singleness of eye lays the ground of confidence... Enemies outside or oppressors inside, a host and a war rising up, stir no fear. The Lord is the light and salvation of the soul. Its one desire is to dwell in the house of the Lord, to see His beauty and to inquire in His temple.
Anyone can quote these words while walking into a danger God never sent him into. Josiah, a king of Judah, went out to a battle without God's word for it:
Suppose Josiah had weighed up the situation in God's presence and gone out at His bidding. Then he might have used David's words in Psalm 27... When our blessed Lord went into danger, to the dismay of His disciples, He was calmly confident. He had the Father's word for what He was doing, and so He was walking in the light (John 11:7-10). But Josiah had lost touch with God. He was making the biggest mistake of his life, and the whole nation suffered for it as well as himself.
One writer hears a deeper voice in the psalm: Christ's own, spoken in a faithful few during a coming time of trouble.
Psalm 27 is the word of Christ, as found in the tried remnant of the last days. He identifies Himself with their feelings. His words rest on His own stated experience of the Lord's faithfulness to Him when He stood alone. Notice that the time of trouble is the time of God's deliverance. It is the place where they met God, whatever else they felt, even when it seemed to be Satan.
- Light first. The calm here is not the psalmist's own. The Lord as his light, salvation and strength is what makes "Of whom shall I be afraid?" an honest question.
- Sight next. The enemy does not shrink. The heart steadies because of unseen protection, as real as the horses of fire around Elisha.
- Memory next. Faith argues from past rescues. The God who has delivered will keep delivering.
- Single eye next. Confidence and one desire travel together. The settled heart is set on dwelling with God.
- Obedience always. The words fit the person sent by God, not the one, like Josiah, who walks into danger out of touch with Him.
One [thing] have I asked of Jehovah, that will I seek after that I may dwell in the house of Jehovah all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of Jehovah, and to inquire [of him] in his temple.
Enemies surround David in this psalm, and under that pressure he asks for one thing only. Three questions follow: what is that one thing, where is this dwelling, and what do you see and do there?
Start with the number in the verse. It describes more than a prayer; it describes a state of heart.
"One thing." It is the simple expression of a heart that has only one motive, one object. In other words, it is what the Lord refers to when He speaks of "a single eye" — an eye taking in only one object.
David does not stop at asking. He adds that he will seek after it.
Notice first that he had not only asked this of the Lord, which was a true beginning. It was also the purpose of his heart to follow after it. And what did David long for so deeply? It was to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of his life. There he could contemplate the display of His glory and His beauty, and learn His mind. The temple was the place where the Lord shared His thoughts with those who waited on Him.
"All the days of my life" fixes the timing. The prayer is about now as much as later.
It is undividedness of heart that comes out here. "One thing"; what is it? "That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life": not merely when I go to heaven. His presence has become the sanctuary of our hearts. We now have unhindered access. There is no veil now. We may in spirit dwell there now, "to behold the beauty of the Lord." ... Once we saw no beauty in Him that we should desire Him; but now He is the chief among ten thousand, the altogether lovely.
Why does this dwelling matter day by day? One writer answers from ordinary life.
Continually dwelling in the house of the Lord is the one thing that gives character. You can be sure of it: the place where you live is the place that gives you character.
With enemies close, we might expect David to ask for shelter. He gives a different reason.
For what purpose are we to dwell there? To get out of the storm? No. Out of difficulties? No. Out of the exercises and trials that we are in here? Not a word about it. What is it, then? Just this, "to behold the beauty of the Lord." ... I love to think of that. It is like God to give me a motive in Himself, outside of all the wretched, miserable, selfish things that surround me here.
Commentators differ on what "beauty" means here. Trench sees the loveliness of Christ; another writer reads the word more plainly, and ties it to a habit.
"Beauty" in this verse apparently has the sense of pleasantness or graciousness. ... Withdraw from the noise and distraction of the world into the quiet of God's presence. That is how you come to know the mind of God and to experience His graciousness.
The verse ends with a second thing done in that place: inquiring. One writer says the Hebrew behind it is warmer than it sounds.
There is another thing in that verse: "to inquire in his temple." I make no claim to scholarship, but the strict meaning of the Hebrew words is "to meditate with joy in his temple." I believe that is the literal force of those words in the original language. "To meditate with joy." "One thing have I asked: to dwell, to behold, and to meditate with joy."
The psalm opens with a man who will not fear an army. Verse 4 is not a change of subject; it explains where that steadiness comes from.
But one important principle, or state of soul, goes with this confidence and forms its basis. It is complete singleness of eye and desire. The soul looks to the Lord for one thing and seeks one thing: to be with Him, in His presence where He is and where we can adore Him; to behold His beauty, and to learn there His will and mind.
- One desire. The verse is the voice of a heart with only one motive and one object — what Scripture calls a single eye.
- One pursuit. Desiring is the true beginning; David adds that he will seek after it, making it the settled purpose of his heart.
- One dwelling. David asks for all his days, not only the life to come. Access is open now, and the believer may dwell in that presence today.
- One sight. He does not go in to escape the storm but to behold the Lord's beauty — a motive God gives us in Himself.
- One result. This singleness of eye and desire is the very basis of the confidence that makes the rest of the psalm fearless.
For in the day of evil he will hide me in his pavilion; in the secret of his tent will he keep me concealed he will set me high upon a rock.
Verse 4 asked God for one thing: to live in His house. Verse 5 is the answer. The place David longed for becomes the place God hides him when trouble comes. So what does God promise here — escape from the trouble, or shelter inside it? The writers below quote an older translation, where the ESV's "shelter" is "pavilion" and "the cover of his tent" is "the secret of his tabernacle."
The first half of this psalm is not a cry for help but a settled certainty, and verse 5 belongs to that section.
In Psalm 27 we have two distinct parts... The first part, verses 1-6, is the confidence of the believer. That confidence is complete, whatever enemies there were... Enemies outside or oppressors inside... an army and a war rising up stir no fear. Jehovah is the light and salvation of the soul. Its only desire is to live in the house of Jehovah, to see His beauty and to ask of Him in His temple... In the time of trouble He would hide him. The attack of enemies would only be the occasion for lifting his head above them, and then he would offer sacrifices of joy.
The shelter is not a new address found in an emergency. It is the house he had already asked to live in.
How often we need trouble to bring our hearts back to the Lord. But it was not trouble that led the Psalmist to seek the Lord. He sought Him for His own sake. Then, when trouble did come, it found him already hidden in the innermost part of His pavilion, at home with Him in all that closeness.
Notice too who does the acting in this verse.
You want to live in the house of God; trouble comes, and He hides you where you have been living! There is not a word about me, or what I do; but He hides me. Where? Where my heart dwelt before!
Read it closely. The promise does not say God will take the trouble away.
Notice that there is no deliverance yet in this verse. It is not "in the time of trouble God will come in and take me out of it," but "he will hide me." It is not "he will quiet the winds and waves" — not a word about that... He carries us in His power. He hides us. He does not remove the difficulty. He gives me the upper hand over it, and His own power carries me through it... Should we pity the person in trouble, if Jehovah hides him in His pavilion?
So when trouble comes, the believer is not the one who has to act.
When trouble or difficulty comes, I am not running around looking for a way out. There I am, resting and quiet, and God is active. He hides me, He holds me up, He acts for me in the time of trouble.
The verse piles up images: a pavilion, the hidden inner part of the tent. One writer also notes the shift from "all the days of my life" in verse 4 to the day of trouble in verse 5.
David had said before, "all the days of my life:" now he says "in the time of trouble." Do we not learn from this that all the days of our lives are a time of trouble and testing? Because of this we continually need the secret of the presence of the Lord. David uses different words for it: "His temple," "His pavilion," "the secret of His tabernacle"... Linked with this is our being "set on high upon a rock." In God's presence we shall always find our feet planted on solid ground. In fact, Christ is the Rock, and though we may at times tremble on the Rock, yet the Rock never trembles.
The last clause adds something the hiding alone does not: height and permanence.
Dwelling in the house of Jehovah, and engrossed... with His beauty, he is really in a region outside of all trouble; and if it were possible for trouble to get into that divine circle of light and blessing, there is the action of Jehovah in concealing the one who has been drawn into His presence; He will hide him even in the secret, in the innermost recesses, of His tabernacle... "He shall set me up upon a rock" — upon an unchangeable foundation, one therefore which will ensure security and stability for ever.
The psalm speaks of a real sanctuary and real human enemies. One writer sees a wider picture in it.
The immediate application here is to human enemies, though the literal sanctuary gives... only a picture of spiritual truths of much wider range... God has indeed lifted us high on the rock-foundation of Christ's blessed work. In Him we have entered the heavenly sanctuary, safely hidden from the enemy... So the sanctuary is our safe retreat at all times. It is the place where the world takes its true shape for us, and its hold on us is loosened... Here, then, the head is lifted over all enemies, and the sacrifice of praise becomes the necessary outlet of a full and grateful heart.
- Desire first. The shelter of verse 5 is the house of verse 4. Trouble finds the believer already at home with God.
- Hidden, not removed. God does not promise to calm the waves here. He promises to hide you, so you go through the trouble instead of around it.
- Rest, because He acts. Every verb belongs to God: He hides, He holds me up, He acts for me. So the believer can rest.
- Rock under the shelter. Hiding gives safety. The rock lifts the head above enemies, and Christ the Rock never trembles.
- Praise as the outcome. From that place God lifts the head, and sacrifices of joy follow. Shelter ends in worship.
And now shall my head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me; and I will offer in his tent sacrifices of shouts of joy I will sing, yea, I will sing psalms unto Jehovah.
Psalm 27 has been about trust while enemies press in. Here the mood turns to song. When is the head lifted? Why is the singing done inside God's tent? And how can joy be a sacrifice?
The enemies are still there when the head goes up. One writer says their attack is the very thing that raises it.
The first part, verses 1 to 6, is the confidence of the believer — full confidence, whatever enemies there were. Enemies outside or oppressors inside — for the remnant of the Jews will find both against them — a host and war rising up, stir up no fear. In the time of trouble He would hide him. The attack of enemies would only be the occasion for lifting up his head above them. Then he would offer sacrifices of joy.
Everything up to this point was shelter, not rescue.
He does not remove the difficulty; He gives me superiority to it, and His own power carries me through it. He hides me in His shelter. Now we come to deliverance, and that is the last thing. All that I have been speaking of is not deliverance, but now we have it. Notice that the believer is never outside the dwelling-place of God. He dwells there; that is where the life of God, this blessed principle in us, abides.
The writers quoted here say "tabernacle" where the ESV says "tent." Both name God's dwelling-place. It is not only where the song happens. It is what makes the song possible.
The immediate application here is to human enemies, though the literal sanctuary gives only the picture of spiritual truths of much wider range. For us, the way of escape from spiritual foes is exactly what is indicated here! God has lifted us high upon the rock-foundation of Christ's blessed work. In Him we have entered the heavenly sanctuary, and there we are hidden from the enemy... So the sanctuary is our safe retreat at all times. It is the place where the world takes its true shape for us. There our entanglement with it is loosened, the darkness and mist disappear, sin is rebuked and banished, and the holiness of truth is found... Here the head is lifted up over all enemies, and the sacrifice of praise becomes the necessary relief of a full and grateful heart.
The lifting up is not a private comfort. It is public, and it is given for a use.
Set free from the fear of enemies and enjoying the presence of the Lord, the believer is supported in the time of trouble — "hidden" and "kept." In the future, when the trouble has passed, he will be exalted in public above all his enemies. He will use this place of glory for the praise of the Lord.
A sacrifice of joy can sound like a contradiction. One writer sets it beside the sacrifice of a broken spirit.
Strange as it may seem, this sacrifice does not clash with the sacrifice of a broken spirit. It is one of the lovely "contradictions" of the Scriptures that we can be "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." Yes, I think we can bring the sacrifice of a broken spirit and sacrifices of joy at the same time. And perhaps such offerings are especially acceptable to God — the joy and sorrow mingling.
Commentators also read the psalm as the song of Christ. One writer hears Him singing it in spirit while trouble closed in.
And now it was that, in spirit, He sang the twenty-seventh Psalm. The Lord was His light and His salvation — whom should He fear? He had just seen God's glory in the sanctuary. According to this Psalm, His longing was to dwell in that house of the Lord forever. It was a time of trouble, that is true. But in spirit His head was lifted up above His enemies. He was soon to offer sacrifices of joy in the tabernacle, and sing His praises to the Lord.
Others look ahead, to a deliverance still to come and two groups singing at once.
They long for the earthly sanctuary, we for our heavenly home. Then follows praise. Their heads will be lifted up. Israel will sing on earth when their earthly hope and deliverance has come, while the praises of His church fill the heavens above.
- Hidden first. God's shelter comes before any rescue. He never moves the believer out of His dwelling-place.
- Then lifted. The enemies are not cleared away in advance — their assault becomes the occasion for the head to rise.
- Lifted for a reason. Once the trouble has passed, the place of glory is used in public for the praise of the Lord.
- Costly singing. A sacrifice of joy can be brought at the same time as a broken spirit — sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.
- Still to come. Commentators hear this song in Christ in His time of trouble, and hear it still ahead — Israel singing on earth, the church filling heaven.
Hear, Jehovah; with my voice do I call; be gracious unto me, and answer me.
Just before this verse the psalm is full of praise. Here the tone drops into a plea: why does a confident man suddenly cry out for mercy, and what does that change teach anyone who prays?
The change of tone is normal Christian experience. One writer explains it from the order of the books of Moses:
The language in these verses is so different from the language before it! Instead of praise, it is the language of earnest pleading in distress. But this is often seen in the psalms. Indeed, someone may find unspeakable joy in the presence of the Lord, with his heart lifted up to heaven. Soon he is reminded that his feet are on earth. He will find that he must be tested: how fully had he entered into the joy of God's sanctuary? So Numbers follows Leviticus. Leviticus brings us into God's immediate presence. Numbers is the book of testing in the wilderness, where prayer is a very real need.
Facing enemies and facing God teach two different lessons about yourself.
In the verses that follow we have the exercises of the believer in the presence of the Lord. In the presence of the enemy he learned the strength of the Lord; in the presence of the Lord he realises his own weakness. The Lord encourages him to seek His face. So the soul turns to the Lord, and there sees his own sin, which deserves the Lord's anger. Even so, he learns the evil of his own heart while standing in the grace that can meet it all. Has not the grace of the Lord said, "Seek my face"? Though his sin calls for forsaking, grace will not forsake, though nature may.
Many people only dare to pray when they feel God has nothing against them. This prayer goes further.
The soul here recognises that anger is possible, pleads against it, and counts on grace. This is important for the soul, for one might think it could trust in the LORD if He had nothing against it. But it is not so; the heart may recognise that it ought to expect anger, and yet trust grace.
This plea does not stand alone. The next verse gives its ground: God had already spoken the invitation.
Verse 7 pleads with the LORD to hear the cry. Verse 8 seems to me to be the LORD's own expression of what had been in His heart as the foundation of it all. The Hebrew reads like this — To You (that is, Messiah), my heart said, "Seek My face." The answer is, "Your face, LORD, do I seek." Then comes the confidence, and the pleading with the Lord on that basis.
Some commentators hear more than David here. They read the psalm as the voice of Christ standing with a tried and faithful few, and they point to past mercy as the ground of fresh prayer.
Psalm 27 is the word of Christ, speaking as in the tried remnant of the last days. He identifies Himself with their feelings. It rests on the experience He spoke of — the Lord's faithfulness to Him when He stood alone. Notice, the time of trouble is the time of God's deliverance… Mercy already acted on is the foundation of future prayer. It is, needless to say, the moral principle that gives confidence.
The verse asks for more than a hearing. It asks for an answer, and that shapes what happens after the prayer.
He has learnt something of His grace, something of His heart. So, feeling his need, he casts himself on God in childlike confidence, sure that He will hear his prayer. Then, along with this, there is expectation, waiting for the answer in faith. No doubt speaking its needs before God relieves the heart. But the one who prays in the Spirit will watch in his prayer for the expected answer.
- Called — God's own word, "Seek My face," lies underneath the cry; the prayer is a reply, not an intrusion.
- Confident — mercy already received is the ground for asking again. Past faithfulness gives fresh boldness.
- Convicted — before enemies the believer learns God's strength. Before God he learns his own weakness, and asks for mercy.
- Covered — the heart may expect anger and still count on grace. Sin calls for forsaking, but grace does not forsake, even when people do.
- Continuing — joy in God's presence gives way to wilderness testing. There prayer becomes a real need, and faith watches for the answer.
My heart said for thee, Seek ye my face. Thy face, O Jehovah, will I seek.
God speaks first in this verse, and the believer's heart echoes back what He said. Everything hangs on that order: God invites first, and the longing to seek Him is His gift before it is anyone's choice.
The verse does not begin with a resolution. It begins with God expressing what He wants, and one writer sees in this the pattern of all God's work in us.
Before God calls forth the response, He gives the desire. Our hearts are won by Christ, and we desire to be like Him.
This encourages anyone who fears their desire for God is too small to count:
What an encouragement it is to find God coming in to confirm us in our desires to seek Him. "Seek my face," He says. It is sweet to Him that we should seek Him. What a reward for the soul set on this one thing — to be in His presence, looking at His beauty. He satisfies the longing soul. He creates the longing that He may satisfy it. And with the satisfying comes a capacity for deeper longing.
When God asks and the heart answers like this, His law stops sounding like a threat. One writer sets this verse beside the long psalm about God's law and finds the same spirit in both.
But in Psalm 27:8, we breathe a different atmosphere altogether. God says He wants His creature to seek His face, and the heart answers at once... Psalm 119:1-176 is but the expansion of Psalm 27:8. Whatever name the law goes by, it no longer threatens condemnation and death. It is now perfect delight and liberty.
The first half of Psalm 27 is confident song. From verse 7 the tone changes to pleading. The remembered invitation keeps the prayer steady.
There is confidence indeed, because in coming before God the soul had answered His own invitation... Still, he knows he deserves correction, and he does not try to hide it. So he cries out, humbling himself: "Hide not Your face far from me; put not Your servant away in anger."
Seeking God's face is not a comfortable exercise. Coming close shows us what distance kept hidden. The same nearness brings the cure.
In the presence of the enemy he learned the strength of the Lord. In the presence of the Lord he realizes his own weakness. The Lord encourages him to seek His face, so he turns to the Lord. There he sees his own sin, which deserves the Lord's anger. Still, he learns the evil of his own heart in the presence of the grace that can meet it all. Has not the grace of the Lord said, "Seek my face"? Though his sin calls for forsaking, yet grace will not forsake.
Because the desire is God's own work in the soul, the words He spoke become an argument the seeker can use with Him.
This longing is the fruit of Jehovah's own work in the soul. It is the response to His own invitation and command to seek His face. So how could the faithful and unchangeable One deny or draw back from the man who now drew near to Him? He had said, "Seek My face!" could He have said that in vain?
One writer notes what is missing from this psalm: any second option.
It is remarkable that there is no thought at all of any resource or help other than Jehovah... The soul knows nothing else — no human means, no strength, no wisdom, no plan — only seeking Jehovah's face. With Him everything is settled, and so the heart stays true within and keeps its integrity. The enemies are then Jehovah's concern.
The wording of this verse is hard to arrange, and translations differ. One writer holds that the common English versions blur something real here.
This is the cry of distress, but of confidence as well. It rests on Jehovah's heart saying, "Seek My face" — a moving plea that both the Authorised and Revised versions blur here, as they do in other places. There is some difficulty, because Jehovah's call is suddenly remembered and acted on. But weigh it carefully, and the sense that comes out seems clear and striking, while the usual reading is confused and pointless.
- Call. God speaks first: the desire to seek Him is His own gift, given before the response is asked for.
- Answer. The heart that echoes His words is proof of a work God has already done, and His law then becomes delight instead of threat.
- Exposure. Drawing near shows the seeker his own weakness and sin — but he learns it in the presence of the grace that can meet it all.
- Confidence. Since the invitation was His, He cannot deny the one who takes Him at His word; the plea rests on God's faithfulness, not the seeker's worth.
- Resource. With no other plan in view, seeking His face settles everything — the enemies then become His concern, not ours.
Hide not thy face from me; put not thy servant away in anger thou hast been my help; cast me not off, neither forsake me, O God of my salvation.
Psalm 27 changes tone halfway through. The confident voice of the opening verses turns into a cry, and verse 9 is the heart of it. God had told this servant to seek His face. Now he begs Him not to turn that face away. The prayer raises questions every troubled believer asks. Can God be angry with His own? Can He abandon them? What does it mean when His face seems hidden?
The prayer is not a shot in the dark. It answers God's own invitation to seek His face. That is what gives it force.
The first part of Psalm 27 beautifully shows the one desire of the heart. The second part gives the touching plea: You taught me to seek Your face; my heart, in those times of divine instruction, said, I will seek it. Lord, will You turn it away now that I am in trouble, when You taught me to seek and trust it?
He does not deny that he deserves correction. He names the anger and asks God not to hand him over to it. That admission itself marks a man who knows God.
He knows he deserves chastening, and he has no wish to hide it. So he cries out in deep humility... Only one who had known the Lord could have uttered such a cry. It was, in fact, because the Lord had been his help that he pours out this agonizing plea in his distress. The memory of past enjoyment in the Lord's presence is what fills the soul with such sharp sorrow when, through failure or sin, the need of self-judgment has arisen.
The middle clause carries the argument. God will not deny the help He has already given, and that is where faith drops its anchor.
The cry is to the Unchangeable, and this is the only ground where faith's anchor can hold... This is the Lord's own invitation and command to seek His face, to which faith has answered earnestly and gladly... And would He now hide that glorious face, and turn away in anger the one who sought Him? Would He, so to speak, deny the help that He had given, and, though the God looked to for salvation, cast off and forsake? No, certainly not: the ground is firm, and the anchor holds.
He asks for the felt shining of God's favour. That is not the same as being secure in that favour. A believer can be sure of God's favour and still miss the warmth of it.
Encouraged to seek the face of the Lord, he prays that the Lord will not hide His face — that he may be kept in the sense of the Lord's favour shining upon him. It is one thing for the Christian to know that he is accepted in the Beloved and stands in the favour of God; it is another thing to walk in the conscious sense of this favour.
For the Christian, the two halves of this request are not the same. God will never cast him off. But he can still lose the enjoyment of God's company.
David pleads that God would not hide His face from him or turn him away in anger. Today the believer knows that God will not do either, though if our condition is one of disobedience, we can expect to find ourselves deprived of practical fellowship with God. But the psalmist reminds God that in the past He had been David's help, and on this basis makes the earnest request that God may not leave nor forsake him. Yet the reality of his faith shines through when he adds, "O God of my salvation."
The psalmist asks for something the New Testament gives as a settled promise. That turns the prayer into confidence.
Realising that the Lord has been his help in times past, he desires that the Lord will not leave nor forsake him in the days to come, even though he may be forsaken by those nearest to him on earth. Since the Lord has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you," the Christian can "boldly say, The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?" (Hebrews 13:5-6).
- Invited — God called him to seek His face. He asks God not to turn that face away now.
- Honest — he does not hide that he deserves chastening. Naming the anger, instead of denying it, marks a man who knows the Lord.
- Anchored — "You have been my help" is the ground under the plea. God will not deny the help He has already given. Faith's anchor holds there.
- Secure — a hidden face means lost enjoyment, not lost acceptance. Standing in God's favour and feeling it are two different things.
- Answered — what David asks for, the Christian already holds: "I will never leave you nor forsake you." The plea becomes bold confidence.
For had my father and my mother forsaken me, then had Jehovah taken me up.
Psalm 27 turns a corner at verse 7. The confident singer of the opening verses becomes a pleader, and here he asks what is left when even a father and mother walk away.
The psalm has two halves, and the change is not in David's circumstances but in what he is looking at.
In the first part of the psalm (1-6) the believer is full of confidence, even with enemies around him. That confidence rests on what he has found in the Lord — light and salvation. In the second part (7-14) his soul is deeply exercised before the Lord, because of what he finds in himself.
So this is not a boast made in calm weather. A man says it while pleading with God, steadying himself on what he already knows of Him.
This confidence does not rest on family staying loyal. It rests on what God has already shown Himself to be.
The soul has known a God who helps, and it does not expect to be forsaken by One who is a Saviour God. This confidence is complete. It is more than the nearest ties of nature can give, and so it truly is for the one who knows Jehovah.
A father and mother are not rivals to God's care. They are gifts that trace back to Him, which is why their failure cannot touch His faithfulness.
Experience will confirm the soul's confidence and never put it to shame. Father and mother might forsake him. But not He — the One these relationships came from, with all their tender affection. They might forsake him; He will not. And if they did, Jehovah would show His tender pity all the more. Such an outcast would be the object of His special care.
The confidence here is not that David deserves better. His own sin calls for forsaking, and grace answers anyway.
The Lord encourages him to seek His face, so the soul turns to Him. There he sees his own sin, which deserves the Lord's anger. Still, he learns the evil of his own heart while standing in the grace that can meet it all. Has not the grace of the Lord said, "Seek my face"? Though his sin calls for forsaking, yet grace will not forsake, though nature may.
Being left with nobody is not the end of God's care. It is the setting He uses.
Suppose all who are nearest and dearest turned away from him — those on whom he had the claim of the closest natural ties. Then, alone as he was, the Lord would seize the opportunity to show His favour. This is the Lord's way, as we see in the blind man in John's Gospel. Cast out by all alike — in complete isolation — the Lord drew near, and revealed Himself to him as the Son of God.
Nothing in David's history says his parents ever abandoned him. He is not describing a wound; he is testing his trust against the worst case he can imagine.
There is no evidence that David's parents ever forsook him. But even if it did happen, and he could not depend on his closest relatives, he knew he would still find the Lord reliable. So his faith triumphed.
And the weight of the sentence falls on God, not on the strength of the man saying it.
Father and mother may forsake. The best earthly props may go. He exults, "The LORD will take me in," but that is not boasting what he can do, but what the Lord will do.
Sometimes God takes someone up through another person. One writer sees this verse at work in Mordecai, who brought up the orphaned Esther.
He takes the place of the parents Esther had lost, and he welcomes her into his home. In a sense, this is a divine role: "For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the LORD will take me in." (Ps. 27:10) He brings her up with care and watches over her with the loving concern of a mother.
- Setting — The verse sits in the psalm's second half. There, confidence before enemies gives way to honest searching of soul before the Lord.
- Cause — The failure named is the deepest one possible. The confidence that answers it is "more than the nearest ties of nature can give."
- Gift — Family came from God in the first place. So if father and mother fail, the outcast becomes "the object of His special care."
- Reach — Grace goes where nature stops: sin may call for forsaking, but grace will not forsake.
- Result — Total isolation is the Lord's moment to draw near. He did it for the blind man cast out in John's Gospel. Sometimes He does it through a Mordecai who steps into a parent's place.
Teach me thy way, Jehovah, and lead me in an even path, because of mine enemies.
Surrounded by enemies, David does not ask to escape them. He asks to be taught — and to be kept on a path where hostile eyes can find no fault.
David does not ask for a road that works, or a decision that turns out well. He asks for a way that belongs to God.
He desires to be taught the way of the Lord. He does not simply want a way. He knows that the Lord has His way for His people through this world, so he prays, "Teach me your way, O LORD."
That raises the question of the teacher. Having found that the Lord holds him when everyone else lets go, David turns to the only one who can answer.
Now David has passed the test. He has learned that the Lord is perfectly dependable, even when the closest natural relationships fail. So he is ready to truly learn the Lord's way. From whom will he learn this? Only from the Lord Himself, whom he invites to teach him.
The verse asks twice. David wants to know the way, and he wants to be kept in it.
He realises that many enemies would seek to turn him out of the Lord's way. So he desires not only to be taught the way, but also to be led in the way. He says, "Lead me on a level path because of my enemies." We need light to see the path, faith to take it, and grace to keep us in it.
Older translations call this a plain or smooth path. That does not mean an easy life.
The Lord's way may not always be easy, but in that way alone can we expect to have His sustaining grace and blessing. "Lead me on a level path because of my enemies." This is a path that faith can see plainly. In that path alone will we be fully delivered from the attacks of the enemy.
David gives his enemies as the reason. They are not only trying to defeat him. They are hoping he will trip.
Two prayers follow. The first concerns the Lord's way: he asks to be led on a plain path because of his enemies, who were watching in the hope that he might go astray. The second asks for deliverance from those enemies, because false witnesses had already risen up against him, men who breathed out cruelty.
So the prayer is about how he walks while others watch. A stumble would give them just what they want.
Made conscious of the Lord's grace, the believer seeks to be taught the Lord's way and to be led on a level path. He wants nothing in his walk to give the enemy an occasion for reproach. Many are against the believer, ready to accuse him falsely and to oppose him with violence.
What about the times when a believer cannot see what to do next? One writer points to an apostle who was left in the dark about his own path.
An apostle's knowledge never either formed or cleared his path. He walked by faith. So doubt and distressing perplexity were often allowed to visit this much-tried servant of the Lord... If perplexed, therefore, he was not in despair. If doubts stopped him, they threw him back on his Strength. They only multiplied his peace, by casting him more completely on the loving care of God.
- Ask. David does not pray for a good outcome. He prays for God's own way — and only the Lord can teach it.
- Taught. Being shown the way is the first half: light to see the path.
- Led. Being kept in it is the second half. Enemies work to pull the believer off it, so faith takes the path and grace holds him there.
- Watched. The reason David gives is his enemies. A level path is a walk that gives them no opening for reproach.
- Trusting. When the way stays unclear, perplexity is not despair. It throws the believer back on God's care, and multiplies his peace.
Deliver me not over to the will of mine adversaries; for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out violence.
Psalm 27 turns at verse 7 from confident song to urgent prayer. By verse 12 the psalmist names his fear: being handed over to men who lie about him.
The prayer of verse 12 sits in the second half of the psalm. One writer notes that this order is deliberate: the bold part comes first, the trembling part second.
Anyone can see at once that the first six verses go together, and so do the next six. The last two draw the lessons from the whole psalm. In the first part we have the psalmist's confidence in front of his enemies. The second part gives us his deep struggle of soul before God. People have often said that we might have been tempted to change the order, and to put the psalmist's confidence in the second part and his fear and distress in the first. But a deeper knowledge of the inner life proves the way of the Spirit of God right. We see it in the life of our blessed Lord Himself. In Gethsemane we see Him crying to the Father. On the other hand, we see Him in perfect calm and confidence while His persecutors rage against Him.
The word translated "will" is worth a second look. In Hebrew it is the ordinary word for "soul" — what these men crave.
In man's present natural state, the will is tied to the soul. Older English Bibles translate the same word "will" three times (Ps. 27:12, Ps. 41:2, Ezek. 16:27). "Let her go where she will," is (in Deut. 21:14) "let her go to her soul."
So he asks God to keep him out of reach of what these men want. One writer sums up the enemies in two strokes.
Realising his own weakness in front of his enemies, he prays that the Lord would deliver him from the will of enemies. They witness against him falsely, without conscience; they breathe out cruelty, without heart.
The enemies do not go away. What changes is the company the hunted man keeps.
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The oppressors are still there — false witnesses, men whose panting eagerness breathes out violence. The one who prays points them out to the Guide and Guard with whom He goes. But he walks firmly, though humbly, counting on deliverance.
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Commentators read the verse as more than David's private trouble. It looks ahead to the day when the nation produced false witnesses against its own Messiah.
As a nation, Israel was especially guilty of false witness against the Messiah. The Spirit of Christ foreshadowed this sin in the prophets: "false witnesses have risen against me, and they breathe out violence" (Ps. 27:12). And so it happened. When the time came and the Anointed One presented Himself to the chosen people, it was not the crowd but the religious leaders of the Jews who tried to find false witness against Jesus to put Him to death. In doing this they broke the very law they were appointed to administer.
Another writer sees a second reach in the verse. The same suffering may fall on faithful Israelites still to come.
Verse 12 clearly applies to the oppressed and afflicted Man of sorrows. But it may also point to the condition of that same remnant, who will face special persecution, above all from their own unbelieving countrymen, when the time of their deliverance is near.
- Handed over. He asks God not to give him up to what his enemies crave. The Hebrew word behind "will" is the ordinary word for "soul" — their appetite for him.
- Two failures. They lie about him without conscience. They breathe out cruelty without heart.
- God's path. He names his enemies to God, his Guide and Guard, and walks on firmly, counting on deliverance.
- Christ's trial. Commentators see the words fulfilled at the trial of Jesus. The religious leaders hunted for false witness, and broke the very law they were meant to uphold.
- Still to come. The same slander may yet fall on faithful Israelites, persecuted by their own countrymen just before God rescues them.
Unless I had believed to see the goodness of Jehovah in the land of the living ...!
Psalm 27 moves from confidence to an urgent cry for help. At verse 13 the psalmist breaks off mid-sentence: what held him up, and what was he expecting to see?
The verse never finishes. Translators complete the thought in different ways. The ESV supplies "I believe that"; older versions, which the writers quoted below follow, supply "I had fainted".
You will see that the words "I had fainted" have been added, to fill out the sense of verse 13. The verse is really an exclamation. It runs like this: "If I had not believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living!" That is, believing he would see this goodness had been his stay and support.
He never spells out the disaster. What breaks out instead is the confidence underneath.
The pressure felt in the soul only comes out in the outburst. That outburst at the same time reveals the confidence supporting it — "If I had not believed" — but then I do! — "to see Jehovah's goodness in the land of the living!"
One thing alone stood between him and giving up.
Left to himself this godly man would have fainted. What sustained him? Faith in the goodness of the Lord that would bring him into the land of the living. The Christian can say the grace that brings salvation to me on earth will bring me to the glory in heaven.
For the psalmist the phrase named a real hope of rescue in this world, at God's timing.
In the end, he looks for and trusts God for rescue in this present life, in the land of the living. Meanwhile he must wait on Jehovah. He would step in at the right time; He would strengthen the heart meanwhile.
For the Christian the ground has shifted. Another writer sets the two side by side: what this world was to the Jew, and what it is now.
To the Jew, this world was the land of the living. It was the place of his blessing... But to the Christian, we may say, it is the land of the dying. "I protest," says Paul … "I die daily." It is also the land of death — the death of the Lord Jesus Christ... And where, it may be asked, is the place of the Christian's joy and blessing? In heavenly places in Christ.
The psalm rests on resurrection ground. The confidence here is not hope of survival. It is a stand taken in God Himself.
Resurrection shines brightly and clearly throughout this Psalm. The soul takes and keeps its stand in God, who owns as His people not the dead but the living (Matt. 22:32)... The soul, once joined by faith to the living God, is forever above the enemy (Rom. 8:31-39).
Commentators differ over the timing. One writer looks on to glory; another insists the goodness is seen even now:
We too, just as David, may easily lose heart if our faith wavers. Instead we should remember that we shall "see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living" (v. 13), not only in heavenly glory, but even now with enemies surrounding us.
Verse 13 does not stand alone. It leads straight into the closing instruction of the psalm.
All that we have to face on the way can be met with "good courage", for the Lord will support us if we walk in His way. He will strengthen the heart. There is grace along the way. There is also the final mercy that delivers us from a world of death and brings us into the goodness of the land of the living. For both, let us "Wait on the Lord."
- Pressure. Left to himself, this godly man would have fainted. He speaks from the edge of collapse, not from above the trouble.
- Belief. Believing he would see God's goodness was his stay and support. The sentence breaks off because faith cuts in before the fear can finish.
- Sight. He expects to see God's goodness in the land of the living: rescue in God's own timing. Commentators differ over how much is seen now and how much waits for glory.
- Ground. The confidence rests on the living God, who owns as His people not the dead but the living. The soul joined to Him is forever above the enemy.
- Waiting. The psalm leaves one instruction: wait on the Lord, with good courage. He strengthens the heart in the meantime.
Wait for Jehovah; be strong and let thy heart take courage yea, wait for Jehovah.
The psalm ends with an instruction, not an ask. It comes from a man who has just described enemies, false witnesses, and the fear that God had left him. Having told God his trouble, he turns and tells someone else what to do with theirs.
The final words are the conclusion of an experience, not advice offered from a safe distance. One writer draws two lessons out of what the psalmist went through, and the last verse is where they land:
Two lessons, drawn from what he had been through, close the Psalm... Believing he would see this goodness had held him up. Then he tells us, from his own experience, that the only resource for a soul under trial is to wait for the LORD. Then he urges them: be strong, and He will strengthen your heart. Last of all he repeats the sum of everything he has to say: wait for the LORD. And the LORD Himself has said, "Those who wait for me shall not be put to shame." (Isaiah 49:23.)
What makes this verse striking is what the psalm never mentions. There is no ally, no plan, no human help anywhere in it.
The goodness of the LORD — no human means — is the resource of the heart... The result is, wait on the LORD. He strengthens the heart. "Wait, I say, on the LORD." This, indeed, is the secret of strength in the time of evil. There is, then, nothing to fear... It is remarkable how completely the thought of any other resource or help than the LORD is missing. And this is what keeps a person honest, because the LORD only helps in a way that keeps the heart true.
The call to wait sits right beside the call to courage, which rules out the idea that waiting is quiet defeat.
And now a lesson from experience brings this part of the psalm to a fitting close. It is a very brief and a very simple one; yet it is a lesson of perfection... "Wait for the LORD!" Wait — but not in weakness or fear. The call to patience is no reason to be afraid: "be strong, and let your heart take courage!"... Test it, prove it, anyone who will! Who is there who cannot prove it for himself? No one!
If waiting were easy, the psalm would not need to say it twice. The pressure comes from inside us — from being sure we must do something right now.
"Strengthened unto all patience." You will find there is nothing that tests the strength of your soul like waiting for God. We think we must do the things we believe are right. Instead, we must learn to wait. Take Saul, for example, in 1 Samuel 13. He ought to have waited, and said, I can do nothing.
Saul was a king of Israel. He was told to wait, ran out of patience, and acted on his own instead.
The verse does not promise that the situation will change. It promises that the person will be held up in it. Christians pray for that same strength.
The Apostle Paul bowed his knees before the Father for the believers in Ephesus. He asked that they might be strengthened (Eph. 3:14-16). In chapter 1:3 he had told them that God blessed them with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ. But they needed strength to take hold of that, and to live for God's glory here. We are blessed up there; but we need strength down here. We know where to find it. Strength belongs to God!
Up to this point the psalm has been one man speaking about himself. At the close he turns to others.
This confidence in God will not make a man impractical... The man who can rejoice in knowing God from experience will strengthen frightened believers around him by his own quiet, joyful faith. He will be able to say to them with real weight, "Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!"
- Waiting is the lesson. The command closes a psalm of enemies and fear — it is what one man learned by going through trouble, not a theory.
- Waiting is the only resource. No human help appears anywhere in the psalm; that absence is the point, and it keeps the heart honest.
- Waiting is strength, not passivity. "Be strong, let your heart take courage" stands in the same breath — patience is never a reason to be afraid.
- Waiting is the hardest test. Nothing tests a soul like it; the impulse to act, as with Saul, is what the doubled "wait, I say" is guarding against.
- Waiting is passed on. The person God strengthens turns outward and says the same words to someone still afraid.
([A Psalm] of David.) Unto thee, Jehovah, do I call; my rock, be not silent unto me, lest, [if] thou keep silence toward me, I become like them that go down into the pit.
This psalm opens with a man calling out to God with one great fear pressing on him — not that God will refuse him, but that God will say nothing at all. Two questions sit behind it: why call God his rock at the moment he feels unheard, and what makes God's silence so frightening?
One writer weighs what the act of crying out means: it ties the one praying to the God he calls on.
The heart connects itself with the LORD by crying to Him. The cry implies the LORD's interest in us, and our taking this as our starting point; it also implies our openly confessed dependence on Him. So crying and prayer to the Lord are important, and an index to the state of the soul. We may want things from the LORD and have faith in His goodness in giving, but crying to Him identifies us openly with Him, even in front of others. Here the soul is in deep distress, with the pit of the grave open before it. Here faith shows itself by crying out, when everything seemed hopeless to human eyes.
Another writer maps the shape of the psalm.
The first five verses of this psalm are a prayer of supplication; the later verses a declaration of the Lord's faithfulness. As is usual in the psalms, the first section considers God first — the Lord the Rock of solid strength, faithful and true (v. 1). David wants the Lord to speak, not to be silent, for if he has no encouragement from God he might become like those who go down to the pit. He does not mean he would be among them, for he was a believer. But sometimes we can be like the unbeliever, because we are not in communion with the Lord in a practical way.
The psalmist asks first for a voice, not for rescue. One writer finds the same weight in God's silence at the trial of Jesus.
Before Herod, Jesus never said a word. Herod was completely wicked. Jesus did answer Pilate, because there was no hatred in Pilate's heart. But He had not a word for Herod; He passed from him without opening His mouth. It is a terrible thing for God to be silent. It is better that He should be speaking to us by chastening. "Be not deaf to me, lest, if you be silent to me, I become like those who go down to the pit." Psalm 28:1. The silence of God is like putting a man into a pit. "Ephraim is joined to idols — let him alone." Hosea 4:17.
Another writer asks where we hear that voice, and what happens if we do not.
It is in His presence, away from the deadening influence of passing things, that we hear His voice. We must pray the psalmist's prayer: "Be not deaf to me, lest, if you be silent to me, I become like those who go down to the pit" (Ps. 28:1). If we do not hear God's voice, and nothing stirs us, we are like the unawakened crowds who do not know God.
Commentators press on one small word in the verse: like.
The LORD is their one resource: if He does not step in, they will be like those going down to the pit. The psalmist cannot say that he will be among those going down to the pit, but like them. Yet the shadow of death is on their souls; they fear it… The "pit," for that reason, is more than the grave, though it uses the imagery of it. Confidence is based on the Unchangeable God, and on the very dependence the needy one has on Him.
Commentators differ in emphasis: one stresses the fear of death, another the believer out of touch with God in daily life.
Read with the two psalms that follow, this cry is the low point of a rising line.
You can see a connection between Psalms 28, 29 and 30. Psalm 28 — the godly cry to be delivered from death, or the power of the pit. Psalm 29 — the Lord answers, as with an earthquake, setting the prisoner free. Psalm 30 — the delivered one owns this with praise. God had now broken His silence with such a voice of power. So His ransomed people would break theirs with a voice of praise.
- Cry — Crying out to God is more than wanting things from Him. It ties you to Him openly and shows the true state of your soul.
- Rock — The psalm names God before it names the need. He is the Rock of solid strength, faithful and true — the Unchangeable One our confidence rests on.
- Silence — God's silence is His heaviest answer. Better that He corrects us than leaves us alone, because leaving a man alone is like putting him into a pit.
- Likeness — The believer never says he will be among those going down to the pit. Without God's voice he only becomes like them, living as if he did not know God.
- Song — The silence does not last: God breaks His silence with a voice of power, and the rescued break theirs with praise.
Hear the voice of my supplications, when I cry unto thee, when I lift up my hands toward the oracle of thy holiness.
A man in distress cries out to God. As he cries, he stretches his hands toward the place where God had promised to meet with His people. Two things carry this verse: what that place was, and why a raised hand and a raised voice belong together.
Some translations say "your holy oracle" where the ESV says "your most holy sanctuary." That word points to one room, and to a promise God tied to it.
In every other place in the Old Testament the word "oracle" applies to the holy of holies. It is doubtless so called because God said, "There I will meet with you, and I will speak with you from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubim that are on the ark of the testimony, about everything that I will command you for the people of Israel."
So the outstretched hands do not reach for a building itself. They reach toward the one spot where God had promised to speak.
The direction of the prayer is not a feeling. It rests on a prayer God had already answered. At the dedication of the temple, Solomon asked God to hear those who prayed toward that house.
Confidence rests on the Unchangeable God, and on the very dependence the needy one has on Him. Solomon's prayer for all who pray toward the temple is remembered here, and becomes a ground of hope (1 Kings 8:30). The Lord's mercy is always toward those who fear Him, and toward those who hope in His mercy. He cannot deny that mercy, for He cannot deny Himself.
Commentators point to Daniel. Long after Solomon, he prayed on that same ground.
So when Daniel prayed this way, he was resting on the sure word of God. The Lord had said to Solomon, "I have heard your prayer and your plea that you have made before Me."
Raised hands make a claim about the person raising them. His works either back that claim up or break it.
You can see that he is sincere. He begs the Lord earnestly. He cries to the Lord in his distress and lifts up his hands toward God's holy sanctuary. We read in 1 Timothy 2:8 that in the church today men are to lift up holy hands, without anger and doubting. This means more than lifting up the hands. It means a character that shows itself in holy works. If our hands are stained by doubtful works, our prayers suffer too... In the same way, when we pray toward God's holy sanctuary, a sense of God's holiness should mark our souls, so that our prayers are free of hypocrisy.
Raised hands also bring God something, not only our asking.
As coming into the presence of God we are conscious that we are speaking to Him and that He is listening to us. When we bless God we offer something to Him, our hands are filled with the excellence of Christ.
The verse does not say "I ask." It says "I cry to you for help." Crying is more than asking.
The heart ties itself to Jehovah by crying to Him. The cry takes for granted that Jehovah cares about us, and it starts from that. It is also an open confession that we depend on Him. So crying and prayer to the Lord matter, and they show the state of the soul. We may want things from Jehovah and trust His goodness in giving. But crying to Him openly identifies us with Him, even in front of others... Here faith shows itself in crying, when everything looked hopeless to human eyes.
Commentators also read this psalm as more than one man's prayer. They hear the Spirit of Christ crying in a faithful group in Israel, tried by living among the wicked.
The Spirit of Christ speaks in this Psalm (holding this power of intercession) in the faithful remnant — or Christ speaks as the Head of that remnant. He voices the trial of their link with the wicked in Jerusalem... But they look to Jehovah. They cry, and beg Him not to be silent. The reference is to "the Oracle."
The plea of verse 2 does not go unanswered. By verse 6 the same man is praising, because the Lord heard his cry.
The godly soul has the consciousness that the Lord has heard his cry. He trusted, was helped, and rejoices. His confidence rests on Christ. He can say that the Lord is not only the strength of the godly, but "He is the saving strength of His anointed one" (Darby Translation).
- The place. The "holy oracle" is the innermost room of God's house. It has that name because God promised to meet His people there and speak from above the mercy seat.
- The promise. Praying toward it was not superstition. Solomon had asked God to hear such prayers, and this psalm leans on that word.
- The hands. Lifted hands claim sincerity. Hands stained by bad works weaken prayer, and hands lifted in blessing are filled with the excellence of Christ.
- The cry. Crying is more than asking. It ties us to God in front of others, and it shows the state of the soul.
- The answer. The plea of verse 2 becomes praise in verse 6. God hears, and confidence rests on Him as the saving strength of His Anointed.
Draw me not away with the wicked, and with the workers of iniquity, who speak peace to their neighbours, and mischief is in their heart.
Psalm 28 is the prayer of a man surrounded by people whose words and hearts do not match. He asks God not to sweep him away when judgment falls on them. What makes these people so dangerous? And why should God treat this man any differently?
The plea is about judgment, not about company. This man prays as one of a faithful few, and he fears the coming ruin will sweep up everyone alike.
But the judgment of the world has come, and only judgment can deliver Israel. So again we have the remnant's prayer for the destruction of the wicked. Evil has reached its height. In the threat that comes with it, it might well seem that no one could escape at all — that ruin would swallow up evil and just alike, making no distinction. We can well understand, then, the cry, "Do not drag me off with the wicked!" With them the smooth outside only disguises the treachery of their hearts.
The verse names two dangers, not one: being dragged off with the wicked, and being taken in by them.
In the middle of a wicked nation that is going down to the pit, the godly Jew appeals to the Lord to hear his cry — that he may not be drawn away with the wicked, or deceived by the fair show they put on.
How a man prays shapes what he can put up with — and what can fool him.
When someone is completely honest in his prayers, the hypocrisy of the wicked becomes disgusting to him. So David pleads not to be taken away with the wicked. How can a true believer put up with an association like this? Sadly, the smooth words and speeches of a deceiver sometimes fool believers. This happened to Gedaliah when Ishmael came to him (Jer. 40:8). Johanan warned Gedaliah that Ishmael planned to kill him. Gedaliah refused the warning, and was soon murdered (Jer. 40:13-16; 41:1-2). If Gedaliah had prayed as David did in this psalm, he might have escaped an early death. We may excuse ourselves by saying that someone deceived us. But if a believer is deceived, it is his own fault. Fellowship with the Lord keeps us from all deception.
The plea rests on something. Verses 1 and 2 have already established it: this man has called out to God, and that calling is itself the dividing line.
The heart connects itself with Jehovah by crying to Him. The cry implies that Jehovah has an interest in us, and that we make this our starting point. It also implies that we openly confess our dependence on Him. So crying and prayer to the Lord matter, and they show the state of the soul. We may desire things from Jehovah and have faith in His goodness in giving, but crying to Him identifies us with Him openly, even before others… This connection with Jehovah stands out here, because it is the ground for not being drawn away with the wicked in judgment.
The same writer notes that an earlier psalm asks the same thing on different ground.
In Psalm 26 the ground for not being drawn away like this was the integrity of the believer in his ways. Here it is this connection with Jehovah, shown in calling upon Him. The wickedness of evildoers is the ground on which we look for their judgment. Yet their disregard of Jehovah is declared to be the ground of their destruction.
Commentators read the psalm as reaching beyond David's own day, to a faithful few left in Israel. On this reading the deceivers are not outsiders. They belong to the nation itself.
Psalm 28 is the voice of Christ in the remnant, in the trial of the last days. But I take the wicked here to be the unrenewed and unyielding Jews, led by Antichrist and joined to him. Wickedness is their settled character, and over time this makes those who fear the Lord a remnant… This psalm teaches much about how the remnant develops, and how they stand apart from the mass of people with whom they first returned as one body. In those others all wickedness and deceit is included.
- Cry. The prayer starts with calling on God. That open dependence is what sets this man apart from the crowd he fears being judged with.
- Company. Being dragged off with the wicked is about sharing their judgment, not their friendship. The fear is of ruin that makes no distinction.
- Cover. Their sin is not loud. Peaceful words hide an evil heart, and the smooth outside disguises treachery.
- Caution. Believers can be fooled by such speech; Gedaliah ignored the warning and died for it. The deceived believer has no excuse.
- Cure. Honest prayer makes hypocrisy repulsive. Fellowship with the Lord keeps a person from being fooled at all.
Give them according to their doing, and according to the wickedness of their deeds; give them after the work of their hands, render to them their desert.
In verse 3 the psalmist begs not to be dragged away with the wicked. Verse 4 turns and asks God to pay those men back for their own work — what they do, what they intend, what their hands make. Two questions follow. Is such a prayer just? And may a believer pray it today?
This prayer fits the direction of the whole psalm. One writer sets Psalm 28 beside the psalm before it:
Psalm 27 looks to the LORD according to promise, and the godly one's desire is toward Him. Psalm 28 looks for judgment on the wicked. It asks that the godly not be counted with them, but that, as the LORD's people, they should be saved. This psalm goes further than the ones before it. It looks more clearly at the results of the LORD stepping in.
What gives the psalmist the right to ask for a different end than the wicked? Not his own record, but his crying to God. And their evil deeds are not the deepest reason for their ruin:
In Psalm 26 the ground for not being drawn away with the wicked was the integrity of the believer in his ways. Here the ground is his connection with the LORD, shown by calling on Him. The wickedness of evildoers is the reason their judgment is expected. Yet their disregard of the LORD is the stated ground of their destruction.
The prayer asks for nothing extra. It asks that the wicked get back their own deeds and their own aims. But one writer places it in a later day, and gives it to a faithful group in Israel — a remnant:
David asks that the wicked may bear the results of their evil deeds, and be repaid according to the wickedness of their aims. In our own day of grace, we are not to pray for such judgment on enemies. We pray instead that they may be saved. But when the day of grace has ended, the godly remnant of Israel will then be right to plead for the judgment of the ungodly. It will be right then to ask that God will give them what they deserve.
Some readers dismiss psalms like this as primitive. Others try to reword them as Christian prayers. One writer rejects both moves:
Look at those who try to turn what belongs to the Jew into something Christian, and who say that the psalms of cursing belong to a savage age! How would Psalm 109:4-13 suit you? It is completely opposed to everything we have been reading about the principles of the kingdom, and to the spirit of the Christian. But it will be quite right for the remnant. So unless we learn to divide the word of truth rightly, we get into terrible difficulties. The whole Bible is for us, but not all of it is about us.
So whose voice is this, and who are these wicked men? One writer names both:
Psalm 28 is the voice of Christ in the remnant, in the trial of the last days. But I take the wicked to be the Jews who were never renewed and would not yield, led by the Antichrist and joined with him. Wickedness is their settled character. Step by step this makes those who fear the LORD a remnant. Their portion is told in verse 5.
Would answering this prayer make God less kind? One writer argues the reverse:
God has borne long with evildoers. But patience is not indifference. At last patience must give way to awesome judgment, once the evil shows itself to be past all cure... Since they reject every effort on His part to build them up, the only choice left is to destroy them. Does this mean He is no longer a merciful God? Not at all! It is mercy on His part to act in judgment against evil. It is mercy that frees His creation from the tyranny of wicked men — men who despise mercy as though it were weakness.
- Cry — The sufferer calls on God instead of acting himself. That connection with the LORD, not his own record, is what marks him off from the wicked.
- Separation — Verse 4 completes verse 3. To ask that the wicked get back their own work is to ask not to share their end.
- Measure — The prayer asks for exact repayment — deeds, aims, handiwork, and nothing more. But the deeper charge against them is their disregard of God.
- Timing — Writers read this as the coming cry of faithful Israelites in the last days. While the day of grace lasts, we pray instead that our enemies be saved. The whole Bible is for us, but not all of it is about us.
- Mercy — When God answers such a prayer at last, He has not stopped being merciful. Ending evil that cannot be cured is mercy toward everyone it crushed.
For they regard not the deeds of Jehovah, nor the work of his hands he will destroy them, and not build them up.
Psalm 28 is a prayer for rescue. In verse 5 it turns into a verdict, giving the reason for judgment before the judgment itself. The verse hangs on one contrast — men take no notice of what God has done, so God will not build them up but pull them down.
Verses 3 and 4 describe men who speak peace to their neighbours while evil is in their hearts. Verse 5 goes underneath that behaviour to its source.
This is their character towards men. But the source of all the evil is their complete ignorance of Jehovah. His works are before them. The works of His hands are all around them. Such ignorance means only that they are cut off from Him. Being morally unable to see what is of Him is simply the sign of how deep-rooted the evil is. And because the evil cannot be cured, it must be cut out with the sharpest surgery — in real mercy to mankind.
God's works stand in plain view. Refusing to see them is itself the charge.
The second half of the verse sounds harsh — no building up, only tearing down. One writer asks whether that means God has stopped being merciful.
God has borne long with evildoers, but patience is not indifference. Patience must in the end give way to awesome judgment, once the evil stands exposed as completely incurable. The Great Tribulation will bring clearly to light the determined guilt of mankind — the stubborn rebellion that refuses every advance of kindness... Since they reject every effort on His part to build them up, the only alternative is to destroy them. Does this mean He is no longer a merciful God? Not at all! Rather, it is mercy on His part to act in judgment against evil. It is mercy that frees His creation from the tyranny of wicked men — men who despise mercy as though it were weakness.
One writer, Mr. Constable, claimed that the Hebrew word here, haras, is often used of punishment after death. Another writer answers him.
We can hardly trust Mr. Constable's statements. He says the next word, haras, is "another word in frequent use for future punishment." There is one passage he may have thought applied — Psalm 28:5: "He shall destroy [or overthrow] them, and not build them up." But it has no necessary reference to another state at all.
The ESV says God will "tear them down". Older wording says "destroy" or "overthrow". Either way, the verse speaks of an overthrow. It does not settle questions about life after death.
Commentators read this psalm as more than David's private complaint. Several read it as the cry of a faithful few in Israel during a coming time of trouble. Verse 5 announces the end of the enemies around them.
Psalm 28 is the voice of Christ in the remnant, in the trial of the last days. But I take the wicked, strictly speaking, to be the unrenewed and unyielding Jews, led by Antichrist and joined with him. Wickedness is their settled character, and it gradually makes those who fear the Lord a remnant. Verse 5 tells their portion. But the Lord has heard Christ for the remnant, and the remnant see that Jehovah is the strength of their Messiah.
Read that way, the verse marks a dividing line. The same works of God that some ignore, others trust for their salvation.
Some refused to regard, for their salvation, the works of Jehovah and the work of His hands (verse 5). Then, by a fearful sign, they shall find that power to destroy, as well as to redeem, belongs to Him alone.
Verse 4 asks God to repay the wicked, and verse 5 announces He will. A believer today should not simply copy that prayer.
David asks that the wicked may bear the results of their ungodly deeds, and according to the wickedness of their aims. In our own day of grace, we may not pray for such judgment on enemies. We should pray instead that they may be saved. But when the day of grace has ended, the godly remnant of Israel will rightly plead for the judgment of the ungodly. It will be right then to ask God to give them what they deserve (v. 4).
- Blindness. The root sin is not the deceit of verses 3–4 but the refusal beneath it. Men will not notice what God has done, though His works stand all around them.
- Incurable. God treats that refusal as settled and beyond cure. Judgment falls only after evil stands fully exposed.
- Mercy. Tearing down is itself an act of mercy — it frees creation from men who mistake God's patience for weakness.
- Overthrow. The word rendered "destroy" means overthrow. One writer argues that the verse settles nothing about life beyond death.
- Two hands. The same hands men ignored will one day prove that the power to destroy, as well as to redeem, belongs to God alone. That is why prayer now is for the salvation of enemies, not their ruin.
Blessed be Jehovah, for he hath heard the voice of my supplications.
Psalm 28 opens with a man crying out to God in deep distress. By verse 6 his tone has turned to blessing, which raises the question the whole psalm turns on: what happened between the cry and the praise?
The verse sits at the hinge of the psalm. Everything before it is a plea; everything after it is confidence:
So here, Jehovah has heard and helped; Jehovah has shown Himself both strength and shield; He has answered prayer, and praise follows.
The praise also has a dark background. One writer sets the believer's blessing beside the fate of the wicked, and says what the answered cry has taught him about God:
The ungodly go to destruction. The Lord richly blesses the believer instead, for He has heard the voice of his pleas for mercy. In the quiet confidence of faith the believer knows the Lord as his "strength and shield" — strength to meet the attacks of the enemy, and a shield of perfect protection.
"The voice of my pleas for mercy" is not just a request for help. Crying out ties a person openly to God, and it shows the real state of the heart.
The heart ties itself to Jehovah by crying to Him. The cry assumes that Jehovah takes an interest in us, and it makes that our starting point. It also declares openly that we depend on Him. So crying and prayer to the Lord matter, and they show the state of the soul. We may want things from Jehovah and trust His goodness in giving, but crying to Him identifies us with Him in front of other people... Faith showed itself here in crying, when to human eyes all seemed hopeless. This link with Jehovah is clearly marked here, since it is made the ground for not being swept away with the wicked in judgment.
The verse blesses the LORD, not the escape. Deliverance does something to the heart that the rescue by itself could never do.
There is more, much more, in Jehovah's delivering us than the deliverance itself. He has delivered us. The heart clung to Him, adored Him, looked up to Him, believed Him — and He has not failed us. How true this is! And how it attaches the heart to Him afresh... Looking to Jehovah with confidence is really entering into His character and being shaped by it. We value it, delight in it, honour it, and count it impossible that He could be anything else.
Nothing in the psalm says the danger has passed. The praise rises in the middle of the distress, not after it.
The closing verses (6-9) sweetly express the confidence that faith knows how to feel at the very lowest point of distress. God Himself has trained that faith in the ways of the God who keeps His promises. The Christian knows the secret of a command that would otherwise sound very strange: "give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Thessalonians 5:18).
An answer given on the road points forward to the greater rescue at the end of it:
Here is the experience that produces hope. Along the way, before the end has come, Jehovah still shows Himself by stepping in clearly, and each act looks ahead to the full deliverance still to come. How blessed are the first signs of the dawn, though the dawn has not come. How good the help along the way, sent from Him who waits for us at the end of the way!
The psalm does not end with one man's rescue. One writer hears Christ's own voice here, crying on behalf of a faithful few:
Psalm 28 is the voice of Christ in the remnant — the faithful few — in the trial of the last days... Verse 5 tells the portion of the wicked; but the Lord has heard Christ for the remnant, and the remnant see that Jehovah is the strength of their Messiah. The last verse is the blessing prayed by the One who steps in for them, and it opens the door into the millennial glory, the glory of His coming reign as Lord.
- Voice heard. The verse names what changed. The circumstances did not change; God listened. He answered prayer, and praise followed.
- Voice raised. Crying out is more than asking. It openly ties a person to God, and that tie is the ground for not being swept away with the wicked in judgment.
- Voice trusted. The gift is bigger than the rescue. The heart that looked to Him learns that He does not fail, and clings to Him more closely than before.
- Voice answered early. Help along the way is a first sign of the dawn, not full daylight. That is why faith can give thanks while the distress goes on.
- Voice shared. The hearing is not private. The Lord hears Christ for a faithful people, and that answer opens the door into the glory of His coming reign.
Jehovah is my strength and my shield; my heart confided in him, and I was helped therefore my heart exulteth, and with my song will I praise him.
Psalm 28 opens with a man crying to God from the edge of the grave. He fears that heaven will stay silent. He asks God not to sweep him away with people who speak friendly words while they plan evil. By verse 7 everything has changed. God has heard the cry, and the same voice that begged is now singing.
The verse sits on the hinge of the psalm. God has given what the opening verses asked for, and the writer names what God proved Himself to be. The writers below call Him Jehovah, the personal name of God used in the Old Testament.
Here Jehovah has heard and helped. He has shown Himself both strength and shield. He has answered the prayer, and praise follows.
"Strength" and "shield" are not repetition. One meets the enemy; the other keeps the man safe while he does.
The wicked are destroyed, but the Lord richly blesses the believer. The Lord has heard his pleading. In the quiet confidence of faith he calls the Lord his "strength and shield" — strength to meet the attacks of the enemy, and a shield of perfect protection. He trusts in Him, and so he says, "I am helped." His heart then fills with joy and with singing praise to the Lord.
The help in verse 7 answers the calling out of verses 1 and 2. That calling out is not a formality. It is a sign of where a soul stands.
The heart connects itself with Jehovah in crying to Him. The cry assumes that Jehovah cares about us. We start from that, and we openly admit that we depend on Him. So crying and prayer to the Lord matter, and they show the state of the soul. We may want things from Jehovah and believe He is good to give them. But crying to Him ties us to Him in public, in front of other people. Here the psalmist is in extreme distress — the pit of the grave lies open before him… Here his faith shows itself in crying out, when to human eyes all seemed hopeless.
Notice the singular and personal note: it is my heart that trusted. The rescue is not the whole gain. It also proves that the heart's estimate of God was right all along.
But Jehovah's rescue gives us far more than the rescue itself. He has delivered us. The heart was attached to Him, adored Him, looked up to Him, believed Him, and He has not failed us. Oh, how true this is, and how it attaches the heart to Him afresh! So here (vv. 6, 7), "in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to Him." Looking to Jehovah with that confidence means truly entering into His character and being shaped by it. You value it, delight in it, honour it, and count it impossible that He should be anything else.
The same writer puts it in everyday terms. Think of a friend you would stake your life on. Now picture a moment when his coming to help looks impossible.
I am sure he will come. I rely with affection on what he is… To my mind he is greater than any circumstance, because he acts out of his own excellence. That is what I value and depend on… When he has acted, I rejoice in him, in my estimate of him. I say, I knew my judgment of him was right; I knew him, and what he is.
In verse 7 the strength is "my" strength. In verse 8 it belongs to God's people and to His anointed one. The psalm then closes by asking God to save the whole nation. One writer reads the psalm as prophecy — the voice of Christ heard in a faithful few of Israel during a coming time of trial.
In Psalm 28 the psalmist cries out in distress — if Jehovah does not step in, he will go down to the pit. He prays that God will not drag him away with the wicked, and his heart rejoices that the Lord has heard. Here we find the Spirit of Christ throughout, leading the cry of the faithful few. "The LORD is my strength," "The LORD is the strength of His people" — "He is the saving refuge of His anointed" — "Oh, save Your people," it closes.
- Cry. Calling on God in trouble is not a last resort. It is the mark of real dependence, and it ties you to Him in front of others.
- Trust. The heart's confidence is a verdict on God's character — you are saying He cannot be other than good.
- Help. God answers with strength for the fight and a shield around the fighter. Together they are what "I am helped" means.
- Song. Praise is the natural next step after answered prayer. Rescue binds the heart to the Rescuer more closely than before.
- Widening. The psalm will not stop at "my" — it moves out to God's people and His Anointed, ending in prayer for all of them.
Jehovah is their strength; and he is the stronghold of salvation to his anointed one.
This psalm began as a cry for help, and by verse 8 the singer knows the LORD has heard him: praise has replaced pleading. That praise now turns outward — from what God is to one man in trouble, to what He is to a whole people and to His anointed one.
The verse before this one is personal. Here the same confidence widens to cover the nation, and it runs on into the prayer of verse 9:
We have already seen that the Psalmist expects Israel's deliverance as well as his own (25:21-22). So here he adds (28:8-9), "Jehovah is their strength, and He is the saving strength of His anointed. Save Your people, and bless Your inheritance; feed them also, and lift them up for ever."
"Anointed" is a title, and it carries office — three offices:
Messiah and Christ both mean "the Anointed." The former is Hebrew; the latter Greek. The anointing is consecration. In His case it is, first, as Prophet, for He carries the word of the Most High; second, as Priest, the One who leads divine worship; and third, as King, the One who leads government. "God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power" (Acts 10:38).
David stood for Israel in his own day, and that place points beyond him:
The soul of the psalmist quietly settles down in the assurance that the strength of God is his resting place. We see both the strength and the refuge in verse 8. And it is above all the refuge of His Anointed, that is, the Lord Jesus, the Representative of His people, as David was the representative of Israel in his time.
This lasting safety rests on what God is to His Anointed. Where the ESV says "saving refuge," older translations read "a stronghold of salvation":
The heart goes on to see the security of the lasting blessing. It follows of necessity from what God is to His anointed. The Spirit rests on Him in fullness because of what He is (Matt. 3:16-17). He is the One who enlists all the power of God on His side, in the conflict between good and evil that must last as long as evil lasts on the earth. "A stronghold of salvation to His Anointed He!" So to be under Him is to find deliverance assured. He is the "Captain of salvation," saving completely all who come to God through Him.
The verse names God twice: strength for the people, and refuge for His anointed. Confidence rests on the Anointed One, who suffered for them and came through it:
The godly soul has the consciousness that the Lord has heard his cry. He trusted, was helped, and rejoices. The ground of his confidence is Christ. He can say that the Lord is not only the strength of the godly, but "He is the saving strength of his anointed one." So the godly take hold of what God provides in grace. They plead the Anointed One — Christ — who has stepped in and suffered for them, and was saved out of all His sufferings (Ps. 22:21).
Verse 8 is the reason the prayer of verse 9 can be asked at all:
If the Anointed One has been saved out of His sufferings, those for whom He suffered will be saved. So the psalmist can say to God with confidence, "Save your people, and bless your inheritance." For a time they may have to pass through suffering and appear to be cast down. Even so, God will feed them and at last lift them up for ever, unlike those who go down to the pit (v. 1).
- Anointed — "Messiah" and "Christ" mean the same thing: set apart to office as Prophet, Priest and King, and God anointed Jesus of Nazareth.
- Representative — as David stood for Israel, the Anointed stands for His people. God's strength toward Him is His strength toward them.
- Stronghold — God is "a stronghold of salvation to His Anointed." To be under Him is to find deliverance assured.
- Plea — the godly do not plead their own record. They plead the Anointed One, who suffered for them and came out of all His sufferings.
- Outcome — because God saved Him out of suffering, we can pray for His people with confidence: saved, blessed, fed, and lifted up for ever.
Save thy people, and bless thine inheritance; and feed them, and lift them up for ever.
Psalm 28 starts with one man in trouble, afraid of going down to the pit. It ends with a prayer for a whole nation. The last verse asks four things: rescue, blessing, shepherding, and carrying that never ends.
The psalm's closing section turns from the man's own danger to everyone who belongs to God. One writer marks the shift in the second half of the psalm:
The answer of God to all this is then anticipated with praise, and suited intercession, embracing all God's people, as well as the one making the request.
The verse before this one names God as the saving strength of His Anointed. That is what makes the final request confident rather than hopeful guesswork:
If the Anointed One has been saved out of His sufferings, those for whom He suffered will be saved. So the psalmist can say to God with confidence, "Oh, save your people and bless your heritage!" For a time they may have to pass through suffering and look cast down. Even so, God will feed them and at last lift them up for ever — unlike those who go down to the pit (v. 1).
Note the contrast. The psalm opens with a man dreading the pit. It closes with a people lifted up forever.
Each verb adds something the one before it does not. Rescue alone is not enough; a rescued people still needs feeding, and a fed people still needs to be held up.
The godly, moved by the Spirit of Christ, look ahead and long for this: that Jehovah should have His people and bless His inheritance. (Faith in covenant blessing and relationship runs through all this part of the Psalms.) They long, too, that He should feed them and lift them up for ever. Deliverance, blessing, feeding, and unchanging exaltation — these are the fruits expected when Jehovah comes in with power.
The words "be their shepherd" cover more than food. They cover the daily care of a flock:
In lowly confidence he depends on God to save His people (v. 9) and bless His inheritance, for His people are His inheritance. He asks for more than saving. He wants God to shepherd them — to guard, guide and encourage them with His hand, and to hold them up without fail.
The last words ask God to carry His people. One writer sees a burden handed over to someone strong enough to bear it:
At the close of the psalm the faith of the remnant, soon to be the nation, turns to Him, to put the burden of Israel's need upon His strong shoulder... Now they own Him as Saviour and Shepherd, and own themselves as His people and His inheritance. The lost sheep, once found, has its place on His shoulder — the tender picture He Himself drew. Once again, looking back on this part of their history, it will be said, and they will know it as never before: "He bore them and carried them all the days of old."
The high priest of Israel wore two stones on his shoulders engraved with the names of the tribes. One writer joins that image to this verse and then presses the obvious question:
The shoulder is the place of power. So the good shepherd lays His once-lost sheep on His shoulder and brings it home rejoicing (Luke 15:5). In Psalm 28:9 we read: "Oh, save your people and bless your heritage! Be their shepherd and carry them forever." The Great High Priest remembers every saint in this way and holds each one up by His power — power that overcomes all the might of Satan and of death. Merit has nothing to do with this; it is all of grace alone... If Christ only took an interest in those who deserved His interest, where would even the best of us stand?
- One direction. The four requests move one way: saved from the pit, blessed as God's own, shepherded day by day, carried forever.
- The Anointed is the ground. God brought His Anointed out of suffering. So the psalmist can ask for His people with confidence, not just wish for them.
- Owned as inheritance. God's people are His own portion, so blessing them is God blessing what belongs to Him.
- Shepherding is more than food. It means guarding, guiding and encouraging. God holds His people up without fail; He does not just feed them once.
- Grace, not deserving. The shoulder is the place of power, and every saint rests there by grace alone. If Christ only cared for those who deserved it, none of us would be carried.
(A Psalm of David.) Give unto Jehovah, ye sons of the mighty ones, give unto Jehovah glory and strength;
The psalm opens not with a prayer but with a command, and the ones commanded are the strongest people there are. Two questions run through the first line. Who are these "heavenly beings" — in other translations, "the sons of the mighty"? And what can anyone give to God that is not already His?
The title in this verse comes from a Hebrew word for strength, one used across the Old Testament for God Himself.
El, "the strong or mighty one." It is often used of God, especially in Job and the Psalms. Job 5:8; Ps. 22:1, etc.; and of the Lord Jesus in Isa. 9:6. It is also used for the false gods, Ps. 81:9; Dan. 11:36; and is translated "mighty" in Ps. 29:1; Ps. 82:1.
Commentators differ here. Some read the phrase as an address to angels. Others say it speaks to human rulers, the men God set in power on earth.
The word translated "mighty" literally means "gods." We are told it never means "God" on its own, but always "the gods" (Ex. 15:11; Dan. 11:36). It does not refer to angels. It refers to the mighty men who answer to God as His representatives in government on the earth (John 10:34-35). Such men have always failed. First they sought to rule in their own strength. Then they used their position of power to build up their own glory.
The other reading rests on how the same expression works elsewhere in the older books of the Bible.
You cannot deny that "sons of God," in the early books of the Bible (Job 1:6, Job 2:1, Job 38:7), is used for angels. The same phrase, in a slightly different Hebrew form, is what we read in Ps. 29:1 and Ps. 89:6.
The command tells them to trace their glory and strength back to their only Source.
The psalm begins by calling the "sons of the mighty" to give Jehovah His place of supremacy over all. Most readers, it seems, take it as an address to angels. But what follows shows it is spoken to the mighty of the earth. It is a message like the one in Rev. 14:6-7, the message of the "everlasting gospel," which announces the coming kingdom of God. They are to ascribe glory and strength to Jehovah as the only Source of these.
The two things asked for here are part of what God has revealed about Himself. His name holds them, just as it holds mercy, goodness and righteousness.
The name of Jehovah means what He is in Himself. It reveals His character, and also His relationship with His people. His name (or glory) and His people's blessing go together. But making His glory our first aim is the only true way to secure our blessing… So "glory and strength" are in that name (Ps. 29:1); "mercy and truth" (Ps. 115:1); "goodness" (Ps. 25:7); "loving-kindness" (Ps. 138:2); "righteousness" (Ps. 143:1).
The psalms just before this one are full of pleading. This one is the reply.
The voice of His trusting people is hushed; His voice is now heard. From Psalm 25 to 28 we have watched the inner struggle of the faithful few left in Israel. We heard their prayers. We learned of their hopes and expectations, and of their trials and sorrows. Their last prayer in the Psalm before this one was "Save your people," and now we see Him rising to save them. His glory and strength, the glory of His Name, will now be displayed.
The verse speaks to the powerful, but the weak are meant to overhear it.
Psalm 29 calls the mighty to hear the mightier voice of Jehovah. They are to acknowledge Him and worship before Him according to the holy order of His house… But this Jehovah is above the proud roar of created strength, like waves crashing against Him. He sits as King for ever, above it all and despite it all. And He, this mighty Jehovah, will give strength to His people and bless them with peace. It is a real encouragement for the faithful. It is not their complaint or their appeal. It is a testimony given to strengthen their hearts in the presence of the mighty. The One who cares for them is mightier than they are.
- Give — the word. "Mighty" here renders a Hebrew word for the strong one, used of God, of Christ in Isaiah 9:6, and even of false gods.
- Give — who. Commentators differ. Some hear angels, as in Job. Others hear earthly rulers, men set in power as God's representatives, who have always used that power for their own glory.
- Give — what. Glory and strength, given back to Him as their only Source. They belong to His revealed name, as mercy, goodness and righteousness do.
- Give — why now. The four psalms before this are the cries of a suffering people. The last of them prays "Save your people." This psalm is God rising to answer.
- Give — the result. The command falls on the powerful. The comfort falls on the faithful: the One who cares for them is mightier than those who oppress them.
Give unto Jehovah the glory of his name; worship Jehovah in holy splendour.
Psalm 29 opens with a command, not a prayer. It speaks to the powerful: the people who usually collect glory must hand it over. Two questions sit at the centre of the verse. What does it mean to give God something He already owns? And what is the "splendor of holiness" He asks worshippers to come in?
The call in this psalm goes out to "the mighty." One writer says the word means rulers on earth, not angels.
The word used for the "mighty" literally means "gods." We are told that on its own it never means "God"; it always means "the gods." It does not refer to angelic beings. It refers to those mighty men who are responsible to God as His representatives in government on the earth. Such men have always failed. First they seek to rule in their own strength, and then they use their place of power to advance their own glory.
The glory asked for belongs to a name. One writer draws out what that name says about God, and how He accepts what is given.
They are to give Him the glory of His Name — the Ever-living, the Unchanging, who remains the same through all creature changes. And they are to give Him allegiance in the only way He can accept it: adorned with the beauty of the holiness He calls for.
One commentator ties this call for glory to the temple, the place where God set His name.
The one point I would notice is how worship is joined to this: here we own Him in His temple, where He has placed His name. He has revealed His name. Glory is due to Him as revealed, to His name. That name reveals Himself, and it is also the name of His relationship with His people. There He has placed His name, so as to form a centre of association and a revealed place of worship. So, while His voice may proclaim the majesty of that name, those who know it are drawn together by it as a place of common worship.
Translations differ here. The ESV reads "the splendor of holiness," while older versions read "the beauty of holiness." One writer explains the word behind it.
The word translated here as "beauty" is sometimes translated "glory." So for the words translated, "Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness," we have "Worship Jehovah in holy splendour."
Another writer links this holiness to God living among His people.
The great truth stamped on this wonderful thought of God dwelling among His people is holiness. "Holiness befits your house" is always true.
The word "due" makes worship a debt, not a donation. One writer traces that debt to the night God rescued Israel from Egypt. Three parties there each got what they were due.
Death and judgment were the Egyptians' due, because of their wilful sin and rebellion in the sight of God. Salvation became Israel's due, on the ground of the slain lamb and the blood-sprinkled doorposts. And worship was the Lord's due, because of what He had done — both for the glory of His great name and the blessing of His redeemed people.
No worshipper has such holiness in himself. One writer says where the beauty comes from.
How wonderful that we can give to Him! We are nothing in ourselves, and unworthy too. Yet God's rich grace sets us with the mighty, and enables us to offer to Him in the beauty of holiness — the beauty that is ours in Christ through His redeeming work at Calvary. The gift of God's love to us cannot be measured or told. Yet we can answer His infinite grace by giving back to Him, and saying, "Of your own have we given you."
- Give. The verse gives a command, not a request. Glory is God's due — a debt we owe for what He has done, not a gift we choose to make.
- Due. His name tells us what we owe: the Ever-living, the Unchanging, who stays the same while everything created shifts around Him.
- Mighty. The call goes first to rulers. They have always failed — ruling in their own strength, and using their position for their own glory. The debt falls hardest on those least used to paying it.
- Holiness. The "splendor of holiness" — older versions say "beauty of holiness" — is not ours by nature. It is ours in Christ, through His work at Calvary.
- Gathered. His revealed name is more than something to praise. It becomes a centre, drawing those who know it into one place of worship.
The voice of Jehovah is upon the waters the God of glory thundereth, -- Jehovah upon great waters.
Psalm 29 opens with a call to give glory to the LORD. This verse tells us where that glory sounds out — in a voice rolling over the waters like thunder. Two questions shape the psalm from here: whose voice is this, and what are the "many waters" it masters?
One writer notes how rare this title is, and who can take it in:
In Psalm 29 we read of the God of glory, the only place in the Old Testament that uses that title. It appears in verse 3, and verse 9 says that in His temple everyone speaks of His glory. God has brought a company into that glory with understanding, able to discern it and respond to it.
Another writer sums up the psalm: 'El' supreme, over every power that stands against Him.
The power of His voice celebrates Jehovah's Name in full (vv. 3-9): 'El' supreme, in the strength of holiness, over every opposing power. So glory is the one universal keynote of praise in His Temple.
Thunder here is not scenery. One writer gives its meaning across Scripture:
Thunder is God's voice in judgment, the expression of His authority in it (1 Sam. 7:10; Ps. 18:13; Job 26:14).
The psalm's storm pictures point beyond weather:
The greatness of Jehovah's power as the deliverer of His people, in line with the judgment that is written, is the leading topic of this Psalm. The imagery is Jewish throughout. The cedars seem to stand for the princes, and the great waters for the peoples. The day that will burn like an oven will break their strength and make their numbers few. "The voice of Jehovah" is the great theme of the Psalm. In Scripture this expression often shows the ruling power of Christ, whose name is the Word of God (Isa. 30:30-31; Ps. 2:6; Joel 3:16, etc.; cp. Rev. 19:13).
Another writer sets that coming thunder beside a day when the same voice needed none.
In the millennial age God's voice will sound with no uncertain note "over the waters" (v. 3). The surging might of the ocean's waves will be no match for the overpowering voice of God. The waters stand for "peoples and multitudes and nations and languages" (Rev. 17:15). The voice of the Son of God will subdue them all, and as the God of glory He will speak like thunder. While on earth, He did not need to speak like thunder to subdue the raging sea. He said with calm simplicity, "Peace! Be still!" (Mk. 4:39), and there was a great calm. But the nations of earth will need a voice of thunder before they are ready to listen to the Lord Jesus.
Everyone hears the thunder. Only one place grasps what it means. One writer holds the two halves of the psalm together — creation shaken outside, worship inside.
Psalm 29 summons the mighty to hear the mightier voice of Jehovah. They are to own Him and worship before Him according to the holy order of His house. The psalm celebrates the power of His voice in all creation. But there is a place of worship with understanding, where His glory is known — His temple, where men are to come. This Jehovah is above the proud raging of the surges of created strength. He sits as King for ever, above it all and in spite of it all. And He, this mighty Jehovah, will give strength to His people and bless them with peace.
Another writer makes it a matter of nearness to God:
The awesome thunderings are indeed God's voice to men, calling on them to listen to Him. But if we are to understand God's will, and to discern His glory, we must know what it is to be found in the secret of His presence.
A voice this loud could terrify God's own people. One writer sees the opposite — the faithful kept safe while the storm passes by:
This is a celebration of the power of "the voice of the Lord," who is also "the God of glory."… Think of Noah in the ark while the waters rose. Think of Lot in Zoar while fire poured down on Sodom. Think of Israel behind their Passover doors while the angel went through Egypt with the sword. So the remnant will rest in their rooms in a coming day (Isa. 26:20). They will have a song too, while the decreed vengeance takes its course (Isa. 30:32), and not a hair of theirs will perish.
- The Voice — thunder over the waters is God's voice in judgment, the open expression of His authority.
- The Waters — the "many waters" stand for crowds of people, and the cedars for their princes. That day will break their strength.
- The Speaker — writers name this voice as Christ's. He calmed a sea with "Peace! Be still!" One day He will speak to the nations in thunder.
- The Temple — everyone hears the storm, but only those near Him, in His temple, take in His glory.
- The People — the psalm that shakes the earth ends in strength and peace for His own. They rest while the judgment passes by.
The voice of Jehovah is powerful; the voice of Jehovah is full of majesty.
Psalm 29 calls the mighty of the earth to stop trusting their own strength and to give glory to God. One sound runs through the whole song — the voice of the LORD — and verse 4 tells us what that voice carries: strength and majesty.
The psalm speaks to the strong. One commentator sums up its whole movement:
Psalm 29 summons the mighty to hear the mightier voice of the LORD. It calls them to own Him and to worship before Him according to the holy order of His house, celebrating the power of His voice in all creation. But there is a place of understanding worship, where His glory is known — His temple, where people are to come. And this LORD is above the proud raging of the surges of created strength. He sits King for ever above it all, and despite it all. And He, this mighty LORD, will give strength to His people and bless them with peace. It is a positive encouragement for the faithful. It is not their complaint or appeal. It is a testimony to encourage their hearts in the presence of the mighty. He who cares for them is mightier than they.
One commentator translates the Hebrew closely. Where the ESV has "powerful" and "full of majesty," he renders it "in strength" and "in majesty":
The voice of the LORD is upon the waters; the God of glory has thundered; the LORD is upon many waters. The voice of the LORD is in strength, the voice of the LORD is in majesty. (Note: the Hebrew gives the definite article here.)
Verse 3 has just named the sound: God thunders. That sound carries a fixed meaning:
Thunder is God's voice in judgment, the expression of His authority in it.
The waters of verse 3 stand for nations. Read that way, verse 4 points to a day when human strength meets a stronger word:
The waters symbolize "peoples, multitudes, nations and tongues" (Rev. 17:15). The voice of the Son of God will subdue them all. As the God of glory, He will speak like thunder. While on earth, He did not need to speak like thunder to subdue the raging sea, but said with calm simplicity, "Peace! Be still!" (Mk. 4:39), and there was a great calm. But the nations of earth will need a voice of thunder before they are ready to listen to the Lord Jesus. He will make them feel how powerless they are. For His voice is powerful and full of majesty, and all creation will then see it proved.
The power of this voice does not depend on volume. Another writer traces it through the ministry of Christ, who never had to raise it:
That voice shakes the wilderness of Kadesh and bows the everlasting hills. It showed a still mightier force in the days of the despised Messiah's patience. At the command of the gracious healer of His people, the demons came out unwilling — and He spoke no louder than any other man. The grave of Lazarus gave back its rotting occupant at the voice of Jesus... The raging tempests fell into a peaceful calm when Jesus spoke His will to them. But far mightier than all these was this: that voice could speak into the souls of wretched sinners the divine assurance of forgiveness and of life.
The psalm ends with strength and peace for God's people. One writer reads the closing verses as the calm of those who are safe while the storm passes:
This is a celebration of the power of "the voice of the LORD," who is also "the God of glory." The last verses let us see the rest of the faithful and hear their joys. Meanwhile this power passes by to destroy the ungodly. The faithful remnant will rest, like Noah in the ark while the waters rose. They will rest like Lot in the town of Zoar while fire fell on Sodom, and like Israel behind their Passover doors while the angel went through Egypt with the sword.
- Voice. The psalm calls the mighty to hear One mightier than themselves. The One who cares for His people is stronger than they are.
- Majesty. Closer to the Hebrew, the voice is in strength and in majesty — power and glory together, not volume.
- Thunder. Thunder is God's voice in judgment, the expression of His authority.
- Nations. Waters picture peoples. A world that would not listen to a calm word will hear a voice of thunder and feel its own weakness.
- Peace. The same voice calmed storms and emptied a grave, and it still speaks forgiveness. While its power passes by in judgment, His people rest in strength and peace.
The voice of Jehovah breaketh cedars; yea, Jehovah breaketh the cedars of Lebanon
Psalm 29 pictures a storm crossing the land, and verse 5 is the moment the LORD's voice reaches the great cedars. Why does His power fall on trees at all, and what do the cedars stand for?
One writer sees the whole passage as a single storm moving across the land. The cedars break when it reaches the mountains.
This great and overwhelming judgment of the day of the Lord comes before us as a picture: a storm sweeping through the land of Israel from north to south. It shows us the unstoppable power of the Lord in judgment. We hear the voice of the Lord in the roar of the waters and the thunder of the waves. The storm breaks on the shore. It bursts in full fury on the mountains of Lebanon and Hermon, breaking the mighty cedars in pieces. Behind these destructive forces of nature is the mighty power of God that will overwhelm the nations in the coming storm of judgment.
The cedar was not picked at random. One writer follows its use through several books of the Bible.
In Scripture the cedar always stands for power or exaltation, if not pride. When the king of Israel wanted to pour contempt on the king of Judah, he compared himself to a cedar and Judah's king to a thistle (2 Kings 14:9). The Psalmist uses it to express the prosperity of the righteous, "He shall grow as the cedar in Lebanon" (Ps. 92:12). When judgment comes upon the great of the earth, the prophet Isaiah says it is the day of Jehovah upon the cedars of Lebanon (2:13). These mark the cedar as the symbol of dignity and power.
One writer sets the crash of verse 5 beside Isaiah's picture of the coming day of the Lord.
Then the crash comes. The cedars of Lebanon stand for created greatness at its full height, and they take the force of the blow. The storm shatters them and breaks them down. So the prophet announces the coming day of the Lord (Isa. 2:11-14): the proud looks of man will be humbled, the arrogance of men will be brought low, and the Lord alone will be exalted in that day. The day of the Lord of hosts will come against everyone who is proud and lofty, against everyone who is lifted up, and against all the cedars of Lebanon that are high and lifted up... The trees represent the individual rulers of the earth.
Verse 6 says the broken cedars skip like a calf. One writer takes that as proof that the psalm is not talking about real trees.
The cedar is a majestic tree. It speaks of the elite of mankind in their proud exaltation. But the Lord by His voice breaks them down, and He will humble all the pride of man in the same way. Verse 6 shows that the Lord has not been speaking of the literal cedars in verse 5, because He makes them "skip like a calf." This shows that man's pride will give way to a willing response to the sovereign work of God.
Writers also apply this line beyond the day of judgment. One writer puts the crashing voice of the psalm next to the voice of Jesus.
And how tender and sweet is the voice of Jesus, the Son of God! Long ago, the voice of Jehovah in unstoppable might broke down even the cedars of Lebanon (Ps. 29:5). At Sinai that voice made men shudder with fear and dread.
Another writer finds the same breaking power at work in the call of Levi.
What force was there in the words, "Follow Me"? None. And yet, despite himself, he rose up and followed Jesus... What mighty power was detaching Levi from everything he had in the world? It was the voice of the Lord that breaks the cedars. Do you know such a moment? We should never have been at the feet of Jesus if the Lord had not drawn us.
The shattering is not the psalm's last word. One writer reads it as encouragement for people who feel small next to the powers around them.
Psalm 29 summons the mighty to hear the mightier voice of Jehovah, to own Him and worship before Him according to the holy order of His house... But this Jehovah is above the proud raging of the waves of created strength. He sits as King forever, above it all and despite it all. And He, this mighty Jehovah, will give strength to His people and bless them with peace... The One who cares for them is mightier than they are.
- Voice — the psalm pictures a storm sweeping the land, and verse 5 is the moment it hits the heights.
- Cedars — in Scripture the cedar stands for dignity, power and pride. It pictures the greatness of man, not the timber of Lebanon.
- Broken — the blow lands on everything lofty. That is what the day of the Lord does.
- Skipping — the broken trees also leap like a calf. God humbles pride and gives glad response in its place.
- Peace — the voice that shatters the mighty gives strength and peace to His people. The One who cares for them is stronger than they are.
And he maketh them to skip like a calf, Lebanon and Sirion like a young buffalo.
This verse keeps the storm moving: after the cedars snap, the mountains themselves start to leap. The psalm names two of the highest peaks in the region and makes them jump like young animals — so what does that picture say about God's voice?
Sirion is not a second, unknown place. Different peoples used different names for the same mountain:
A great mountain on the north-east border of Palestine. It forms the highest part of the Anti-Lebanon range. Its highest peak is 9,200 feet above the sea, and is almost always covered with snow. The Sidonians called it SIRION (Deuteronomy 3:9; Psalm 29:6), and the Amorites called it SHENIR.
The second half of the verse names an animal, "a young wild ox" in the ESV. The same dictionary explains the word behind it:
The Hebrew word is reem. The Authorized Version translated it "unicorn," but nothing in Scripture suggests the animal had only one horn... Its great strength and wildness are its main features: it cannot be used for farm work, as a tame ox can... It is most probably a species of wild ox.
So what does the leaping picture? One writer stays inside the storm and reads the trees and the mountains as two levels of human power:
This is no exaggeration, and it is not untrue to nature. Nor are we to think of an earthquake, which would bring in a different element from the one we are dealing with. This is no common storm. The hills themselves tremble and start like a frightened animal before Jehovah. The governments of the earth seem to be in view here, while the trees stand for the individual rulers: all that is most stable quakes.
Another writer names the day this storm stands for:
The psalm pictures this great and overwhelming judgment of the day of the Lord as a storm that sweeps through the land of Israel from north to south. It brings before us the irresistible power of the Lord in judgment. We hear the voice of the Lord in the roar of the waters and the thunder of the waves. The storm breaks on the shore and bursts in all its fury on the mountains of Lebanon and Hermon, breaking the mighty cedars in pieces.
Commentators differ on the tone of the skipping. Another writer takes verse 6 as proof that the psalm is not speaking of literal trees at all:
Verse 6 shows that the Lord has not been speaking of the literal cedars in verse 5. He makes them "skip like a calf," which shows that man's pride will give way to a willing response to the sovereign work of God. Lebanon and Sirion will also come under God's gracious and powerful dealings, and will respond as a young wild ox. They lie outside the bounds of Israel, and so are spoken of as "wild."
The storm has a limit and a purpose. The same writer traces both:
The next verse shows the limit of the storm. It comes from the north of the land of Israel, from Lebanon and Hermon (Sirion), and sweeps past the territory of Judah in the south, dying away in the wilderness of Kadesh-barnea, where the people wandered so long after the exodus... The course of the storm is the course of the invasion of Israel's foes in the last days. God uses the enemy as His rod in a correction that works repentance. Then He comes Himself to deliver them. It is the "great and terrible day of the Lord," but it ends in refreshment, revival, and eternal salvation.
The psalm does not end in the storm. Its closing verses turn to those who have worshipped in the temple:
The closing verses give the blessed result for those who have been into the temple and worshipped the Lord in the beauty of holiness. They realize that whatever the storms of this world, the Lord is above them. However great the might of the mighty ones, the Lord is mightier. They may be mighty for a time; Jehovah is "King for ever."
- Named — Sirion is the Sidonian name for Hermon, a snow-capped peak of over 9,000 feet. The wild ox beside it is famous for a strength no one can tame or harness.
- Shaken — the untameable is made to jump. The trees stand for individual rulers and the mountains for the governments behind them; before God's voice, "all that is most stable quakes."
- Sifted — the storm has a route: from Lebanon and Hermon in the north, down past Judah. It also has a purpose. God uses the enemy as a rod to work repentance in His people.
- Softened — commentators differ on the leaping. One hears an animal bolting in fear. Another hears man's pride giving way to a willing response to God, even beyond Israel's borders.
- Settled — the storm is not the last word. Those who have worshipped in the temple know that the mighty are mighty only for a time: the Lord is King forever.
The voice of Jehovah cleaveth out flames of fire.
Psalm 29 describes a storm. The phrase "the voice of the LORD" runs through it like a refrain, and here that voice is lightning. Translations differ over the verb. The ESV says the voice flashes the flames out. Older versions say it cuts or divides them. Either way, one question stands: what does a lightning bolt tell us about God?
One writer reads the whole psalm as a single advancing storm. The lightning in it is not random destruction. It opens a reign.
This psalm pictures the day of the Lord, when He will show Himself in wrath and in mercy, as a rushing thunderstorm... The fury of the storm breaks the mighty cedars of Lebanon. Those cedars stand for the high and exalted things that will be broken to pieces in that day... He shows Himself with flames of fire, the lightning of His righteousness, which brings in His glorious reign.
Scripture treats thunder as God speaking. One reference work traces the picture through the plagues on Egypt and back to Job.
Thunder is rare in Palestine, and Scripture treats it as the voice of God in power, both in the Old Testament of the past and in the Revelation of the future... In Psalm 78:48, which recounts the plagues of Egypt, hot thunderbolts consume the flocks. The word is resheph, and is also translated 'coals,' 'burning coals,' 'burning heat.' It surely means lightning, as when the 'fire of God' fell from heaven and burned up Job's sheep. Job 1:16.
One writer reads the verb as "divides." The fire is measured out, not simply poured out.
"The voice of the Lord divides the flames of fire" (v. 7). He knows exactly how to bring His fiery judgments on each object of judgment so that they fit its condition. His judgment separates one case from another. He sees clearly what measure of judgment each one calls for.
The repeated phrase means more than thunder. Commentators tie it to the One who rules.
"The voice of Jehovah" is the main theme of this Psalm. In Scripture the phrase often stands for the ruling power of Christ, whose name is the Word of God (Isaiah 30:30-31; Psalm 2:6; compare Revelation 19:13).
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The same voice that divides fire once spoke at ordinary volume — and did greater things.
That voice shakes the wilderness of Kadesh and bows the everlasting hills. It showed even greater force in the days when the despised Messiah waited in patience. The demons cried out in dread and came out against their will at the command of the gracious healer of His people, and He spoke no louder than any other man. The grave of Lazarus gave back its rotting occupant at the voice of Jesus... But mightier far than all these things was the power of that voice to speak into the souls of wretched sinners the divine assurance of forgiveness and of life.
The psalm ends in peace. One writer shows where the faithful are while the storm passes.
This psalm celebrates the power of "the voice of the Lord," who is also "the God of glory." (See v. 3) The last verses let us see the rest of the faithful and hear their joy, while this power passes by to destroy the wicked. Noah was in the ark while the waters rose. Lot was in Zoar while the fire fell on Sodom. Israel stayed behind their doors at Passover while the angel went through Egypt with the sword. In the same way the faithful remnant will one day rest in their rooms (Isaiah 26:20) and sing, while the appointed vengeance runs its course (Isaiah 30:32), and not a hair of theirs will perish.
The point of listing the storm's seven blows is not to frighten the faithful but to steady them.
Psalm 29 calls the mighty to hear the mightier voice of Jehovah, to acknowledge Him and worship before Him according to the holy order of His house... But this Jehovah is above the proud raging waves of created strength. He sits as King for ever, above it all and despite it all. And He, this mighty Jehovah, will give strength to His people and bless them with peace. This is real encouragement for the faithful. It is not their complaint or their appeal. It is a testimony to strengthen their hearts in the presence of the mighty. The One who cares for them is mightier than they are.
- Voice — Scripture treats thunder as God speaking in power. The flames in verse 7 are the lightning inside that speech.
- Measured — the fire is divided, not scattered. Each object of judgment gets what its condition calls for.
- Christ — commentators link "the voice of the LORD" to the ruling power of the One called the Word of God. That same voice once emptied a grave without being raised.
- Sheltered — while the fire falls, the faithful are indoors and singing, like Noah, Lot and Israel on their nights of judgment.
- Peace — the storm ends in blessing. The God who divides fire gives strength to His people and peace.
The voice of Jehovah shaketh the wilderness; Jehovah shaketh the wilderness of Kadesh.
Psalm 29 follows the voice of the Lord as it moves like a storm across the land. In verse 8 that voice reaches the far south, where nothing stands but empty desert. Why is even that bare ground shaken?
The thunder in this psalm is more than weather. One writer traces the storm's path across Israel and names what stands behind it.
The psalm pictures this great and overwhelming judgment of the day of the Lord as a storm sweeping through the land of Israel from north to south. It sets before us the unstoppable power of the Lord in judgment. We hear the voice of the Lord in the roar of the waters and the thunder of the waves. The storm breaks on the shore and hits the mountains of Lebanon and Hermon with full force, smashing the mighty cedars... Behind these destructive forces of nature is the mighty power of God, who will overwhelm the nations in the coming storm of judgment.
The name of the desert carries its own message — one that shuts down any hope of sitting the day out.
The name Kadesh means "apartness." But you may cut yourself off from everyone, even in a lonely, deserted wilderness, and you will still not escape the judgment of God in the coming day. Some may claim to be "neutral," but God will show that no one is neutral. People are either for Him or against Him. The voice of the Lord will shake them in that day.
Kadesh was not simply an empty name to Israel. It was the site of some of their hardest memories.
It was one of the stopping places of the Israelites. They stayed there a long time, and from there the twelve spies were sent into the land. At the end of the thirty-eight years of wandering they came back to Kadesh, and Miriam died and was buried there. It was here also that Moses struck the rock when the people complained for water... We know it lay in the far south of the land.
Behind the thunder is a person. One writer takes the psalm's cedars and waters as more than scenery.
The cedars seem to stand for the princes and the great waters for the peoples. In the day that will burn like an oven, the strength of the princes will be broken and the crowds of the peoples reduced to few. "The voice of Jehovah" is the great theme of the psalm, and in Scripture that phrase often shows the ruling power of Christ, whose name is the Word of God (Isa. 30:30-31; Ps. 2:6; Joel 3:16, etc.; cp. Rev. 19:13).
The voice that shakes a desert was heard on earth at ordinary volume, and its greatest work was not destruction.
That voice shakes the wilderness of Kadesh and makes the everlasting hills bow. Yet it showed even greater force in the days when the despised Messiah waited patiently. At the command of the gracious healer of His people, the demons came out against their will, crying out in dread, though He spoke no louder than any other man. At the voice of Jesus, the grave of Lazarus gave back its decaying occupant... But far mightier than all of this was the power of that voice to speak into the souls of wretched sinners God's own assurance of forgiveness and life.
The psalm's closing verses turn from the storm to the people who rest through it.
This psalm celebrates the power of "the voice of the Lord," who is also "the God of glory." The last verses let us see the rest and hear the joy of the faithful, while that power passes by to destroy the wicked. Noah sat in the ark while the waters rose. Lot sat in Zoar while fire fell on Sodom. Israel sat behind their Passover doors while the angel went through Egypt with the sword. In the same way the remnant will one day rest in their own rooms (Isa. 26:20), and have a song as well, while the sentence of vengeance runs its course.
- The voice — the thunder running through this psalm is God's voice in judgment. Scripture links that voice to the ruling power of Christ, whose name is the Word of God.
- The reach — the storm sweeps the land from north to south. Kadesh lies in the far south, so nothing is left outside its path.
- The name — Kadesh means "apartness." The shaking of that lonely desert says no one escapes by keeping to himself. No one is neutral.
- The mercy — the same voice drove out demons and called Lazarus from the grave. Its greatest work was to speak forgiveness and life into sinners, and it was no louder than any other man's.
- The rest — while that power passes by to destroy the wicked, the faithful are safe, like Noah in the ark and Israel behind the Passover doors. They even have a song while judgment runs its course.
The voice of Jehovah maketh the hinds to calve, and layeth bare the forests; and in his temple doth every one say, Glory!
The psalm has been tracking a storm: seven times the voice of the LORD breaks cedars and shakes the wilderness. Here that voice both gives life and lays waste, and then the scene moves indoors — which raises the question why terror outside and worship inside share one verse.
The same power that shatters the cedars also opens the womb. Both belong to the one voice. One writer holds the two together: life given, and everything laid open.
But then comes a beautiful addition: "The voice of the LORD makes the deer give birth" (v. 9). The same voice that judges the wicked has power to give life to the deer. By implication it gives life to every soul who submits to His sovereign government. Besides this His voice "strips the forests bare." Does this not remind us that "all are naked and exposed to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account" (Heb. 4:13)? When someone is born again, he welcomes this exposure to the eyes of God. Such stripping is not so welcome to the unbeliever. It may seem strange that this is added: "in His temple all cry, 'Glory!'" But when our hearts are truly laid open before God, we will so value the holiness of His presence — His sanctuary — that we will respond with glad rejoicing, glorifying the One whose voice does such great things.
Read prophetically, the two halves of the line are two halves of one work — and the verse marks the end of the whole psalm's story.
The final verse gives us the end in two ways. First, the deer is made to give birth: the new birth comes for the nation, hastened by that terrible visitation which God uses to bring blessing. On the other hand, the forests are stripped, and that is the work of judgment itself. So the work of Him who is perfect in it all has two sides. And in His temple — the place where He is seen and known — "all of it" proclaims His "glory." I do not think that means the temple itself or the people in it, which would not fit the line of truth here; it is all His work itself that proclaims His glory. This is the perfect end of all.
The same writer links this birth to a promise of a nation born at once. The shocks that frighten the deer are the means.
The earth will still be shaking with shocks of upheaval, which both the Old and New Testaments assure us will come. God will use these shocks to make the frightened deer give birth (Ps. 29:9) — the nation of Israel born spiritually in this way, as in one day (Isa. 66:8).
Everyone hears the storm, but the cry "Glory!" rises in one place. That is the point of the shift to the temple: the voice shows its power outside, and inside people understand it.
Psalm 29 calls the mighty to hear the mightier voice of Jehovah, to own Him and to worship before Him according to the holy order of His house. It celebrates the power of His voice in all creation. But there is a place of intelligent worship where His glory is understood — His temple, where men are to come.
The word said there is one word, and everyone says it. That makes the temple unlike every other gathering place.
The centre is His temple, for there "doth everyone speak of His glory" — "in His temple doth everyone say Glory!" (N. Tr.). In His temple there is no discordant note; the praise is universal and forever.
Commentators differ over the Hebrew here. Some translate it "everyone says, Glory"; older margins read "every whit of it utters glory," making the speaker the temple and its contents rather than the worshippers. The Numerical Bible takes the second line further, applying it not to the building but to God's work itself, which "all of it" proclaims His glory. Read of the sanctuary, the phrase covers even its furniture — every object made to say something about God.
he ministered unto the Lord in the presence of Eli. Though himself but a child, he ministered to the Lord — a little Levite indeed, serving Jehovah as best his infant years permitted, caring for the things about "the tent of testimony," the holy vessels and utensils, all of which were intended to express God's glory under various figures. (See Ps. 29:9, marg.)
Thunder reaches every ear, yet its meaning is not obvious to every ear. The verse implies where the meaning is learned.
Only those who know the presence of the Lord can understand how His glory shows in all His works. The awesome thunder really is God's voice to people, calling them to listen to Him. But if we are to understand God's will and to discern His glory, we must know what it means to be found in the secret of His presence.
- One voice. The voice that strips the forest also brings the deer to birth — judgment and life come from the same speaker.
- One work. In the future, the birth is a nation born spiritually; the stripping is the judgment that hastens it.
- One place. Everyone hears the storm; only in the temple, the place of intelligent worship, do people understand the glory.
- One word. Inside, nothing clashes: every voice says "Glory," and one writer hears all God's work saying it too.
- One condition. God's works only preach His glory to those who know His presence; away from the sanctuary, thunder stays mere thunder.
Jehovah sitteth upon the flood; yea, Jehovah sitteth as king for ever.
Psalm 29 has been one long storm. This verse comes when the noise stops, and it names the One who sat above the storm the whole time.
The word behind "flood" here is not the ordinary word for rising water. It is tied to one event, and commentators ask how far that tie reaches.
The "flood" (mabbul) is a word used in Scripture only for what destroyed the world in Noah's day. It does not follow that the direct application is to that, and yet the reference must not be brushed aside. Here is now a second Flood, of which that old flood was in fact a type. Another world has now come to an end, and a wholly new state of things follows. At this flood too Jehovah has sat enthroned; and Jehovah now sits (openly) as King forever.
A flood can also mean a crowd of people in uproar. Read that way, the throne above the water says something about how God handles nations.
Jehovah sits on the floods, is above them, and rules to His own purposes all the tumultuous movements of the mass of peoples. He sits too as King forever. As He is above the swellings of men, so He sits in sure, unmoved government forever. But then there is the connection with His people. He gives them strength; He blesses them with peace. Verse 10 is the possession of power over all and in Himself; verse 11 is what He is for the people.
Noah's flood is not the end of the story. Commentators read the verse as a pattern for a judgment still to come.
The majesty and dignity of the Lord is now emphasized, His sitting enthroned at the Flood. He was in perfect control of the flood of Noah's day. In the same way, He will sit enthroned when the awesome flood of God's judgment sweeps over the whole earth at the time of the Great Tribulation (v. 10). He will sit as King forever, subduing everything before His face.
This verse comes after the thunder, not during it. The psalm keeps repeating one name — Jehovah, which most Bibles print as "the LORD" — and one writer says whose name it is.
The storm is past. The Lord has come. The judgment flood is gone. Jehovah has now taken His throne. He is King and blesses His people with peace. The name of Jehovah is found eighteen times in this Psalm, and this Jehovah is our ever-blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
If He sits over the flood, His people are not swept away by it. Three pictures follow, and each has the same shape: the faithful safe inside, judgment at work outside.
The last verses show us the rest of the faithful and let us hear their joys, while this power passes by to destroy the ungodly. Noah was in the ark while the waters were spreading. Lot was in Zoar while fire fell on Sodom. Israel stayed behind their Passover doors while the angel went through Egypt with the sword. In the same way, the faithful remnant will soon rest in their rooms (Isa. 26:20). They will have a song as well, while the appointed vengeance takes its course (Isa. 30:32), and not a hair will perish.
That same throne is where Jesus Himself rested, and the writer offers the reader the same place.
The God whom He served was behind every circumstance. He sat above the water-flood and put a strong bridle on the mouth of the storm. It could not rage beyond His permission. His love would keep His loved One in all His ways, and the ever-blessed and completely dependent Jesus rested there. And, Christian, He gives that pillow to you, so that you may find rest in the middle of trouble.
- Flood. The word here is the word for Noah's deluge, and Scripture uses it almost nowhere else. It sets the Lord above the one judgment everyone remembers.
- Throne. He does not just outlast the flood. He sits over it, above the raging of nations, and rules their uproar toward His own purposes.
- Forever. The seat outlasts the storm. When the judgment water drains away, the King is still there. Commentators name this Jehovah as the Lord Jesus Christ.
- Shelter. He keeps His own while the waters rise — Noah in the ark, Israel behind the Passover door. They are safe enough to sing while judgment runs its course.
- Peace. Verse 10 is His power in Himself. Verse 11 is that power turned toward His people: He gives them strength, and He blesses them with peace.
Jehovah will give strength unto his people; Jehovah will bless his people with peace.
The psalm has been one long storm of thunder, snapping cedars and shaking wilderness. It ends with two quiet gifts for a small people: strength and peace.
Before the psalm gives anything to His people, it seats God above the floods.
Jehovah sits on the floods. He is above all the wild movements of the mass of peoples, and He rules them to His own purposes. He sits too as King for ever. As He is above the swellings of men, so He sits in sure, unmoved government for ever. But then there is the connection with His people. He gives them strength; He blesses them with peace. Verse 10 is the possession of power over all and in Himself; verse 11, what He is for the people. It is a call to the mighty to own Jehovah, and the sure blessing of Israel.
Many psalms ask God for something. Older translations read this closing line as a promise, not a request: "the LORD will give strength to his people."
This mighty Jehovah will give strength to His people and bless them with peace. It is a positive encouragement for the faithful; not their complaint or appeal, but a testimony for them to encourage their hearts in the presence of the mighty. He that cares for them is mightier than they.
God alone wins the victory in this psalm. One writer traces where the good of it goes, and why the world's search for peace keeps failing.
While He alone gains the victory, He will not enjoy it alone. Rather, He "will give strength to His people" (v. 11). They will have found by painful experience that they are pitifully weak. But in depending on the strong One, they will find wonderful strength. He will also "bless his people with peace." What marvellous peace, after centuries of trouble! Today the whole world is crying out for peace. But peace has escaped them, because they have refused the one Prince of Peace, the Lord Jesus.
The order of the two gifts matters. One writer sees it acted out in the Gospels, in a woman who came to Jesus afraid.
Here the woman who came to the Lord in fear and trembling is told to depart in peace. The Prince of peace gave His royal gift to a woman whose sorrow of heart had broken her spirit (Proverbs 15:13). At the same time He proved Himself to be the Jehovah of prophecy, giving first strength and then peace: "May the LORD give strength to his people! May the LORD bless his people with peace!" (Psalm 29:11).
The promise has an address. It lands on people who worship.
The closing verses give the blessed result. It belongs to those who have been into the temple and worshipped the Lord in the beauty of holiness. Such realise that whatever the storms of this world, the Lord is above them. However great the might of the mighty ones, the Lord is mightier. They may be mighty for a time; Jehovah is "King for ever."
What ties these worshippers to God is His revealed name.
His name has been revealed. Glory is due to Him as revealed, to His name. That name reveals Himself, and it is also the name of His relationship with His people. There He has placed His name, to form a centre where they gather and a revealed place of worship.
The peace promised here is not peace because the storm has stopped. It is rest inside the storm, and Scripture keeps picturing it.
The last verses let us see the rest of the faithful and hear their joys. All this time God's power is passing by to destroy the wicked. Think of Noah in the ark while the waters were spreading. Think of Lot in Zoar while fire fell on Sodom. Think of Israel inside their Passover doors while the angel went through Egypt with the sword. In the same way, the remnant will rest in their rooms one day (Isaiah 26:20). They will have a song too, while the appointed vengeance runs its course (Isaiah 30:32), and not a hair will perish.
Commentators differ on timing. Some tie the promise to Israel's blessing still ahead. Others show it already at work in the Gospels.
- Storm — Thunder, broken cedars and a shaking wilderness are the voice of God. He is mightier than the mighty of the earth.
- Throne — Verse 10 shows His own power. He sits as King forever above the floods. Verse 11 turns that power toward His people.
- Strength — He wins alone, but He does not enjoy it alone. People who have learned how weak they are find real strength by depending on the strong One.
- Peace — The gifts come in order: strength first, then peace. The Prince of Peace sent a trembling woman away in peace.
- Glory — Worshippers carry the result away. Whatever the storms of this world, the Lord is above them, and His people rest while judgment passes by.
(A Psalm of David dedication-song of the house.) I will extol thee, Jehovah; for thou hast delivered me, and hast not made mine enemies to rejoice over me.
Psalm 30 opens with a man just back from the brink of death, and his first word is praise. The title ties the song to the dedication of a house, and the psalm asks whose rescue it describes: David's, Israel's, or ours.
The word behind the rescue carries a picture:
Literally, drawn me up (as from a prison).
He was not just low; he was held. Only God could reach a man that far down, and his enemies were already sure of him:
He was already counted among those going down to the pit, and only the God of resurrection could have brought him up. This easily applies to the deliverance of the remnant of the Jews; it describes it exactly. They are saved at the last moment of distress, when their enemies seem to have them in their grasp and hope is gone. The "pit" means death, but death under God's anger. So this deliverance is a true salvation.
The rescue did not simply happen to a passive man.
David had many enemies, but found the Lord perfectly faithful and dependable in lifting him up above every hostile activity, not allowing his foes to rejoice over him (v. 1). Yet the Lord's goodness was not automatic. David enjoyed it because he cried out in prayer (v. 2). Only then does he say, "and you have healed me."
The same writer marks where David's experience and Christ's part company:
He had no doubt felt swallowed up in death, though he did not actually die. God kept him alive instead of letting him go down to Sheol. But the Lord Jesus was not saved from dying, for He had to die for the sake of others. He was saved "out of death" (Heb. 5:7), His body brought up from the grave.
Commentators differ over the occasion named in the title.
The Bible gives us no account of "a song at the dedication of the house of David," so which house does this mean? If it means the house of God, it cannot be the temple, because Solomon built the temple, not David. Still, it is a song of thanksgiving, first of all for God's grace to David, with something of the Lord Jesus in His trial of faith shining through.
Others read the house as God's and the song as reaching far past David:
We must see the Psalm as a prophecy of the nation's praise for its deliverance, in the day when the greater house of the Lord stands on the earth. David's own experience stands in the foreground. Many take it that David was sick to the point of death and that the Lord raised him up. But this foreshadows the experience of the remnant of Israel. They came close to the pit, while their foes were ready to rejoice over them, but the Lord stepped in, and they were saved and healed. Then the singing begins (verse 4). Weeping had lasted for a night, the dark night of tribulation, but joy came with the morning.
The psalm turns on a comparison.
In Psalm 30 we have the contrast between trusting in prosperity — even prosperity God gives — and trusting God Himself. He has come in and lifted up the poor man, and has not left him to his foes… Evil overcome in power is better than good we may lose. It is security, held in the blessing and the arms of Jehovah for us, for He is the deliverer.
Deliverance also reaches the cause of the trouble:
It may be that the deliverance is from sorrow caused by a person's own faults. With the remnant of the Jews it will surely be so; but it is complete and full. When the sin or evil is fully owned, the restoration and blessing is absolute, in communion with God.
The psalmist pleads not to die. One writer sets that beside where a Christian already stands:
The Christian stands on completely different and far higher ground. In the death and resurrection of Christ he reads his justification. He is already dead and risen with Christ, and he waits with joy for His coming… Here in the psalm there is only the plea to be spared death, while the Jew learns that the deliverance Jehovah gives is better than any prosperity He gave, or than the strength He established in His favour for His mountain: a lesson of lasting praise.
- Down — He was already counted among those sinking into the pit. The word for the rescue pictures a man drawn up out of prison.
- Cry — The rescue came through prayer. Only after crying out could he say, "you have healed me."
- Up — Only the God of resurrection could raise him. The rescue lands at the last moment, when the enemies think they have won.
- Better — Deliverance from God outranks any prosperity God once gave. The joy of rescue runs deeper than the joy of comfort.
- Beyond — Commentators differ on which house the title names. Still, the song points forward: to Israel's morning after a night of weeping, and to a Christian already standing on resurrection ground.
Jehovah my God, I cried unto thee, and thou hast healed me.
David's song opens with praise: God lifted him up, and this verse tells how the rescue came. What was the danger, why did it come, and why can the healed man not stop talking about it?
The verse sets two things side by side: David's call and God's healing. One writer points out which came first.
The Lord's goodness was not automatic. David enjoyed it because he cried out in prayer (v. 2). Only then does he say, "you have healed me."
This was no small recovery. The next verse speaks of the grave and the pit. One writer reads the opening as a rescue at the last moment, with the cause of the trouble admitted.
It was the answer of God to his cry of distress when he was struck down, and death was before him; indeed, when all seemed over with him. He was already counted among those going down to the pit, and only the God of resurrection could have brought him up. This exactly describes the deliverance of the remnant of the Jews. They are saved at the last moment of distress, when their enemies seem to have them in their grasp, and hope is gone. The whole language shows, moreover, that they understand and admit that their condition is the effect of sin. The "pit" does refer to death, but it is death under the anger of God, as the fifth verse states. So this deliverance is a true salvation.
Psalm 31 stands right next to this one. One writer shows how the two differ.
Psalm 30 is more God's anger, and so confession; Psalm 31 is the enemies, so insisting on integrity. We constantly find these two things.
Another writer ties the psalm to a moment when success crowded God out of David's thoughts:
Does not Psalm 30 refer to this time when prosperity for a moment hid God from his soul? "As for me, I said in my prosperity, 'I shall never be moved.'" When restored, all breaks into the praise of God.
The psalm's heading calls it a song for the dedication of "the house," and commentators differ on which house is meant. One writer lays out the evidence:
Nothing in the history of David explains this title. So we cannot tell from it whether "the house" is the house of Jehovah or David's own. The Greek Old Testament and many commentators take it as David's own house. But the king himself does not appear in the psalm. The "glory" spoken of in the closing verse, and the general reference to Israel's last deliverance, point strongly to the house of Jehovah.
One writer reads David's experience as a picture of something still to come for his nation.
Most take it that David was sick to the point of death and that the Lord raised him up. But this foreshadows the experience of the remnant of Israel. The Lord intervened, and they were saved and healed. Then the singing begins (verse 4). Weeping had lasted for a night, the dark night of tribulation, but joy came with the morning.
David's rescue and Christ's both followed a cry, but they were not the same. One writer marks the difference, using an older rendering of Hebrews 5:7 — saved "out of death":
David no doubt felt himself swallowed up in death, though he did not actually die. God kept him alive instead of letting him go down to Sheol. But the Lord Jesus was not saved from dying, for He had to die for the sake of others. He was saved "out of death" (Heb. 5:7), His body brought up from the grave. This followed His "prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears," as was true in the garden of Gethsemane.
- Cry. David called for help, and healing followed. God's goodness came through prayer, not apart from it.
- Cause. Writers read the trouble as the effect of sin, and the pit as death under God's anger. This psalm confesses; it does not protest.
- Cure. This was rescue at the last moment, when only the God of resurrection could bring a man up.
- Occasion. The heading dedicates "the house." Writers differ over whether that is David's own house or God's.
- Reach. The same pattern runs forward — to a nation rescued when hope was gone, and to Christ, who had to die, yet whom God brought up out of the grave.
Jehovah, thou hast brought up my soul from Sheol, thou hast quickened me from among those that go down to the pit.
In this song of thanks, the singer names God as the one who drew him back from the edge of death. Two questions follow. How far down did he go, and what is the "pit" he was spared?
Sheol is not just another word for a burial place. One writer answers a teacher who denied that the body enters sheol at all:
He has started with a mistaken idea of what the term sheol covers. It really includes the grave, as well as the region where the unclothed spirits await their resurrection. The congregation of Dathan and Abiram went down alive into the pit (sheol). (Num. 16:30, 33.) Job speaks the same way (Job 24:19), and the psalmist (Ps. 30:3), and Isaiah (Isa. 14:15). For sheol was understood as what we might call the whole underworld. Both body and soul are pictured as entering it.
One writer follows an older translation of the second half — "you have kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit" — and sets this rescue beside a rescue of a very different kind:
He had no doubt felt himself swallowed up in death, though he was not literally dead, but was kept alive rather than being brought down to Sheol. But the Lord Jesus was not saved from dying, for He had to die for the sake of others; He was saved "out of death" (Heb. 5:7), His body brought up from the grave.
The same writer notes that this rescue came through prayer:
It was not as though the Lord's goodness was automatic. David enjoyed it as a result of crying out in prayer (v. 2). Only then does he say, "and you have healed me."
Why was he so near the pit? One writer answers from the psalm itself, and finds a real salvation here:
It was God's answer to his cry of distress when he was struck down and death was before him — indeed, when everything seemed over with him. He was already counted among those going down to the pit. Only the God of resurrection could have brought him up… The "pit" refers to death, but it is death in the anger of God. The fifth verse states this clearly. So this deliverance is a true salvation.
The singer had leaned on the prosperity God gave him. One writer shows what the grave's mouth taught him:
He may let them down as far as the grave's mouth, but only to show His power in a deliverance that cannot fail. He, the godly man, and Israel as a people, had trusted in the prosperity they had been given. Now, in the depth of adversity, he has found Jehovah in deliverance. The power of evil overcome is better than good we may lose… No mountain, even if we admit Jehovah made it strong, is like Jehovah Himself, even if I am at the pit's mouth.
More than one writer reads David's experience as a picture of Israel's future. One follows that line through the whole psalm:
Most people take it that David was sick to the point of death and that the Lord raised him up. But this foreshadows the experience of the remnant of Israel. They came near the pit, while their foes were ready to rejoice over them, but the Lord stepped in, and they were saved and healed. Then the singing begins (verse 4). Weeping had lasted for a night, the dark night of tribulation, but joy came with the morning.
How far can a believer today claim these words? Darby warns that applying this psalm to Christians would be a dangerous mistake. It speaks of deliverance and peace in this life on earth. Another writer marks the difference this way:
The ground of the Christian is completely different and far better. He reads his justification in the death and resurrection of Christ. He is already dead and risen with Christ. He waits with joy for Christ to come and present him with Himself in the Father's house. Here in the psalm there is only a shrinking back from death. The Jew learns that Jehovah's deliverance is better than any prosperity He gave, or than the strength He established in His favour for His mountain. That is a lesson of lasting praise.
- Brought down — the trouble was real. The pit is death under God's anger, and the singer was already counted among those going down into it.
- Brought to cry — the healing was not automatic. It came when a man with nothing left to lean on cried out in prayer.
- Brought up — sheol covers the whole realm of the dead. Only the God of resurrection draws a man up out of its reach.
- Brought further — the same words stretch beyond David to a people saved at the last moment. Their night of weeping ends in a morning of joy.
- Brought to praise — a mountain God makes strong is still not God. Jehovah Himself is better than any prosperity we can lose.
Sing psalms unto Jehovah, ye saints of his, and give thanks in remembrance of his holiness.
The psalm moves from one man's rescue to a call to everyone else who belongs to God. The reason given for the singing is striking — not the deliverance itself, but the holiness of the God who gave it. The commentators quote an older wording: "give thanks at the remembrance of His holiness." The ESV reads, "give thanks to His holy name."
The call grows out of what David had just been through. He turns his own lesson outward.
David was prosperous and sure it would last. Then God hid His face from him, and he learned how dependent he really was. At once he was troubled. Then, crying to God with death in view, he proved the Lord's deliverance. God turned his mourning into dancing. God took off His servant's sackcloth and clothed him with gladness. What David proved then, others may prove too.
The call goes to God's saints, His own people, and not to everyone. Commentators point out that the reason for the song lies beyond the reach of anyone else.
There is a special reason for giving thanks — the remembrance that He is supremely holy, loving what is good and hating evil. The ungodly cannot appreciate this. They "despise those who are good," and they love to do evil. But being born again changes this completely. Holiness then becomes a most precious jewel, one to thank God for sincerely.
Of everything God is, holiness is the trait people are least drawn to. That is what makes this call remarkable.
Holiness has first place in this cluster of glories. We may say it is one of the essential attributes of God. Without it, who could worship Him, or even respect Him? Yet it is the very trait of His nature that people most dislike, and most easily overlook. So He has reminded us over and over in His Word that He is holy… Yes, God's perfect holiness is a very unpopular truth. Yet it is the very thing that the Spirit of Christ in David calls His saints to give thanks for.
Such thanks rests on a cleansed conscience. One writer traces it back to the cross.
The blood of the Lamb cleanses the conscience from every speck and stain of sin. It sets that conscience in perfect freedom before a holiness that cannot tolerate sin. In the cross, all the claims of God's holiness were fully answered… The higher our estimate of holiness, the higher our estimate of the work of the cross… This is a precious fruit of a perfect redemption. Before a sinner can ever give thanks at the remembrance of God's holiness, he must look at it by faith from the resurrection side of the cross.
It is grace that makes such thanks possible.
How wonderful is the grace that enables redeemed sinners to "rejoice in Jehovah, and give thanks" — not merely at the remembrance of His grace, but of His holiness!
Commentators differ on how far the psalm looks ahead. Some read it of Israel's future deliverance. On that reading, the thanks covers the very dealing of God that first brought them low.
They are urged to sing psalms to Jehovah, and give thanks at the remembrance of His holiness. Holiness had to bring them low to raise them up. They can now rejoice, and call others to rejoice, in that very dealing of God with them. It might seem severe, but it worked: it brought them to repentance, and so to God. He had only acted in keeping with Himself; and this is always necessary for anyone to be blessed.
The sense of God's holiness does the opposite of what we might expect.
The soul that has found rest in God's presence is filled with the sense of His absolute holiness. Instead of this being a cause for distance or fear, it is bound up with overflowing joy. This by itself would prove a perfectly clear conscience — one freed from the burden of its sins. God has blotted those sins out wholly and entirely, in a way suited to the nature of a holy and righteous God. God alone could have worked such a deliverance. The delivered soul knows Him as its Saviour and finds in Him the source of all its joy. So it can celebrate His perfect holiness as part of that joy.
- Rescued — the song starts with one man saved from the edge of death. What he proved, others may prove too.
- Called — the song is for God's saints. Only those born again can treasure holiness instead of resenting it.
- Holiness — people dislike and overlook this trait most, yet it stands first among God's glories.
- Cross — such thanks is a fruit of redemption. A sinner must look at God's holiness by faith from the resurrection side of the cross.
- Joy — holiness no longer means distance and fear. It becomes part of the delivered soul's gladness.
For a moment [is passed] in his anger, a life in his favour; at even weeping cometh for the night, and at morn there is rejoicing.
David wrote this psalm after God lifted him out of a deep distress. Verse 5 is the lesson he drew from it: God's anger set against His favour, and one night set against the morning that follows.
The verse does not deny God's anger. It measures it, and sets it against something far larger.
Holiness must have anger against sin. But God's own gracious heart limits that anger. Set side by side, the anger lasts only "for a moment," while His favour (or grace) "is for a lifetime" — with no limit at all. Precious, eternal favour!
One writer answers someone who used this verse to argue about the punishment of the wicked. His reply looks at who the psalm is speaking to.
He also appeals to Psalm 30:5: "His anger is but for a moment, and His favor is for a lifetime." But those words are part of a call to the Lord's saints to sing to Him. The deliverance the psalmist received from his enemies is what illustrates them. They apply to the discipline of the righteous, and not to the punishment of the wicked.
The psalm has a backstory: the singer had been comfortable, and comfort had done him harm.
As a psalm of experience this one is of high value. It is full of sayings a tested believer can put straight to use. It is the speech of a heart that God had taught deeply in the real secret of faith. The psalmist had tasted prosperity, and it had made him confident in himself. When someone takes the Lord's favour and uses it to prop up his own strength, he is sure to misuse it, and he never really understands it. The believer has to learn resurrection as a preparation for the right use even of the present life.
That reframes what the deliverance is worth. It is not simply the return of the good days.
The great truth of Psalm 30 is a very practical one. The joy that flows from the deliverance the Lord gives is greater and deeper than the blessing of prosperity. That holds true even when we admit the prosperity came from God.
The order in the verse is not random. God set evening before morning, and the writer treats that order as a rule rather than a one-off.
Now the cloud had passed and the anger was gone. It really had lasted only a moment. In the favour that followed came "life," in the fullest sense. This holds as a principle for everyone who turns to Him in the same way. Weeping may stay with us at evening, and a night of darkness and distress follows. But God's order is evening first, then the morning. And for the morning He has prepared a song of joy instead of sorrow.
Commentators read the night on more than one scale. One is the believer's experience now. Another is a night still to come for Israel.
Just as God's anger is but for a moment, so "weeping may tarry for the night." The Lord is absent from the earth now, and God's people still have to pass through that night. It tests their faith and may cause weeping. The night of the great tribulation will do far more: it will bring unspeakable sorrow and weeping to the godly in Israel.
Each night has its matching daybreak, and the same writer names both.
"But joy comes with the morning." This will be gloriously true for Israel, when "the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings" (Malachi 4:2). The dark night will give way to the bright coming of Israel's Messiah, who will bless His people with the light of the perfect day. For believers today the night is Christ's absence. His return to take His own to Himself will bring in the joy of a new day.
Christ's own darkest hours — the garden of Gethsemane and then the cross at Calvary — ended the same way.
After sorrow comes rejoicing. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning. The noonday darkness of Calvary went deeper than the midnight darkness of Gethsemane. Still, beyond them both was a morning with no cloud and no pain — the morning of resurrection and heavenly glory. Here darkness and tears; there no night, no tears, no sorrow and no sighing.
- Moment. God's anger against His own is real but measured. Holiness calls for it; grace limits it. The verse speaks of the discipline of the righteous, not the punishment of the wicked.
- Lifetime. Set against that moment is favour with no limit, and in that favour is life itself.
- Night. The dark stretch has a purpose. Good times had bred self-confidence. The believer has to learn resurrection before he can use even this present life well.
- Morning. God's order is evening first, then morning. That holds for everyone who turns to Him, and a song of joy waits on the far side.
- Song. The joy that comes from deliverance runs deeper than the prosperity that was lost. Christ shows the same pattern: His darkness at Calvary gave way to the morning of resurrection.
As for me, I said in my prosperity, I shall never be moved.
David is remembering here, not boasting: he quotes the confident man he used to be, before God hid His face. The psalm asks what an easy life does to the heart, and where a person should rest when everything looks firm.
His confidence was real, but it rested on his circumstances instead of on God.
(vv. 6-10) The verses that follow give the psalmist's experiences. In the day of his prosperity he trusted his circumstances and forgot God. So he had said, "I shall never be moved." He learned, however, that even though his circumstances were as firm as a mountain, this was entirely owing to the favour of the Lord. The Lord had only to hide His face. In a moment he found himself in trouble, despite the apparent security of his circumstances.
The next verse traces that strong mountain back to God's favour. But which mountain does David mean?
David was a man of faith who had learned many things through the trials of the First Book of Samuel. But when he wrote the thirtieth Psalm as the "dedication-song of the house," all those experiences were already behind him. "Jehovah, by Your favour You had made my mountain to stand strong" (v. 7). This is not Mount Zion, the mountain of God, which cannot be shaken; here he is speaking of himself and the human resources that are his from God. If these resources fail us, what will the state of our souls be?
Crediting God for the mountain does not cure the danger. One writer says the credit can even deepen it.
How hard it is to have a mountain standing strong and not put our confidence in it! And if the heart traces this to the favour of God, all the more may it become a snare. It becomes a false confidence that comes in between the heart and direct confidence in the Lord. And how hard it is to give up this (real or supposed) "favour," attached as it is to what makes something of us! Privileges, circumstances, experiences — we cling to them, only to find they fail us in the day of trial. Everything is allowed to be shaken, so that what cannot be shaken may remain.
Hard times are not the only school. One writer sets David beside Job.
On our path through this world we may face seasons of adversity or times of prosperity, and each one tests us. In adversity we may be tempted by the devil to lose confidence in God and question His ways of love. In prosperity we may grow self-confident and forget God. So Job was tested by adversity, and David by prosperity.
If the mountain has quietly taken God's place, something has to move it. One writer traces the trial that follows to a Father's hand.
We are apt to rest in these things and say with the psalmist, "In my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved. Lord, by Your favour You have made my mountain to stand strong." We let these things come in between our hearts and the Lord, and so they become a snare to us. This is why chastening is needed. Our Father, in His faithful love and care, is watching over us; He sees the danger and He sends trial in one form or another.
David's words are not only a believer's slip. Jesus told a story about a rich man who reasoned the same way.
How common it is that prosperity seems to encourage us to make our prosperity our confidence! We grow so sure that we "shall never be moved." The same principle drove the rich man of Luke 12:16-21, who said, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry." Yet the very day he said it, the Lord told him, "Fool! This night your soul is required of you."
There is a place where "I shall never be moved" is true. What changes is not the blessing but what the heart rests on.
David said, "I shall never be moved. Lord, by Your favour You have made my mountain to stand strong. You hid Your face, and I was troubled." When his mountain was gone, he found that he had been trusting in his mountain and not in the Lord. When he says, "The Lord is my shepherd," there was no being moved, for he was resting in the Lord Himself.
- Gift. The mountain stood strong by God's favour — David did not build that security, and he learned it only afterwards.
- Drift. The gift slid into God's place; commentators note this can happen even while the heart is crediting the favour to Him.
- Test. Prosperity tests a person as much as loss does: adversity tested Job, prosperity tested David.
- Shaking. In faithful care the Father sends trial — He lets everything shakeable be shaken, so that what cannot be shaken remains.
- Rest. Rest on the blessing and it will fail you in the day of trial; rest in the Shepherd Himself, and "I shall never be moved" becomes true.
Jehovah, by thy favour thou hadst made my mountain to stand strong thou didst hide thy face; I was troubled.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
I called to thee, Jehovah, and unto the Lord did I make supplication
The writer had just said that he would never be moved. Then God hid His face, and his confident voice turned into a cry for mercy.
God gave the prosperity. But the gift was never meant to replace daily dependence on the Giver.
God had made his mountain stand strong. But that did not mean he no longer needed constant prayer and dependence on the Lord Himself. So we may too easily deceive ourselves! Because of this lack of dependence, we are told, "You hid Your face, and I was troubled." The Lord is always jealous of our affectionate communion. If we neglect this genuine communion, He will trouble us by hiding His face. So we are troubled enough to "cry out to the Lord" (v. 8).
The cry became necessary because confidence had shifted from God to what God had given. One writer warns that tracing the blessing back to God's favour can make the danger worse, not better.
How hard it is to have a mountain standing strong, and not put our confidence in it! And if the heart traces this back to God's favour, it may be even more of a snare. It becomes a false confidence that stands between the heart and direct confidence in the Lord. We cling to privileges, circumstances and experiences, only to find they fail us in the day of trial. Everything is allowed to be shaken, so that what cannot be shaken may remain.
The verse has two verbs: he cries, and he pleads. Other translations put the second as "I make supplication." Distress on its own is not prayer.
There is an actual carrying a known want or trouble to God, the expression of the need we are in. The heart expresses itself in a distinct application. So it brings itself before God, and this is very important in our relationship with God. There is truth in the inward parts, and true confiding dependence. Up to this there was gnawing trouble, the working of the heart on the trouble, the soul refusing to be comforted. The will was at work, and could not get what it wanted. The soul thinks of God, but no comfort was there. There was only its own thoughts of Him; there was complaint, not prayer.
One writer ties this psalm to Hezekiah, a king of Judah. His prayer in Isaiah 38 runs along the same lines, verse by verse.
Psalm 30 shows the principle of establishment, and even joy after sorrow. It shows the deliverance of Jehovah after prosperity in human power has failed… Psalm 30 is marked by the faith of Hezekiah. (Compare v. 3 with Isaiah 38:17; vv. 4, 5 with Isaiah 38:14-16; vv. 8, 9 with Isaiah 38:18-19; vv. 10-12 with Isaiah 38:10-15, 20.)
The one praying here dreads death and shrinks from it. Writers point out that the ground a Christian stands on is different.
The Christian stands on completely different and far better ground. He reads his justification in the death and resurrection of Christ. He is already dead and risen with Christ, and he waits with joy for Christ to come and present him with Himself in the Father's house. Here there is only the pleading against death. The Jew learns that Jehovah's deliverance is better than any prosperity He gave, and better than the strength His favour gave to His mountain. That is a lesson of enduring praise.
What he found when the mountain fell was better than the mountain.
The great truth of Psalm 30 is deeply interesting and practical. The joy that flows from the deliverance the Lord gives is greater and deeper than the blessing of prosperity — even when we own that the prosperity came from God.
- Cause. Prosperity bred quiet independence. God answered by hiding His face, and that drove the psalmist back to prayer.
- Snare. A mountain made strong by God can still stand between the heart and God. So God shakes everything that can be shaken.
- Cry. Real prayer is bringing the actual trouble to God in words; brooding over it is complaint, not prayer.
- Reach. The same faith marks Hezekiah, whose prayer in Isaiah 38 matches this psalm line by line.
- Result. What he gains is greater than what he lost: deliverance by God is a deeper joy than any prosperity from God.
What profit is there in my blood, in my going down to the pit? shall the dust praise thee? shall it declare thy truth?
A man who had come to the edge of the grave wrote Psalm 30. Here he tells God the argument he used while he was still sinking: what would God gain by his death?
The question is not despair but prayer. The psalmist gives God a reason to spare him from the pit, the grave. One commentator hears Christ making the same plea, and links it with Psalm 6 and Psalm 115.
Jesus here pleads (see also Ps. 6:5, Ps. 30:9, Ps. 115:17) to be delivered from death, because the dead could not praise God, and the grave could not declare Him. For God is not the God of the dead but of the living. "The living, the living, he shall praise You," says Hezekiah. The Spirit taught him to speak as a man who knew himself to be in resurrection. And so Jesus cries for deliverance on this most blessed plea, that God is known not in death but in life.
A believer in Israel looked to praise God on earth — in the temple, among the living, and through children taught to know Him.
A godly Israelite's ambition was to join that great hallelujah chorus, the one the last five psalms give us, in the scene those psalms foretell. Three things ran through his every thought of Jehovah's praise: to celebrate His praises on earth, to train up children for the service of His sanctuary, and to go up to that temple where the glory of Jehovah could be seen. You see it in the words of Isaiah: "the father to the children shall make known Your truth." Death would cut short that declaration, and make those praises cease.
The word "profit" points the appeal at God's own interest. One writer turns each line of the verse into a question: what would God gain from the ruin of a frail creature?
Can it be pleasure to Him, or profit, or glory, to exact the just sentence of death from so frail a being? Will the dust — even though He has said, "to dust you shall return" — really declare His truth? Will He be satisfied with the curse upon one who, whatever he may be, clings to Him for blessing?
The psalmist did not yet know how safe his argument was. The same writer points out that the psalm does not plead the death of Christ — yet the death of Christ is what justifies the plea.
The plea here is not the death of Christ, as we see. Yet it is the death of Christ which justifies — and far more than justifies — the plea that the Spirit of God puts into the heart of the one who prays. Can He desire man's death, who has given up His Son to death to redeem him? Yet in this God has found a way of making death itself a wonderful display — not simply of His truth, but of the love which is His nature.
Commentators differ on how directly a Christian may take this cry as his own. One warns that the psalm has a living people on earth in view. It promises rescue from dying, not the Christian's hope beyond death.
We see clearly here that God will bless a living people on earth (v. 3, 9). There may be similar mercies in every age, for God governs Christians too. Even so, to apply this psalm to the saints now would be a dangerous mistake. It speaks of temporal deliverance for peace in this world.
Another writer keeps the verse for present use. Older translations read "my blood" where the featured verse reads "my death," and he follows that older wording. Christ raised from the dead, he says, changes how a believer meets the question.
It is natural to think this way. But knowing Christ raised from the dead changes our whole viewpoint, so that the fear of death is gone. And if we read this verse with Christ as its Object, the profit in His blood is infinitely beyond our understanding. Though brought down to the "dust of death," He is now exalted above all heavens.
One writer explains why the lesson had to come at the edge of the grave.
A taste of prosperity had bred confidence in the flesh. When Jehovah's favour only makes the creature strong on its own footing, people always misuse it and never understand it. The believer has to learn resurrection as a preparation for his right use even of the present life.
- Profit — the plea asks what God Himself would gain by a death. Dust cannot declare His truth, so He gains nothing.
- Praise — an Israelite looked to praise God on earth and to pass His truth to his children. Death cut that song short.
- Prayer — the psalmist offers this argument to God, not against Him. God is known in life, not in death.
- Proof — God gave up His Son to death, so He cannot desire man's death. The cross settles what the psalmist could only hope.
- Preparation — a believer must lose his confidence in prosperity and learn resurrection. Only then does he make right use of this life.
Hear, O Jehovah, and be gracious unto me; Jehovah, be my helper.
The psalmist had leaned on prosperity that God Himself gave him, and then it was gone. What is left is this bare cry for mercy and help — the one thing a person can still say when everything he trusted has failed.
One writer sets two kinds of confidence side by side. The safety had been real, and God gave it. Yet a strong mountain is not the One who made it strong.
Psalm 30 sets two things against each other: trust in prosperity — even prosperity God gives — and trust in God Himself. He has come in and lifted up the poor man, and has not left him to his foes. His favour is life. If He is angry, it is only for a little moment, and for the good of His saints: the favour is for ever. No mountain is like Jehovah Himself — not even a mountain we admit Jehovah made strong, and not even when I stand at the mouth of the pit. It is my mountain — for my heart, when I think about it.
He asks for mercy and offers nothing else. The plea rests on nothing in the man himself — and that is why it holds.
Here the one praying does not plead the death of Christ, as we see. Yet it is the death of Christ that justifies — and far more than justifies — the plea that the Spirit of God puts into his heart. Can He desire man's death, when He has given up His Son to death to redeem him? Yet in this way God has made death itself a wonderful display — not simply of His truth, but of the love that is His nature. So He has ground on which He can show and justify unchanging grace to one who finds in his very sins his claim on the Saviour of sinners. That is how God shows how safe the plea is — a plea that rests on what is in Himself.
The trouble here was not only pressure from outside. One writer says this rescue can reach sorrow a person brought on himself.
The great truth of Psalm 30 is deeply interesting and practical. The joy that flows from the deliverance the Lord gives is greater and deeper than the blessing of prosperity — even when we admit the prosperity came from God. It may be that the deliverance is from sorrow caused by our own faults. … But it is complete and full. When we fully admit the sin or evil, the restoration and blessing is absolute, in communion with God.
Everything bright in the last verses hangs on this cry. One writer treats it as the hinge of the psalm.
This experience is triumphant because it begins with an earnest prayer: "Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me! O LORD, be my helper!" (v. 10). There is no question about God's answer. So David speaks with confidence: "You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness" (v. 11). David mourned not only because enemies oppressed him, but because of his own failure. Yet the grace of God rose above this. It did not only bring relief; it filled him with joy and gladness.
Notice the order. He prays before anything proves the prayer right. The proof comes later.
Now comes at last the experience that shows the plea was a good one. Faith is not to be shaped to fit experience. We cannot be trusted to read experience right, and God in Christ goes beyond anything experience can hold. But in the end experience will surely prove faith right, and so it does here. At last God answers the cry to Jehovah for grace and help. His answer turns mourning into dancing, takes off the sackcloth, and makes the man ready for glad activity in praise.
One writer also reads the psalm forward, to a rescue that comes when no rescue seems possible.
He was already counted among those going down to the pit. Only the God of resurrection could have brought him up. We can easily see this applying to the deliverance of the remnant of the Jews: it describes it exactly. They are saved at the very last moment of distress, when their enemies seem to have them in their grasp and hope is gone.
- Mountain — the trouble began with trust in prosperity that God gave. No mountain, however strong, is Jehovah Himself.
- Mercy — with the mountain gone, the only plea left is mercy, and it is safe because it rests on what is in God, not in us.
- Helper — asking God for help admits there is no other help. This cry is where the psalm turns.
- Restoration — the rescue reaches even sorrow we brought on ourselves. The joy it gives runs deeper than the prosperity that was lost.
- Praise — in the end the plea proves good: sackcloth off, mourning turned to dancing, and a man made ready for glad praise.
Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing; thou hast loosed my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness;
David sang this psalm looking back on God's dealings with him, on tears that had already turned to celebration. The verse answers three questions every sufferer asks. Who makes such a change? What has to happen first? And what is the new clothing for?
One writer dates the psalm to the day David came home to bless his household, at the peak of his prosperity.
It seems likely that it was when David returned to bless his house (1 Chronicles 16:43) that he spoke Psalm 30. He had now risen to the height of prosperity and could say, "I shall never be moved." His soul was simply enjoying everything at the hands of the Lord.
Sackcloth was the clothing of sorrow. The grief behind it had two roots, and neither one blocked God's kindness.
David mourned not only because enemies oppressed him, but because of his own failure. Yet the grace of God rose above this. It did not only give relief; it filled him with joy and gladness. The sackcloth of sorrow and humiliation gave way to the beautiful clothing of gladness.
The dancing came only after a lesson, and the lesson began in good times.
He was prosperous and sure it would last. Then God hid His face, and he learned how dependent he really was. With God's face hidden, he was troubled at once. Then, crying to God with death in prospect, he proved Jehovah's deliverance. His mourning was turned into dancing. God took off His servant's sackcloth and clothed him with gladness. What David then proved, others may prove likewise.
The verse says God did the unclothing and the clothing. So mourners have only one place to go for relief.
No! God is "the God of all comfort," and His mourners have nowhere else to turn. He alone can take off their sackcloth and clothe them with gladness. He alone can make them sing praise to Him instead of staying silent. If they wait on Him alone, they will soon learn that weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
One writer reads the whole psalm as faith's plea, answered at last. Older translations say the gladness is girded on, like a belt tied for work.
Faith must not be shaped to fit experience. We cannot be trusted to read experience rightly, and God in Christ goes beyond anything we can experience. But in the end experience will confirm faith, and so it is here. At last the cry to Jehovah for grace and help gets its answer. That answer turns mourning into dancing, takes off the sackcloth garment, and girds the loins for glad activity in praise.
One writer reads the psalm as more than one man's story. It sketches what Israel will say after long sorrow.
This is a review of the experiences they passed through. Their mourning turns into dancing. The sackcloth comes off, and they put on the garments of joy and gladness. Then He will show His glory. They will sing His praise throughout Israel's land, and His glory will fill the whole earth.
Another writer hears in the psalm the voice of the risen Christ.
This may be read as the praise of the risen Jesus celebrating the One who has now redeemed Him from death. He calls on the saints, as it were, to help Him in this praise. His praise shows that the resurrection had unsealed His lips or awakened His glory.
- Night. The mourning was real — enemies outside, personal failure inside. Then God hid His face, and David learned that his prosperity had never been his own security.
- Cry. The turning point is prayer. God answers the plea for mercy and help, and no other comfort will do.
- Gift. Every verb belongs to God — He turns, He unties, He clothes. His grace rose above the failure behind the grief; it did more than ease the pain.
- Garment. Sackcloth comes off and gladness goes on like a belt — not a cushion, but clothing for glad activity in praise.
- Song. The change ends in an unsealed mouth — David's, the risen Christ's, and one day a mourning nation's — singing instead of staying silent.
That [my] glory may sing psalms of thee, and not be silent. Jehovah my God, I will praise thee for ever.
Psalm 30 is the song of a rescued man, and its last line tells why the rescue happened at all. God did not act only to end the trouble; He acted so that praise would rise and never stop.
One outline of the psalm makes verse 12 the goal of everything before it:
Psalm 30:1-3, I praise Jehovah for deliverance; 4, 5, the saints are to praise; 6-11, a deliverance, so that in verse 12 I might praise Him.
The song follows a season when success had crowded God out of view. One writer connects the psalm to David's numbering of the people, where God read the motive behind the act:
His heart swelled with his own greatness, as if he had gained it by his own power. He wanted to know how far his rule reached, from Beersheba to Dan. God judged the secret motive, and later on David judges himself. "I have sinned greatly in that I have done this thing. But now, please take away the iniquity of Your servant, for I have acted very foolishly" (1 Chron. 21:8). Does not Psalm 30 refer to this time, when prosperity for a moment hid God from his soul? "As for me, I said in my prosperity, 'I shall never be moved.'" When restored, everything breaks out into the praise of God.
One writer takes "glory" to mean the tongue — the part of a person that speaks. Praise answers a God who has not stayed silent Himself:
"Sing to the LORD," He says — and He may well say it, knowing God like this. "Sing praises to the LORD, O you His saints" — His glory shall sing, and not be silent, for Jehovah has not been silent. His glory is the tongue of redeeming praise, and how loudly it speaks! Glory now is redemption witnessed. His word is "Oh, magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together!" Always together!
Another writer places the psalm in a sequence of three: a cry, an answer, and a song:
Psalm 28 — the godly cry to be delivered from death, or the power of the pit. Psalm 29 — the Lord answers, as with an earthquake, delivering the prisoner. Psalm 30 — the delivered one acknowledges this with praise. God had now broken His silence with such a voice of power; so His ransomed ones would break their silence with a voice of praise. (Compare Ps. 28:1 with Ps. 30:12.)
Commentators differ on whose glory is meant. One writer reads it as the display of God Himself, which wakes the whole land into praise:
The expression "that glory may sing praise to You" should not be reduced to the ordinary meaning most expositors give it. Another psalmist has declared that "Surely His salvation is near to those who fear Him, that glory may dwell in our land" (Psalm 85:9). This is the display of God Himself among Israel. It will bear blessed witness to what He is, waking up all nature to join in the praise. The whole land — the whole earth in measure — responds in harmony, like an instrument under the skilled fingers of the player. Sadly, it has so far found no one to bring out its sleeping capacities. Now it wakes, to be silent no more.
The line before speaks of sackcloth taken off and gladness put on. A mourner can do neither for himself:
God is "the God of all comfort," and His mourners have only Him to turn to. He alone can take off their sackcloth and clothe them with gladness, and cause them to sing praise to Him and not be silent. If they wait on Him alone, they will soon learn that though weeping lasts for a night, joy comes in the morning.
The closing promise sets no end date, and that separates real praise from a brief mood:
The lips of the psalmist are opened to sing praise to the Lord his God (v. 12). Is this not always the proper result of all true experience? — a wonderful contrast to being silent in mere self-pity. "O LORD my God, I will give thanks to You forever." This is no mere temporary, passing experience, but eternal.
- Rescued for a reason. Verses 1-11 exist for verse 12. God did not lift him out only to relieve him, but so that he would praise.
- Silence broken. God broke His silence with a voice of power. The rescued one answers by breaking his own. Praise is the echo, not the first move.
- Glory speaks. Some read "glory" as the tongue of redeeming praise. Others read it as the display of God Himself, waking the whole land "to be silent no more."
- Clothing changed. Only God takes off the sackcloth and clothes with gladness, so the mourner has only Him to turn to.
- Never silent again. The promise sets no end date. Praise is the proper result of all true experience, and it outlasts the trouble that produced it.
(To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David.) In thee, Jehovah, do I trust; let me never be ashamed deliver me in thy righteousness.
Psalm 31 opens with a man under heavy pressure who asks God to rescue him — not out of pity, but out of righteousness. Why should trust make shame impossible, and how can a sufferer claim rescue as his right?
The first words describe a settled trust, not a trust worked up for the crisis. One writer shows how firm that trust is, and why it lets David appeal to God's righteousness:
David puts his trust in the Lord. He does not only trust Him for certain needs. He deposits his trust in Him, as a settled matter. So he has no reason at all to be ashamed (v. 1). In fact, he can appeal to the Lord's righteousness for his rescue, and not only to His grace. It is an unrighteous thing for the enemy to attack someone whose trust is in the Lord.
Trust like this comes from knowing God personally, and one writer says the trust itself is a righteous thing:
This is a deep principle of true piety — such a knowledge of the Lord, such faith in what He is, that the soul can trust Him and cast everything on Him when distress and hostility reach their worst. And it is a principle of utter righteousness, because the soul can only look to God in this way in righteousness.
David does not always pray this way. An earlier psalm shows him pleading something different:
Open persecution, God's governing hand on His servant, secret plots, slanderous accusations — as we have already pointed out, these are the great causes of trial for the believer. The Psalmist speaks again of this third source of trouble in Psalm 31. He cries to God to rescue him in His righteousness. In Psalm 26 he pleads his own integrity. Here he pleads Jehovah's righteousness as a ground for deliverance, and that speedily.
That righteousness is not only why God acts. It is also the ground faith stands on:
The godly man looks to the Lord for deliverance from all his enemies, trusting in the righteousness of God. God, being absolutely righteous, becomes the rock on which faith can build, the defence against the enemy on which faith can depend.
Claiming God's righteousness could sound like a man announcing his own merit. It is the opposite. This confidence rests on God's revealed name, and the man who prays admits the trouble is his own doing:
Psalm 31 expresses complete confidence in Jehovah — God known in our relationship with Him. It speaks out of the most terrible trial and distress, and that where sin has brought the trouble on. Yet where faith is at work, the known name of God is counted on, and therefore His righteousness in making it good. It is not reckoning upon God with pride. It is Jehovah trusted for what He is — His name. But it comes with the fullest confession of failure, and with the admission that sin has brought this trouble on the one who cries to Him.
The promise reaches further than David. One writer says no one who trusts God ends up ashamed:
The soul looks for His face to shine on it. And because God appears for it, it will not be finally ashamed — and neither will anyone who trusts in Him. He has laid up goodness for those who fear Him and trust in Him, openly before all people. His presence is a sure, unfailing sanctuary, which makes human malice useless.
For the reader today, one writer points out, God has already answered this prayer:
"Let me never be put to shame" need never be the prayer of the New Testament believer. We are assured that "whoever believes in him will not be put to shame" (Rom. 9:33).
The psalm is David's, but writers see a wider reach. It looks on to a suffering people, and to Christ Himself:
The psalm voices the confidence of the godly remnant in Jehovah while they are in distress in the last days. For a time God is silent to their cry, and it looks as if their enemies have them in their hands. Christ entered fully into these sorrows. So the psalm holds words the Lord Himself used, though it does not apply to Him word for word.
- Trusted — David deposits his trust with God as a settled matter. It was lodged there before the trouble came.
- Righteous — since his trust is lodged there, he can ask for rescue as a matter of right. It is wrong for the enemy to attack a man who shelters in God.
- Rock — God's righteousness is not just the argument; it is the ground faith stands on and the defence it depends on.
- Humble — the plea carries no pride. It counts on God's name and confesses that sin brought the trouble on.
- Unashamed — shame is impossible for such a person. For the believer today the prayer is already answered: whoever believes in Him will not be put to shame.
Incline thine ear to me, deliver me speedily; be a strong rock to me, a house of defence to save me.
Psalm 31 opens with David under pressure from enemies and slander, and verse 2 is his urgent plea: listen, act fast, be my shelter. Behind the pictures of rock and fortress lies one question — on what ground can anyone ask God for that? (Some older translations say "a strong rock" and "a house of defence"; the writers quoted below use that wording.)
David asks God to bend His ear down to him. One writer reads that as David admitting how far below God he stands.
He takes the lowly place, asking the Lord to "bow down" His ear to him (v. 2), realising that it is a great stooping down on God's part even to listen to David. He wants quick deliverance from God, his Rock of refuge. We know God will not delay it longer than necessary, but will act in His own time and way.
The verse names two pictures, not one. One commentator gives each of them its own job.
Here he pleads Jehovah's righteousness as a ground for deliverance, and that speedily. "Be my strong rock, a house of defence to save me" — a rock to stand on, a house to take shelter in. Urgent indeed was his need. "Pull me out of the net that they have laid secretly for me; for You are my strength" (4). He was, as it were, in the net before he saw it, and he could not get himself out. God alone could rescue him.
Notice the logic. David asks God to be his rock, and then in verse 3 he says, "for you are my rock." He asks God for what God already is. One writer calls that the strongest argument prayer can use.
That Jehovah — God in His unchangeable self-consistency — is the rock of faith needs no proof, of course, and none is given. It is used with God Himself as a winning argument, to get Him to show Himself in that character. Must He not be to the soul that trusts Him everything it counts on Him for? The one who prays can plead His righteousness even on his own behalf; for does He not encourage faith to take hold of Him? "Be to me," therefore, he cries, "a rock of strength, a house of defence, to save me: for You are my rock and my fortress."
David asks for rescue "speedily." Later in the same psalm he says his times are in God's hand, and one writer builds an answer out of that for everyone who has to wait.
David says, "My times are in Your hand" (Ps. 31:15). If our times were in our own hand, we would have deliverance too soon. If they were in our enemy's hand, we would have deliverance too late. But my times are in Your hand, and God's time is always best. Everything is beautiful in its season: when the mercy is ripe, we will have it… Deliverance may be later than our time, but it will not be later than God's time.
One writer reads the rock and the fortress as Christ Himself, with the peace of God on guard inside.
And let us not forget that all is "in Christ Jesus". Christ Jesus is my Rock and my Fortress (Ps. 31:2-3) within which the Peace of God keeps guard over hearts and thoughts. So the picture is complete: we have the Fortress and we have the Garrison that guards it. Both are Divine. What perfect safety, and what perfect peace, is there for every believer!
One writer names the thread that runs through the whole psalm.
The special character of the psalm is trust. It is handing your case over to Jehovah, out of personal knowledge of Him. This is a deep principle of true godliness: knowing the Lord so well, and trusting what He is so fully, that the soul can cast everything on Him when distress and hostility reach their worst.
- Bow — asking God to bend His ear down is taking the lowly place; it is a great stooping on His part to listen at all.
- Be — "be to me a rock" rests on "you are my rock"; faith asks God to show Himself as what He unchangeably is.
- Stand — the rock is ground under your feet, the house of defence is walls around you, and the peace of God is the guard inside.
- Wait — "speedily" is an honest cry, but our times stay in God's hand. Deliverance may be late by our clock, never by His.
- Trust — the psalm's whole character is handing your case to a God you know, just when hostility is at its worst.
For thou art my rock and my fortress; and, for thy name's sake, thou wilt lead me and guide me.
David is already sure of what God is to him: his rock and his fortress. So he asks God to lead him — and he asks on the ground of God's name, not his own worth.
The two names David uses are not decoration. One is the ground under his feet. The other is the wall around him.
David's confidence is in the Lord as his rock and his fortress. The rock is the solid basis of his very existence, and the fortress is his all-encircling defence. David does not ask for guidance for his own sake, but for the sake of the name of the Lord. Since the Lord alone is his rock and fortress, he is sure that God will go before him as Leader and guide him as he goes on his way.
But why is God a rock at all? The answer here is His righteousness.
The godly man looks to the Lord to save him from all his enemies. He trusts in the righteousness of God. God is perfectly righteous. So He becomes the rock on which faith can build, and the defence against the enemy on which faith can depend. Since God is his rock and defence, he asks God to lead and guide him in keeping with His Name.
Notice the order in the verse: the reason comes before the prayer. David is not telling God something new. He is turning what God is into a reason for God to act.
That Jehovah — God who never changes and is always true to Himself — is the rock of faith needs no proof. Faith takes that truth and uses it with God Himself as a winning argument, to move Him to show Himself in that character. Must He not be to the soul that trusts Him all that it counts on Him for? And would He not be known for what He is? That is, would He not act for His Name's sake, and lead and guide His people in line with this?
This phrase moves the ground of the prayer off the one praying and onto God Himself.
Notice too that He leads us like this "for His name's sake." Again — and it cannot be said too often — the reason is what He is, because of His own name. So His own glory is at stake in guiding us into these paths of righteousness. We can always plead with Him on this ground; and whenever we do so, our plea is irresistible.
This is why such a prayer is safe to pray.
"For Your goodness' sake," "for Your name's sake" — there is ground on which the soul founds its confidence. It is impossible that God should fail His own name (John 17:6). He is "good and upright." What does the goodness of God do for a trembling and miserable sinner? It does not throw his misery back at him, but takes note of it to fill him with full confidence and give him courage. God would deny Himself if He failed in His goodness in this case.
Later in the psalm David asks for God's face to shine on him. The two prayers belong together.
God wants to reveal His will to us about our life. And if we recognise and carry out His will, He will grant us the assurance that the way we are going matches His will. We shall see His face shining over our way. In Psalm 31 we find these two aspects: first David asks for God's guidance and leading … then he expresses the wish: "Make your face shine on your servant."
Commentators note that the psalm reaches beyond David. Jesus used words from it. Yet not every line fits Him, and the psalm also speaks for the remnant — the faithful few in Israel.
Psalm 31 shows how Jesus could use the devout and holy words of a psalm. He could even pass through it all in spirit, though the psalm does not apply to Him literally. Here we find the words He used: "Into your hand I commit my spirit." That was true in the fullest sense. But the psalm continues: "You have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God." Those words cannot apply to Him. So the whole complaint of the psalm is not David's only. It is also the complaint and confidence of the remnant. It joins two principles, trust and righteousness, and looks for guidance for the LORD's name's sake.
- Because — the prayer rests on a fact: God is rock and fortress. It starts from what He is, not from what the one praying deserves.
- Rock — the rock is the ground under you, the fortress the wall around you. God's righteousness makes Him a base faith can build on.
- Argument — faith turns God's character into a plea. Must He not be to the trusting soul all that it counts on Him for?
- Name — leading "for His name's sake" ties God's own glory to the answer. A plea on that ground is irresistible, for He cannot fail His own name.
- Result — David also asks God to make His face shine on him. Guidance comes with the assurance that the road is His.
Draw me out of the net that they have hidden for me; for thou art my strength.
The psalmist is already caught in a trap he never saw. He cannot free himself, so he asks God to pull him out — and the reason he gives is who God is to him.
The net was laid in secret. Stuart draws out what that means for the man praying: he learns about the trap too late to help himself.
He was already in the net, as it were, before he saw it, and he could not free himself. God alone could rescue him.
Stuart places this psalm among the troubles the godly meet: not open attack alone, but secret plotting and slander.
The verses just before ask God to be a rock and a fortress. That request gives this one its ground.
The godly man looks to the Lord for deliverance from all his enemies, trusting in the righteousness of God. Because God is perfectly righteous, He becomes the rock that faith can build on, and the defence against the enemy that faith can depend on. Since God is his rock and defence, he looks to God to lead and guide him in keeping with His Name. He looks to the strength of God to deliver him from every secret snare. And he looks to God to keep his spirit, because he is one of God's redeemed.
So the appeal does not rest on the psalmist's record. In another psalm he points to his own integrity. Here he points to God's righteousness as the ground for rescue — and for quick rescue.
The second half of the verse gives the reason for the first. Darby connects it straight to the next line of the psalm, where the sufferer hands over his spirit.
It is not "What profit is there in my blood?" but "Into your hand" — there was no one else — "I commit my spirit, for..." Here was the Author and Finisher of faith: "You are my strength."
(Older translations read "for you are my strength" where the ESV has "for you are my refuge.")
This is not just an emergency measure. It is what it means to be a creature before God.
A creature's relationship to God must be one of dependence. It is the relation of the weak to the strong, of the foolish and short-sighted to the One who is infinitely wise, of those prone to sin to the One who is always holy. It means that He is to be their resource and help, even against themselves, and against every form of real evil.
One thing marks the whole psalm, and this verse carries it. The cry rests on what the psalmist knows God to be.
Psalm 31 expresses complete confidence in the Lord — God known in our relationship with Him — in the most terrible circumstances of trial and distress... The special character of the psalm is trust. Out of personal knowledge of the Lord, the sufferer hands his case over to Him. This is a deep principle of true godliness: such a knowledge of the Lord, and such faith in what He is, that the soul can trust Him and cast everything on Him when distress and hostility reach their extreme.
This trust holds even when the trouble came through the sufferer's own sin. The same writer notes what the psalm confesses:
It is the Lord trusted for what He is — His name — but with the fullest confession of failure, and with the admission that trouble has come through sin on the man who cries to Him.
The trap is not only David's problem. The secret snare has an obvious counterpart in the life of any believer.
Depending on the Lord as his stronghold, the psalmist pleads to be delivered out of the net secretly laid for him by enemies. We too need to be preserved from the wiles of the devil (Eph. 6:11), with which he seeks to entangle the saints of God, and we shall be preserved if we honestly depend on the Lord.
Stuart asks whether such trials belonged to David alone:
Were such trials confined to David? No. Jeremiah entered into them, and quotes the words of this Psalm, confident of the power and the presence of the Lord with him. Others, then, may experience similar treatment, and deliverance afterwards too at the hands of God.
- Caught. The enemy hides the net, so the psalmist is inside it before he knows it exists. He cannot get himself out. God alone can rescue him.
- Ground. He appeals to God's righteousness and God's name, not to his own record. That righteousness is the rock faith builds on.
- Reason. The "for" carries the whole weight: he asks to be pulled out because God, and no one else, is his refuge.
- Relation. Dependence is not a low moment. It is the permanent place of a creature before God — the weak leaning on the strong, needing His help even against ourselves.
- Reach. The same enemy still sets nets to entangle God's people, and honest dependence on the Lord still keeps them safe.
Into thy hand I commit my spirit thou hast redeemed me, Jehovah, [thou] God of truth.
David wrote this psalm while enemies laid traps for him, and he hands God the one thing a hunted man cannot guard: his own spirit. Jesus made these same words His last words on the cross.
One writer sums up what kind of trust the psalm is built on.
Psalm 31 expresses complete confidence in Jehovah. It is God known in our relationship with Him, in the worst trial and distress — even where sin has brought that trouble on... The special character of the psalm is trust. Knowing Jehovah personally, the soul commits its case to Him. This is a deep principle of true godliness. The soul knows the Lord and has faith in what He is. So it can trust Him and cast everything on Him when distress and hostility reach their worst.
The psalm keeps handing God more to hold.
The soul trusts the Lord with everything — "my spirit" (v. 5), "my times" (v. 15). Trials were there — fighting outside and fears inside. But the One the soul trusts "has known my soul in adversities."
One writer traces this faith from the psalm to Jeremiah and to the cross.
Psalm 31 presents a faith that could go through everything, even death itself, for the testimony and glory of Jehovah. That faith could still express its confidence in Him. So the blessed Saviour could say on the cross, "Into Your hand I commit My spirit" (v. 5). Jeremiah showed this faith for death. He went through all the horrors of the Babylonian siege of Jerusalem. He kept testifying among an evil people who had abandoned God, even when they were scattered in exile... In Psalm 31 the psalmist calls on the "El" of truth — the God who is the strength of holiness, supreme over evil. He calls on Him because he lives among a people who worship idols.
Jesus quoted the first line of this verse and stopped. One writer weighs both what He added and what He could not say.
Psalm 31 proves how Jesus could use the devout and holy words of a psalm, and even pass through it all in spirit, though the psalm did not apply to Him word for word. Here we find the words He used, "Into Your hand I commit my spirit." They were true in the fullest sense. But the psalm continues, "For You have redeemed me, O Jehovah God of truth" — and He added "Father." ... Still the words "You have redeemed me" cannot apply.
Luke records a loud cry first, then these words. One writer weighs what they show about how Jesus died.
In these closing words on the cross we see the One who had always submitted in prayer to the will of God. He closes His path as the perfect, dependent Man. Having said this, He gave up His spirit. Yet we see He is more than Man. One moment there was the loud voice and His strength was unweakened; the next moment He was dead. In every sense His was a supernatural death.
One writer sets Jesus' words beside the dying prayer of a servant of the Lord. They are close, but not the same.
Jesus could say, and He alone could say it rightly, "Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit." He could lay down His life and take it again, so He could speak that way to the Father. But the servant of the Lord could say, and rightly and blessedly, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
The verse ends by calling God faithful; older translations read "God of truth," and the writers quoted here use that older wording. One writer ties God's care of Christ's spirit to His care of ours.
His body went to the grave, but His spirit departed into the presence of God. God cared for the spirit of the Lord Jesus at that time. Just as truly, He cares for the spirits of all His saints at all times. This is absolutely true, since He has redeemed us — that is, He has set us free from the slavery of sin. The Old Testament does not tell us here how He did it, but we know it is by the precious blood of Christ. Then it adds, "O Lord God of truth." In redeeming us, God compromised nothing of the truth. He carried it out perfectly in this great work.
- Trust — the psalm's whole character is confidence in God, born of knowing Him. Trust casts everything on Him when pressure is at its worst.
- Hand — the psalm keeps handing God more: my spirit, my times, until nothing stays in the sufferer's own grip.
- Cross — Jesus took the first line and added "Father"; "You have redeemed me" was the one clause He could not say of Himself.
- Servant — only Jesus could commit His own spirit to the Father; His servant could only pray, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
- Truth — God redeemed us without bending truth, and the God who kept Christ's spirit keeps His people's.
I have hated them that observe lying vanities; and as for me, I have confided in Jehovah.
This verse sets two things side by side: worthless idols and the LORD. Older translations call the idols "lying vanities," and the psalmist makes plain where he stands on each.
The hating and the trusting are not two moods but one attachment. One writer traces it back to what a creature is before God:
Relationship to God is always one of dependence. On the creature's side, it is the relation of the weak to the strong, of the foolish and short-sighted to the One who is infinitely wise, of those prone to sin to the One who is always holy. It implies that He is to be their resource and help, even against themselves, and against every form of real evil. So the psalmist puts himself into Jehovah's hand, as his mighty and faithful Redeemer. His heart clings to Him, against every false confidence and senseless superstition of man.
This trust is not optimism about circumstances. It rests on knowing who God is:
Psalm 31 expresses complete confidence in Jehovah — the God we know in our relationship with Him. It is confidence in the most terrible trial and distress, even when sin has brought that trouble on. Yet where faith is at work, the soul counts on the known name of God... This is a deep principle of true godliness: such a knowledge of the Lord, such faith in what He is, that the soul can trust Him and cast everything on Him when distress and hostility reach their worst.
That kind of confidence is not the everyday setting of the Christian life, and the same writer says so plainly:
I would not say that this is the brightest exercise of faith... Nor is it the commonest; but God, in His rich mercy, has in His word met every need, and made provision in His word for every state. And the state of soul here is one of much exercised depth and intimacy of confidence in God, only learnt through needed distress.
So where are these worthless idols? One writer says most people look in the wrong place:
What is the vainest and most delusive of all vanities and delusions? Is it the world around us with lying vanities and vain glories? That was not what Jonah had to learn. We may well assume that the world's vanities were too well known to God's prophet for him to notice or regard them. No, the most deceptive of all "lying vanities" we do not have to look for in the outer world, but within ourselves. Our natural heart is that most deceptive of all "lying vanities."
Another writer, commenting on the prophet Jonah, names the cost:
Have we not proved the prophet's teaching true every time the lying vanities of the flesh, the world, or the devil have misled us? Yes — there is a way that seems right to a man (when he is under the power of these attractions), but its end is the ways of death. Mercy is never found in the path of sin.
What barely touched the prophet Jonah on the ship became unbearable to him in God's presence:
It may be that Jonah had watched the sailors as they called every man on his god, bowing down to vain idols, seeking help from them, and praying to them. It may not have affected him much at the time. One gets used to these things... Now, in the very presence of Jehovah his God, the very thought of such a thing was utterly detestable to Jonah's soul. He saw it all in its true light. He did not say, "It doesn't matter how they worship, as long as they are sincere." No, indeed!... There is mercy for all who turn to Jehovah. But let no one fool himself: vain idols can never bring mercy to the sinner, no matter how sincere the worshipper is.
One writer sees this choice tested most sharply in a crisis still to come:
The godly detest those with the opposite character, who pay regard to lying vanities (or worthless idols). This will stand out most when the lie of the antichrist is pressed on the people in the tribulation. However, with steadfast decision the psalmist says, "But I trust in the Lord."
Another writer turns the verse into a direct appeal:
All who reject Him, high or low, poor or rich, must bear their doom of endless shame and misery. Oh, why sin against God and His Christ and your own soul? Why regard lying vanities, whatever they may be, and forsake your own mercy?
- Trust picks a side. Clinging to God as Redeemer sets the heart against every false confidence.
- Trust is personal. It rests on knowing God Himself, so it holds when distress and hostility reach their worst.
- Trust exposes the idol nearest you. The most deceptive of all empty things is not out in the world but inside — the natural heart.
- Trust is where mercy is. Mercy is never found in the path of sin; vain idols bring none, however sincere the worshipper.
- Trust decides in advance. The steadfast "but I trust in the LORD" is the answer to every lie, and the plea now is: why forsake your own mercy?
I will be glad and rejoice in thy loving-kindness, for thou hast seen mine affliction; thou hast known the troubles of my soul,
This verse sits in a psalm written under heavy pressure from enemies. The surprise is the order: gladness first, rescue not yet, because God has already seen and already known.
The gladness rests on God's steadfast love, which one writer calls His mercy. He sets that trust against the empty things people put their faith in.
The godly soul's confidence was not in any of the senseless superstitions of men. It was in the Lord Himself and in His mercy — in the One who had seen his affliction and known the troubles of his soul.
Nothing has changed yet when the psalmist starts to rejoice. One commentator compares this to the comfort of someone who loves us but can do nothing to help.
Now he realizes Jehovah's mercy. He has seen his trouble and known his soul in its distress. How comforting to know that, even though deliverance has not come yet! What comfort there is in the presence of someone who loves us, even if they can do nothing else to help! But the psalmist can say more than that. He is not shut up in the enemy's hand. His feet stand in freedom, in a large place.
The knowing runs one way, from God to the soul. Older translations read the second half as "you have known my soul in adversity." One writer presses on that word order for anyone who knows he has gone wrong.
"You have known my soul in adversity" — it does not say my soul has known You. There is not yet a full grasp of His grace. I know I have been wrong, but "You have considered my trouble." I am in distress. What am I to do? Well, God has considered my trouble. There is no freedom yet. But if the word has reached the heart, there may be only the faintest sense of God, and still there is a link between the soul and God… Suppose a reader knows he has been going wrong in his conscience and wants to get back to God. I say, God knows it. He considers it. He weighs the whole process, and He will surely deliver.
Long trouble can feel like God has stopped paying attention. One writer answers that with a string of verbs.
The sufferer knows that Jehovah has considered his trouble. He has known his soul in its adversities. The sufferings did not mean that God had forgotten him. God has known, recognised, followed. His heart owned the sufferer's soul, and thought of it while the troubles were going on.
Verses 7 and 8 sound like a finished story. The description of the trial only starts at verse 9.
As often happens in the Psalms, we see the end as already reached (in verses 7 and 8) before we see the way to that end. What an encouragement to faith! Now we see that the way to that end is a severe test of faith. God does not make light of what His own people feel as they pass through the furnace of affliction.
This confidence is not the everyday tone of a believer. One writer says so, rather than making it the standard.
Not everyone has to pass through sorrows like these. But when they fall to a believer, they bring great closeness and confidence… I would not say this is the brightest exercise of faith… Nor is it the commonest. But God, in His rich mercy, has met every need in His word, and has made provision there for every state of soul. And the state of soul here is a deeply tested, close confidence in God, learned only through distress that was needed.
One writer reads the psalm as the voice of faithful people in a coming day of trouble. He also notes that the Lord took up some of its words.
The psalm voices the confidence of the godly remnant in Jehovah while they are in distress in the last days. For a time God is silent to their cry, and they seem to be left in the hands of their enemies. Christ fully entered into these sorrows. So the Lord used some of the expressions found here, though the psalm does not apply to Him literally.
- Seen — God has already looked at the affliction. That fact alone starts the rejoicing, before any rescue arrives.
- Known — the knowing runs from God to the soul, not from the soul to God; even a faint sense of Him means the link is there.
- Not forgotten — The suffering never meant God had lost track. He recognised, followed and owned that soul all the way through.
- Freed — the one who trusts is not shut up in the enemy's hand but stands in a place of freedom, his feet in a large place.
- Glad — Verse 7 announces the joy before the furnace described from verse 9. This depth of confidence is learned only through distress.
And hast not shut me up into the hand of the enemy thou hast set my feet in a large place.
Psalm 31 is the prayer of a man surrounded by enemies and worn down by grief. In verse 8 he turns from his troubles to what God has already done. No rescue is visible yet, but God has seen him, has refused to hand him over, and has given him room to stand.
The verse rests on the line just before it: God has known the distress of his soul. One writer points out which way that knowing runs.
"You have known my soul in adversity" — not, my soul has known You. There is as yet no full understanding of His grace. I know I have been wrong, but "You have considered my trouble." I am in distress. What am I to do? Well, God has considered my trouble. There is not liberty yet. But if the word has reached the heart, there may be the faintest perception of God, and still there is a link between the soul and God... Suppose a reader knows in his conscience that he has been going wrong, and wants to get back to God. I say, God knows it. He considers it — He weighs the whole process — and He will surely deliver.
Even while the trouble stands, God's knowing counts for something. One writer weighs that comfort, then says the psalmist can claim more.
Now he realizes the Lord's mercy. He has seen his trouble, known his soul in its straits. How comforting to know that, even though deliverance has not yet come! What comfort there is in the presence of someone who loves us, even though they are powerless to bring us any other help! But the psalmist can say more than that. He is not shut up in the enemy's hand; his feet are set in freedom, in a large place.
One writer reads the "hand of the enemy" as the bondage of sin and the power of Satan — a prison that may not feel like one.
In this Psalm the evil in view is the bondage of sin; men are not only servants of sin, but slaves of Satan... There they are — there we may be — held in bitter bondage. It may seem like liberty because our wills are in it, but it is real and thorough bondage. A man knows a thing is wrong and foolish, yet he goes on doing it. He is away from God, so he has no power to free himself from sin or from his passion. He cannot keep away from it until he gets back to God.
Older translations say "a large room" where the ESV says "a broad place." One writer gives the phrase two applications: one for Israel, one for the church.
Dependence rightly leads to rejoicing in the preserving mercy of God. He has observed the troubles of His servant and has understood his adversities. He has not allowed him to be shut up to the will of his enemy. Instead He has set his feet in a large place. 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.
Having the room is one thing; enjoying it is another. One writer ties that enjoyment to the gift of the Spirit.
Satan has no power against Christ on high; all his power was exhausted at the cross, and it is all gone. God "has delivered us from the domain of darkness," and set our feet in a large room. So that we may enjoy this large room, the Holy Spirit is given. "Stand fast in the liberty." Satan has no right or title against Christ. In Him I am delivered.
The same writer goes further. The room reaches past safety, into gladness in God Himself.
I add another thing that crowns it all: "we rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ." I know it is forever... "If God is for us, who can be against us?" No creature can separate us from the love of God. There we find ourselves... This is a "large room." All the holiness of God is our delight... If I cannot see the end of it, I can see it is boundless blessedness. And Christ is all and in all. May the Lord give us to dwell there! Surely it is a large place.
- Known. God knows your soul before you know much of Him. Even a faint sense of Him is already a link between you and Him.
- Considered. He weighs the whole process of your trouble. And He promises to deliver.
- Held. A friend who loves you comforts you even when he cannot help. God sees the distress and can end it.
- Freed. The enemy's grip can feel like liberty because our own wills are in it; the cross exhausted his power, and God gives the Spirit so we can enjoy the freedom.
- Enlarged. One writer sees the broad place in Israel's coming blessing and in the believer's place in heavenly places — a room with no end in sight.
Be gracious unto me, Jehovah, for I am in trouble mine eye wasteth away with vexation, my soul and my belly.
The psalm has just spoken of God's mercy and deliverance, and then the tone drops. Verse 9 turns from what faith knows to what the sufferer feels — a cry for mercy from a man worn down in eye, soul and body.
Commentators note the order here. Confidence comes first, and the detailed account of pain follows. The verse also shows what grief does to a person: it shrinks him.
Following the pattern of the Psalms, the trial comes after the deliverance, or at least after faith has anticipated it. The whole trouble is spread out before God, with every circumstance of sorrow and distress. The speaker is in a tight place. His eye has shrunk with sorrow — yes, and his soul and inmost parts too. Grief has consumed his life, and sighing his years. His strength fails, and even the solid bones are shrunken.
Up to this point the psalm has set out general grounds for appeal. From here it becomes personal and present. And it rests on something already known: God knows a soul in hard times.
In verse 7 the psalmist recognises Jehovah's goodness as mercy. God has known the soul of the believer in his troubles — a sweet thought, however dark everything may have been. And deliverance came. He pleads his extreme present distress. The first eight verses are a kind of preface of general principles; now it is the pressure of his present state.
The verse names both the inner life and the body — what the first writer called the inmost parts. Another writer weighs what happens when the two suffer together.
Now we see that the way to that deliverance is a severe test of faith. God does not minimize the feelings of His own as they pass through the furnace of affliction, and the psalmist cries out for the mercy of God. He is so troubled that his eye wastes away with grief. Both his soul and his body feel the excessive weight of deep affliction. At times the body may suffer when the soul is not affected. At other times the soul may suffer when the body does not. But when both are afflicted, the anguish becomes excruciating.
How things look and what faith holds are two different things.
Still, as to outward appearance, the soul is shut up in the power of the enemy.
The psalm is not only about one man's trouble. Writers point forward on two levels — to a faithful group of Israelites in a coming time of pressure, and to the Lord Himself, who used some of these words.
The psalm voices the confidence of the godly remnant in Jehovah while they are in distress in the last days. For a time God is silent to their cry, and to all appearance they are left in the hands of their enemies. Christ entered fully into these sorrows. So the Lord used some of the expressions here, though the psalm has no literal application to Him.
One writer traces what this meant for Christ's own path.
Christ did ask for life, and God gave it in resurrection and glory, as Psalm 21 shows — but not by sparing Him here. The path of life led Him through death, as He accomplished redemption, though death could not hold Him. So in spirit He entered into all their affliction.
- Order — Confidence comes first, then the trouble. Faith sees the end before it walks the road. The honest account of pain sits inside that confidence, not instead of it.
- Disclosure — Nothing is held back. The whole trouble goes out before God, down to the shrunken eye and the failing strength.
- Depth — The grief reaches soul and body together. God does not make light of what His own feel. When soul and body suffer at once, the anguish is at its worst.
- Contrast — To all appearance the sufferer is shut up in the enemy's power. That is how things look, and it is not what faith holds.
- Company — These sorrows are not the psalmist's alone. They belong to a godly people in a coming time of silence and pressure. Christ Himself entered fully into them.
For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength faileth through mine iniquity, and my bones are wasted.
Psalm 31 turns from settled confidence to raw complaint, and here the psalmist counts his trouble in years, not moments. Two questions follow: what does "iniquity" mean here, and whose voice is this — David's, Israel's, or Christ's?
Here the psalmist holds nothing back. One writer traces the complaint as it moves from the eye, to the soul, to the bones themselves.
The whole trouble is spread out before God, with every detail of sorrow and distress. The speaker is in a tight place. His eye is shrunken with grief — yes, and his soul and inmost parts too. His life is spent with grief, and his years with sighing. His strength fails, and the solid bones themselves are shrunken.
Several writers hold that the word behind "iniquity" does not point to sin at all. On this reading, the strength fails under the weight of the trouble itself.
The circumstances of this trial are spread out before the Lord. His whole body is afflicted by the trial; his life is spent in grief; his years with sighing; his strength fails because of his distress ("iniquity" can better be translated "misery" or "distress").
Darby agrees, and adds where he thinks the psalm lands: the writer's own feelings first, then something still ahead.
The word translated "iniquity," in verse 10, should, I have no doubt, be "distress." … In the writer's mind it applied literally to his own feelings. The prophetic application is to the godly remnant in the latter day.
The psalm shows the end reached first, and only then the hard road to it. One writer explains why this weight is so crushing.
As often happens in the Psalms, we see the end reached before we are shown the way to it. Now we see that the way to that end is a severe test of faith. God does not minimize the feelings of His own as they pass through the furnace of affliction, and the psalmist cries out for the mercy of God. Both his soul and his body feel the heavy weight of deep affliction. At times the body may suffer when the soul is not affected. At other times the soul may suffer when the body does not. But when both are afflicted, the anguish becomes excruciating.
The sufferer counts his trouble in years. One writer sets Paul beside him, and shows why the same pain felt so different.
No doubt the time seems longer than it is to the sufferer. He speaks of his life spent with grief and his years with sighing. In contrast to this Paul writes, "this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison" (2 Cor. 4:17). Paul's suffering was very likely just as severe as David's. But he fixed his eyes on the glory, not on present experience, so his heart rose high above his afflictions. This always makes the sufferings seem light and shorter.
Jesus quoted this psalm on the cross. Yet commentators differ over how much of it belongs to Him. Darby says He could use its words without every line applying to Him.
Psalm 31 proves how Jesus could use the devout and holy words of a psalm. He could even pass through all of it in spirit, without it applying to Him literally. Here is found the expression He used, "Into your hand I commit my spirit," which was in the fullest sense true. But the psalm continues: "for you have redeemed me, O LORD, God of truth." He added "Father." … Still, the words "you have redeemed me" cannot apply.
Pridham takes verse 10 differently. He hears in it Christ owning sin that was never His own by birth.
He appears before us not only as the patient servant of Jehovah, doing all righteousness while sinners spoke against Him. He is also the one who confessed sin itself, taking it on Himself for others (verse 10). This gracious taking up of His people's sin was the deep cause of that matchless sorrow. He alone could know it, because on Him alone it came as something that was His by no right of sinful birth. It came because He had come out from God for sinners' sakes, to do for His enemies the unwanted work of their redemption.
- Spread out. The sufferer hides nothing. Eye, soul, strength, bones — he lays it all before God.
- Named. Where the older text reads "iniquity," several writers translate the word as "distress" or "misery." Strength fails under trouble, not only under guilt.
- Shared. Soul and body suffer together here. That double weight makes the anguish so sharp, and God does not make light of it.
- Measured. Years of sighing to one man are a light momentary affliction to another. The difference is where the eyes rest: on the trial, or on the glory.
- Carried. Christ used this psalm's words on the cross. Writers differ on verse 10: is it His confession of His people's sin, or a sorrow He entered in spirit?
More than to all mine oppressors, I am become exceedingly a reproach, even to my neighbours, and a fear to mine acquaintance they that see me without flee from me.
Here David reaches the bottom of his complaint. Trouble has made him a man to avoid, and even his friends will not stand near him.
The rejection spreads in stages. It starts with his enemies and ends with strangers in the street. One writer names the reason even friends run: fear of catching his trouble.
As for others, he is a reproach among his enemies. His neighbours and acquaintances avoid him, for fear of sharing his reproach and trial. They prefer to forget him and treat him as a broken vessel that is flung aside as useless.
Another writer widens the scene. The whole neighbourhood watches, and no one steps in.
This misery is not even private. All around, his neighbours and acquaintances see his condition, hemmed in by eager enemies, and they avoid him, unwilling to share his lot. More than that, he has dropped out of memory like a dead man, or like a broken jar thrown on the rubbish heap. Worse, he has dropped out of the hearts that once held him in affection.
This is an old story in the Bible. One writer lines up families where the ties of blood covered real hatred.
Sacred history is not without examples of family ties covering family feuds, even when the hatred is only on one side. Cain killed Abel his brother. Jacob's sons sold Joseph into Egypt. Jesse's sons mocked David the shepherd, who killed Goliath in front of their eyes. And the Spirit of Christ in the prophets said, "I have become a stranger to my brothers, and an alien to my mother's children" (Ps. 69:8); and again, "Because of all my adversaries I have become a reproach, especially to my neighbors, and an object of dread to my acquaintances" (Ps. 31:11).
after quote was over half featured verse, and not ESV
So the words of verse 11 are more than David's own. This writer hears the Spirit of Christ in them.
Another writer looks ahead. He applies the verse to Jews in a coming day who will take their stand for Jesus as the true Messiah. That stand is what drives their neighbours away.
At that time many enemies will treat them with contempt, and so will their own neighbours and acquaintances (v. 11). For when they take a stand for Christ, the true Messiah, they will draw the bitter anger of their own Jewish friends and neighbours. They will also meet the hostility of Gentile unbelievers. Even those who saw him outside would keep away, not wanting anyone to see them with a man who was on the side of God's Messiah.
Commentators differ here. Some read the psalm as David's own experience. Some hear a faithful remnant of Jews in a coming day. Some hear the voice of Christ. Several hold more than one of these together.
One writer applies this desolation to Christ Himself.
He was then deserted by all: slander, fear, and reproach were on every side; His eye, His soul, and His body were consumed, and He was treated as one already dead, cast aside as a broken vessel.
Another writer sets a limit here. The psalm is Christ's, but one line in it could never be true of Him.
Psalm 31 proves how Jesus could use the devout and holy expressions of a psalm, and indeed pass through it all in spirit, without it having a literal application to Him. Here is found the expression He used, "Into your hand I commit my spirit," which was true in the fullest sense. Still the words, "you have redeemed me," cannot apply.
The friends ran. One writer points out whose hand still held the trial and its end.
The whole complaint of the psalm is, besides David, the complaint and confidence of the remnant. Distress pressed upon him and drank up his strength. Yet, tried for faithfulness, friends and acquaintances fled from him. Such will be the condition of the remnant. How truly Christ entered into it, I need not say. But the time of deliverance was in God's hand — not the enemy's, though he might rage. So was all that the saint should be under and pass through at any time. And in the adversities Jehovah knew his soul... The presence of Jehovah was a shelter and a hiding-place.
- Circle. The reproach spreads in stages: enemies first, then neighbours, then acquaintances, then strangers who flee at the sight of him.
- Contagion. The friends avoid him because they fear sharing his reproach and trial. They prefer to forget him instead of standing near him.
- Cost. Those who take a public stand for Christ meet the same treatment. People keep their distance so no one links them with God's Messiah.
- Company. Christ entered this place Himself. Everyone deserted Him, slander pressed in on every side, and men threw Him aside like a broken jar.
- Custody. The friends fled, but the trial and its end stayed in God's hand, not the enemy's. In the distress, He knew the sufferer's soul.
I am forgotten in [their] heart as a dead man; I am become like a broken vessel.
Psalm 31 is the prayer of a man surrounded by enemies, and here his complaint hits bottom. He is still alive, yet the people around him have already dropped him from their memory. Does being forgotten by everyone mean a man is finished?
A dead man and a broken pot: both pictures show something thrown away. One writer follows the steps down, and the last step is the worst:
All around, his neighbours and acquaintances see his condition, surrounded by eager enemies, and they avoid him, unwilling to share his lot. Even more, like a dead man, or a broken vessel thrown onto the rubbish heap, he has dropped out of memory — worse, out of the hearts that once held him in affection.
To fall out of people's thoughts is bad. To fall out of their hearts is worse. That is the order this writer traces.
Commentators hear this cry in the mouth of Christ. What makes it so bitter is who forgot Him — the very people He had done nothing but good to:
He too was led to prison and to death. In full measure He had to meet the base ingratitude of those who had received only good at His hands. So, with a heart broken by love that was never returned, He cries, "I have been forgotten like one who is dead" (Ps. 31:12).
This is not just past history. The world still files Jesus away among the dead, and it does so against the evidence:
Such loneliness in trial is painful. But how true this is of the Lord Jesus! The world considers Him dead, despite every clear testimony that He is raised and glorified.
"A broken vessel" is how the man rates himself: useless, fit only to be thrown out. The same writer separates what the sufferer feels from what is true:
The psalmist says he was "like a broken vessel," unfit for any use. But of course, he is simply expressing his feelings, for the Lord makes all His own fit for His own use.
That is the rescue in this verse. The feeling is honest, but it is not the last word: the Lord still has a use for him.
David was not the only one shunned like this. One writer points to Jeremiah, a prophet who went through the same thing and borrowed the psalm's own words:
Reproach, slander, lying lips — all this he experienced. Were such trials confined to David? No. Jeremiah entered into what verse 13 speaks of, and quotes the words of this Psalm, confident of the power and presence of Jehovah with him (Jer. 20:10-11). Others, then, may meet similar treatment, and afterwards deliverance too at the hands of God.
Commentators differ over who speaks here. Some keep the complaint with David and those who suffer as he did. Others hear the voice of Christ in it.
The verse itself says nothing about God. The psalm around it does. One writer holds two things together: his friends drop him, yet his enemies do not control what happens to him.
Yet, tried for faithfulness, friends and acquaintances fled from him... But the time of deliverance was in God's hand, and so was everything the saint would ever be under and pass through — not in the enemy's hand, though he might rage. And in his troubles Jehovah knew his soul, for he walks in the knowledge of his covenant relationship with God.
Human memory failed him. Divine knowledge did not.
- Forgotten. First they avoid him. Then they forget him. Worst of all, he drops out of the hearts that once loved him.
- Felt. "A broken vessel" is how he feels, not what he is; the Lord still makes all His own fit for His own use.
- Fulfilled. Christ cries these words too. He met base ingratitude from people who had received only good from His hands.
- Filed away. The world still counts Him dead. Every clear testimony says He is raised and glorified.
- Found. His friends fled. But the time of his deliverance stayed in God's hand, not the enemy's, and in his troubles the Lord knew his soul.
For I have heard the slander of many -- terror on every side -- when they take counsel together against me they plot to take away my life.
Psalm 31 reaches its lowest point here. The sufferer has already been forgotten and thrown aside. Now he hears a whole crowd whispering, and they want him dead. The verse holds two evils at once — words that destroy a reputation, and a plot that aims at a life.
Friends back away first. Then his enemies close in.
He is a reproach to his enemies. His neighbours and acquaintances avoid him, for fear of sharing his reproach and trial. They prefer to forget him and treat him as a broken vessel that is flung aside as useless. He is slandered by many; the object of terror on every side; while some take counsel against him to destroy him.
What makes the plotting so bitter is that it comes after he has already been written off as finished.
Even more, like a dead man, or a broken vessel cast upon the refuse-heap, he has dropped out of the memory — worse, out of the hearts that once held him in affection. And even yet this desolate and cast-off life men cannot leave alone, but have conspired to take it.
This same Hebrew phrase later became a man's name.
God gave this symbolic name through Jeremiah to Pashhur, the priest who had beaten him and put him in the stocks (Jer. 20:1-3). In the margin it is "fear round about." The same Hebrew is translated "fear on every side" in Jer. 20:10. God would make Pashhur a terror to himself and to all his friends.
Jeremiah later quoted this very line as his own.
Reproach, slander, lying lips — all this he experienced. Were such trials confined to David? No. Jeremiah went through what verse 13 describes. He quotes the words of this Psalm, sure of the power and the presence of the Lord with him (Jer. 20:10-11). So others may meet the same treatment, and afterwards receive deliverance from God too.
Paul knew the same pressure, and it did not mean his faith had collapsed.
With Paul, as with an earlier sufferer for the truth (Ps. 31:13), "fear was on every side" from the malice of man... His faith did not fail him, yet his natural spirit shrank back. He was a man with the same passions and weaknesses as ourselves. And the heart that is truly afraid is the one that finds its sheltering rest in God.
Slander does more than wound feelings. Satan uses it, and in Jeremiah's case it stopped his service for a time.
He would seek by every trick — through our sins or otherwise — to persuade us that God is not for us. If he succeeds, our confidence is gone. In conflict we have no energy left. In service our hands hang down and our knees become feeble. See the case of Jeremiah. He said, "O Lord, you are stronger than I, and you have prevailed. I will not make mention of the Lord, nor speak any more in His name... For I hear many whispering, terror on every side. Denounce him! Let us denounce him!" The spring of service was gone. It was not so afterwards. Then he could go on through all opposition, because he knew himself to be "strong in the Lord."
The psalmist says he hears it. Hearing slander is unavoidable; giving it the final word is not.
While hearing such slander, there is no reason for the believer to listen to it. Their plotting may indeed take away the believer's life. But that victory will be short-lived. The history of the Lord Jesus proves it: crucified by men, but raised by the power of God.
The same psalm also shows where God keeps the people being whispered about.
He discovers that the goodness of God is "laid up" for those who fear God, however dark the circumstances. For a time it seems that men are allowed to have their way. Yet God can keep His people in the secret of His presence, whatever the outward circumstances. He can preserve them from the strife of tongues.
That shelter turns into a policy for handling attacks — leaving them unanswered.
Mere attacks on my statements I would not notice, as I see no Christian profit in it. Where the will of man is at work in them, I leave them to Him whose will is above all human wills. I have always found it a happy course, and the way to be really sheltered from any and every attack. "You shall hide them by your presence from the pride of man; you shall keep them secretly in your shelter from the strife of tongues."
- Forgotten, then hunted. People have already thrown him aside like a broken pot, and even now his enemies plot to destroy him.
- Terror named. "Fear on every side" is the same word God turned into a name for Pashhur, who had beaten Jeremiah and put him in the stocks.
- Shared, not unique. Jeremiah quoted this line. Paul knew fear on every side while his faith held. The experience reaches far past David.
- The real target. Satan's aim is to persuade you that God is not for you. Jeremiah's service dried up until he could go on "strong in the Lord."
- The shelter. Hearing slander is not the same as listening to it. God keeps His own in the secret of His presence, away from the strife of tongues.
But I confided in thee, Jehovah; I said, thou art my God.
Psalm 31 is a psalm of pressure: enemies plotting, friends fleeing, slander on every side. At verse 14 the tone breaks: the sufferer stops describing his trouble and turns to speak to God.
The verse opens with a contrast — "But I" — set against everything described before it. One writer sees the storm itself as the thing that lifts the psalmist to safety:
But out of it all he turns to God again. The waves only fling him higher on the rock. "But as for me, I have trusted in You, Jehovah: I have said, You are my God! My times are in Your hand." Oh what a song the wind's wild music makes, when someone can truly say that from the heart! And though the prayer still goes on, "deliver me from the hand of my enemies," yet the perplexity is gone.
Notice what does not change. The danger stays, the prayer for rescue continues — what lifts is the confusion.
The trouble behind this verse is not only violence but words. One writer names the causes of a believer's trials, and points to a later prophet who used this psalm's words:
Open persecution, God's hand of government on His servant, secret plotting, and slanderous accusations are the great causes of trial to the believer... Reproach, slander, lying lips — he went through all of it. Were such trials limited to David? No. Jeremiah entered into what verse 13 describes. He quotes the words of this psalm, confident that Jehovah was with him in power and presence (Jer. 20:10-11). So others may meet the same treatment, and God may deliver them too.
The second half of the verse is not a general statement about God. It is a claim of possession, and one writer makes it the source of everything steady in a believer's life:
Verses 14 and 15 tell us the secret of an unshaken soul, and of true stability in all godly service. It is the undivided confidence of the heart in God. "You are my God." Where faith can take hold of God like this as its portion, giving up every anxiety about circumstances is the proper result.
This confidence is not the psalmist thinking well of himself. The same psalm admits that sin helped bring the trouble on. One writer marks the difference:
Psalm 31 expresses complete confidence in Jehovah — God known in our relationship with Him. It speaks out of the most terrible trial and distress, and even where sin has brought that trouble on. Yet where faith is at work, the soul counts on the known name of God... This is not counting on God out of pride. It is trusting Jehovah for what He is — His name — while fully confessing failure... The special mark of the psalm is trust, and, out of personal knowledge of Jehovah, the handing over of your case to Him.
Earlier in the psalm stand the words Jesus spoke as He died. One writer says He entered fully into the psalm's spirit, though not every line fits Him:
Psalm 31 proves how Jesus could use the devout and holy words of a psalm, and truly pass through it all in spirit. Yet the psalm does not apply to Him literally. Here we find the words He used, "Into your hand I commit my spirit," which were true in the fullest sense. But the psalm continues, "For you have redeemed me, O Jehovah God of truth." — He added the word "Father." Yet I do not doubt that His spirit had come back into the comfort of divine delight. Still the words, "you have redeemed me," cannot apply.
The same writer shows this trust in Jesus Himself:
It was like this with Jesus, the author and finisher of faith. He suffered at the will of God, whom He both knew and loved. The Father's hand mixed the cup of bitterness. He drank it in pure committal of His soul to Him.
Once faith claims God as its own, the enemies shrink to their real size:
He has spoken of the ungodly and their evil scheming. Now the psalmist says, "As for me." Whatever men may do or be, he will simply trust in the Lord (v. 14), persuaded that "You are my God." When this is so, what are all the enemies?
- Surrounded — slander, plotting and fear press in on every side. Jeremiah later took up these same words in the same trouble.
- But — faith's turn does not remove the danger or end the prayer for rescue; it ends the perplexity. The waves fling him higher on the rock.
- Mine — "You are my God" is faith taking hold of God as its own portion. One writer calls this the secret of an unshaken soul.
- Not pride — the trust rests on God's known name. The man who prays admits that his own failure brought the trouble on.
- Therefore — with God claimed as his own, the psalmist can commit his case to Him; what then are all the enemies?
My times are in thy hand deliver me from the hand of mine enemies, and from my persecutors.
Slander and plots surround David, and in verse 14 he turns and says, "You are my God." Then comes the sentence that carries that whole trust — his life, its seasons, its outcome, handed over while his enemies are still there.
Handing over the times grows out of the confession made just before it. One writer traces that order:
In verses 14 and 15 we have the secret of a soul that nothing can shake, and of true stability in all godly service. It is the undivided confidence of the heart in God. "You are my God." When faith takes hold of God like this as its portion, letting go of all anxiety about circumstances follows naturally. "My times are in Your hand" is then the calm and happy expression of the richest contentment.
Earlier in the psalm David had already handed over his spirit. One writer notes that nothing is held back:
Everything is trusted with the Lord — "my spirit" (v. 5), "my times" (v. 15). Trials were there — fighting outside, fears inside. But the One he trusts "has known my soul in adversities."
The verse sets two hands side by side: God's, and the enemies'. One writer says which of them is in control:
The time of deliverance was in God's hand. So was the time of everything the saint should ever be under and pass through. It was not in the enemy's hand, though he might rage. And in his troubles Jehovah knew his soul, for he walks knowing that God has bound Himself to him by covenant.
If the times were ours to set, we would set them wrong. One writer puts the alternatives in a line:
If our times were in our own hand, we would have deliverance too soon. If they were in our enemy's hand, we would have deliverance too late. But my times are in Your hand, and God's time is always best. Everything is beautiful in its season. When the mercy is ripe, we shall have it… Deliverance may be later than our time, but it will not be later than God's time.
One writer takes the thought a step further, from timing to measure:
No sorrow can go further than He pleases; for "my times are in your hand."
One writer points out that Jesus used the words of this psalm, though not every line of it applies to Him:
Psalm 31 shows how Jesus could use the devout and holy words of a psalm, and pass through it all in spirit, without the psalm applying to Him word for word. Here we find the words He used, "Into your hand I commit my spirit," which were true in the fullest sense. But the psalm goes on, "you have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God."… Still, the words "you have redeemed me" cannot apply to Him.
Another writer ties the verse to how Jesus met the devil's temptation:
The devil proposed that the Lord should throw Himself down from the top of the temple, and by such a feat gain two things at once: to put God to the test and prove whether He was the special object of His care, according to the words the devil had quoted; and to convince the crowd in the temple courtyard that He was the Messiah, the Son of God… It was no business of His to put God's word to the test, to see whether God would honour it or not… Nor was it His business to clear His own name before the people. "My times are in Your hand" was the whole spirit of His life and activities, and He would not take them out of God's hands.
The second half of the verse is still a cry for help. Handing the times over does not stop the asking. It changes the tone of it:
"My times are in Your hand" (v. 15). To know this surely gives quiet peace in the middle of whatever the circumstances, with true confidence that his prayer will be answered: "Deliver me from the hand of my enemies, and from those who persecute me."
- Two hands. The verse names both — God's hand and the enemy's hand — and settles which one holds your life. The enemy may rage, but he does not hold the clock.
- His hand opens to trust. "You are my God" comes first. Only a heart that owns Him as its portion can lay down its anxiety about circumstances.
- His hand sets the time. Left to us, rescue comes too early. Left to our enemies, too late. He gives the mercy when it is ripe.
- His hand sets the limit. No sorrow travels further than He permits, because the times that carry it are already held.
- His hand still receives the prayer. Resting in it did not silence David's "rescue me" — it steadied it. Christ Himself lived by this verse and would not force God's hand.
Make thy face to shine upon thy servant; save me in thy loving-kindness.
This prayer rises in the middle of trouble, with enemies pressing in. It comes right after the psalmist says that his times are in God's hand. He asks for two things: the light of God's face, and rescue that rests on God's love, not on himself.
The psalmist has turned from his enemies back to God. One writer notes that the asking itself already carries light.
But out of it all he turns to God again. The waves only fling him higher on the rock. "But as for me, I have trusted in You, Jehovah: I have said, You are my God! My times are in Your hand." What a song the wild music of the wind makes, when that can really be said from the heart! And though the prayer still goes on, "deliver me from the hand of my enemies," the confusion is gone. "Make Your face to shine," he says; but its rays are already lighting up his heart as he says so.
Earlier in this psalm the writer asks God to lead and guide him. The shining face is the second half of that prayer: not only a way to walk, but the assurance that the way is right.
God wishes to reveal His will to us about our life. And if we recognise and carry out His will, He will give us the assurance that the way we are going matches His will. We shall see His face shining over our way. In Psalm 31 we find these two aspects. First David asks for God's guidance and leading: "and, for Your name's sake, You will lead me and guide me" (Ps. 31:3). Then he expresses the wish: "Make Your face to shine upon Your servant" (Ps. 31:16).
One writer says God has already answered this prayer by sending His Son.
"Make Your face shine upon Your servant" (v. 16). This is just what God has done in sending His Son into the world. For "it is the God who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6).
Why is this not a frightening thing to ask for? The answer lies in whose face the glory shines from.
We can look back to the cross and also look up to a glorified Christ. Then we see nothing less than "the shining forth of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6). And we see it without fear or worry, because it is in the face of Him who suffered for us that we see God's glory. Glory on its own causes fear, but glory in the face of Christ is glory in grace.
The psalmist is God's servant already, yet he still asks for the light of God's face. One writer separates what is true of the Christian from what he feels day by day.
Encouraged to seek the face of the Lord, he prays that the Lord will not hide His face. He asks the Lord to keep him in the sense of His favour shining on him. It is one thing for the Christian to know that he is accepted in the Beloved and stands in the favour of God. It is another thing to walk in the conscious sense of this favour.
So what does that shining face give the one who asks for it?
For us it means nothing less than the direct enjoyment of God Himself. It is a particular kind of blessing that hearts like ours could never appreciate enough. He never blesses us so supremely as when He makes Himself the object of our hearts, today and for eternity.
The second half of the verse names the ground of rescue: not the psalmist's record, but God's steadfast love — older translations call it His loving-kindness. One writer ties this directly to the psalm's earlier confidence about his times.
But, while casting Himself on mercies — the place of the remnant — His times being in Jehovah's hands, we find good laid up for the righteous, hidden from the pride of man outside, and from the strife of reproachful tongues within.
This is the settled habit of the Psalms as a whole, and commentators contrast it sharply with any idea of earning rescue:
What is remarkable in the Psalms is that they constantly appeal to the mercy of God. They always put it before His righteousness. It will be the same with Israel in the day to come.
- Trust first. The prayer follows "my times are in Your hand." The trouble has not changed, but the confusion is gone. Light already reaches the heart that asks.
- Face means guidance. Having asked God to lead him, the psalmist asks for the shining face: the assurance that the way he walks is God's way.
- Face means Christ. Writers connect this prayer to 2 Corinthians 4:6. God has made His face shine by sending His Son. Glory in that face is glory in grace, not terror.
- Face means enjoyment. Knowing you are accepted is one thing. Walking day by day in the sense of His favour is another. The highest blessing comes when God makes Himself the object of the heart.
- Love, not merit. He asks for rescue on the ground of God's steadfast love. The Psalms put His mercy before His righteousness.
Jehovah, let me not be ashamed; for I have called upon thee let the wicked be ashamed, let them be silent in Sheol.
This verse asks two things at once: keep me from shame, and let shame fall on the wicked. Both rest on the trust the psalmist has just spoken. But what does it mean to ask that the wicked go "silently to Sheol"?
This prayer does not come from a calm life. It comes out of deep distress. One writer traces the turn: the trouble does not stop, but it drives the psalmist closer to God.
But out of it all he turns to God again. The waves only fling him higher on the rock. "But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hand." What a song the wild music of the wind makes, when a man can say that and mean it! And though the prayer still goes on, "deliver me from the hand of my enemies," the perplexity is gone.
The verse asks for two things at once, and they belong together. A summary of this section of the psalm places them side by side.
Despite this deep distress, the soul trusts in the Lord, knowing that his times are in the Lord's hands. So he looks to God for deliverance from his enemies, and for the favour of God to shine upon him. He prays that, as he calls upon the Lord, he may not be ashamed. He prays too that the wicked, who have treated the righteous with contempt, may be silenced in shame.
Notice the ground he stands on: not his record, but his call to God. One writer carries that same confidence over to believers now.
For us today, having this treasure in clay jars, we have no reason to be ashamed or discouraged. Rather, with all confidence and boldness we call on the name of the Lord (v. 17). Meanwhile, those who do not know His grace may well be ashamed and be reduced to silence in the grave. For there are many who do not hesitate to tell brazen lies. Their lying lips will be put to silence, however proudly, insolently and contemptuously they speak against the righteous.
Some have read the second half of the verse as a picture of the lost suffering after death. That reading is rejected plainly, along with the same use of several other passages.
It is a mistake to apply Ps. 31:17, 1 Sam. 2:9, Ps. 63:11, Matt. 22:13 to souls in torment.
Another writer explains why the Old Testament speaks of the grave as a place of silence and forgetting. The words mark the edge of what was known then.
The Old Testament Scriptures speak of "no remembrance" and the like "in the grave." That language itself admits the existence of something which does not remember. But this is no revelation from God. It is the expression of man's ignorance, or of his knowledge that present ways of relationship and activity are over. That was all they knew.
Can a Christian pray the second half of this verse as it stands? One writer groups it with many psalms that call for the downfall of enemies. He then marks the difference between their ground and the Christian's.
Compare Ps. 5:10; Ps. 7:6; Ps. 17:13-14; Ps. 28:4; Ps. 31:17-18… Throughout, earthly judicial righteousness is the atmosphere. It is not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel, pray, worship and walk.
That distinction is not a criticism of the psalm. The same writer says so plainly.
Far be it from us to say that the Psalms are not right. This is what marked out the saints in Israel long ago. It will mark them out again in the day of the Lord, when the former dominion returns in still greater glory.
- Trust first. The plea rises out of "my times are in your hand." The waves only fling the psalmist higher on the rock: the danger stays, but his confusion goes.
- Calling is the ground. He asks not to be put to shame for one reason only: he has called on God. He offers nothing in himself.
- Shame changes sides. Shame falls on both sides of this verse. The one who calls on God escapes it. Those who treated the righteous with contempt meet it.
- Silence is the grave, not torment. Commentators reject reading "silently to Sheol" as a picture of souls in torment. The words mark the end of present activity and relationship — all that was known then.
- Pray it with care. This psalm breathes earthly judicial righteousness, not the grace a Christian walks in now. It was right for those who prayed it, and it will be right again in its day.
Let the lying lips become dumb, which speak insolently against the righteous in pride and contempt.
This verse is a prayer, and it closes a long description of slander. A man surrounded by hostile talk asks God to silence the mouths that speak against the righteous — but who are they, and may Christians pray this way?
The verse closes a section where the sufferer, deep in trouble, has already put his case in God's hands.
(vv. 14-18) Despite this deep distress, the soul trusts in the Lord, knowing that his times are in the Lord's hands. So he looks to God for deliverance from his enemies, and for the favour of God to shine upon him. He prays that he may not be ashamed as he calls on the Lord. He prays too that the wicked, who have treated the righteous with contempt, may be silenced in shame.
The talk had already emptied his life of friends, and then it hardened into a plot against his life.
The whole trouble is spread out before God, with every circumstance of sorrow and distress. He is in a tight place. His life is spent with sorrow, his years with sighing, and his strength fails… His neighbours and acquaintances see his condition, surrounded by eager enemies, and they avoid him, unwilling to share his lot. Even more, like a dead man, or a broken jar thrown on the rubbish heap, he has dropped out of memory. Worse, he has dropped out of the hearts that once held him in affection. And even this desolate, cast-off life men cannot leave alone, but have conspired to take it.
Notice the order. He first sees what God will do with the wicked, and only then asks for it.
But out of it all he turns to God again. The waves only fling him higher on the rock… And though the prayer still goes on, "deliver me from the hand of my enemies," the perplexity is gone. "Make your face shine," he says. Yet its rays are already lighting up his heart as he says it. Then he sees the glory of God's presence turn its terror on his enemies: the wicked will be put to shame; they will go silently to Sheol." And he puts his consenting Amen into a prayer: "Let the lying lips be mute, which speak insolently against the righteous in pride and contempt!"
Lies are loud now. They will not always be, and that keeps the believer from losing heart while the talk goes on.
For us today, we hold this treasure in clay jars, and we have no reason to be ashamed or discouraged. With full confidence and boldness we call on the name of the Lord (v. 17). Those who do not know His grace may well be ashamed and fall silent in the grave. Many do not hesitate to indulge in brazen falsehood, and their lying lips will be silenced, however proudly, insolently and contemptuously they speak against the righteous.
Commentators are careful here. A prayer asking God to silence enemies is not simply transferred to the present.
David asks that the wicked may bear the results of their evil deeds, and be dealt with according to the wickedness of their aims. In our own day of grace, we may not pray for such judgment on enemies. We pray instead that they may be saved. But when the day of grace has ended, the godly of Israel who remain faithful will then rightly plead for the judgment of the ungodly. It will be right then to ask that God will give them what they deserve.
This fits how the psalm as a whole is taken. It gives words to a suffering people still to come, and words the Lord Himself has passed through.
The psalm voices the confidence of the faithful few in Israel who trust Jehovah in the middle of their distress in the last days. For a time God is silent to their cry, and they seem to be left in the hands of their enemies. Christ fully entered into these sorrows, and so there are expressions here that the Lord used, though there is no literal application to Him.
The request is not arrogance. The man asking has confessed his own failure, so he leans on God's character rather than his own record.
It is not counting on God with pride. It is Jehovah trusted for what He is — His name — but with the fullest confession of failure… The mark of the psalm is trust, and the handing over of one's case to Him out of personal knowledge of Jehovah. And this is a principle of complete righteousness, because the soul cannot look to God like this except in righteousness.
- Slandered. Neighbours avoid him, friends forget him like a broken jar thrown out, and enemies plot his death. That is the noise the verse asks God to stop.
- Trusting. His times are in the Lord's hands before he ever names his enemies. The prayer rises out of settled confidence, not panic.
- Consenting. He first sees God's verdict on the wicked, then turns it into a prayer — his Amen to what God has already said.
- Silenced. Brazen falsehood has an end, however proud and contemptuous it sounds. So believers need not be ashamed or discouraged now.
- Measured. Today we pray that enemies may be saved. The plea for judgment belongs to the godly of a later day.
[Oh] how great is thy goodness, which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee, [which] thou hast wrought for them that trust in thee, before the sons of men!
For eighteen verses this psalm has been in trouble — enemies, slander, wasted strength, a soul in distress. Then the voice changes to wonder. What has God stored up for those who fear Him? Why is so much of it still held in reserve? And what does it mean that He works it out where everyone can see?
This verse opens the closing section. One commentator reads it as the answer the earlier crying was waiting for. The goodness is real even while the situation looks like defeat.
(vv. 19-22) The closing verses present the answer to the cry of the godly soul. He discovers that however dark the circumstances, God's goodness is "laid up" for those who fear God. For a time it seems that God lets men have their way. Yet, whatever the outward circumstances, God can keep His people in the secret of His presence. He can guard them from the strife of tongues, and in the end show His wonderful kindness.
Older translations say "laid up" where the ESV says "stored up." Both point to something held in reserve. One writer notices that the same words cover the treasure and the people it is kept for.
God's goodness was only "laid up" for those who fear Him, at a time when they had no experience of it yet. And those who run to Him for refuge are laid up too, held in unseen Arms — hidden from plots and from the whole strife of tongues, walled in as in a fortified city. There had been alarm, and unbelief had misread God's silence. Yet He had heard, all along.
The last clause sets all this "in the sight of the children of mankind." It cuts both ways. God acts where everyone can see, and so should the person who trusts Him.
There is no measuring how great God's goodness is, which He has laid up for those who trust Him, "in the presence of the sons of men" (v. 19). There is no reason to hide our trust in the Living God from other people. It should be plain in everything we say and do. Yet God will hide believers in the secret of His presence from all the scheming plots of men.
Another writer ties the two halves of the verse together: fear of God is exactly what removes the fear of men, and God does not only prepare the blessing — He prepares the person.
Jesus has entered His rest. Now His voice comes from heaven, speaking by the Spirit about the things laid up with God for those who fear Him. Because they fear Him, they are neither afraid nor ashamed to admit before other people that they trust Him (verse 19).
The verse says God has both stored up and worked. The same writer applies that working to the person, not just the gift.
The Christian knows two things. God has prepared things for him that are beyond what anyone can imagine. And God has also made the Christian himself fit for those very things (2 Cor. 5:5). God has shaped and prepared him, in Christ, to share in His joys.
The verse names who this goodness is for: those who fear Him and those who take refuge in Him. One writer asks what it means to trust God for real.
God deals in realities. He can never fail a trusting heart. But then, He must be trusted. There is no use talking about trusting Him while our hearts are leaning on created things. "What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works?" An empty claim is only a delusion to the soul and a dishonour to God. The true life of faith is something solid and real. God delights in it, and it glorifies Him. There is nothing in all this world that so gratifies and glorifies God as the life of faith.
Up to this point the psalm has been one man's rescue. Here that safe place widens to take in others, and it turns into a call.
When we come to Psalm 31:19 we find him sharing this place of safety with others… No wonder he calls on them to recognise the grace God has shown them: "Love the LORD, all you His saints!" How can we do otherwise, since "the LORD preserves the faithful"?
- Stored — the goodness is "laid up," held in reserve; the psalmist blesses God for it before he has tasted it.
- Sheltered — the same word covers the people. Those who take refuge are stored away too, hidden from plots and from the strife of tongues.
- Shown — God does not hide His kindness. He works it out where everyone can see, and our trust in Him should be just as visible in what we say and do.
- Suited — God prepares the blessing and prepares the person for it, shaping him in Christ to share His joys.
- Shared — the rescue does not stop with one man. It becomes a call to all God's people: love Him, because He preserves the faithful.
Thou keepest them concealed in the secret of thy presence from the conspiracies of man; thou hidest them in a pavilion from the strife of tongues.
Psalm 31 is the prayer of a man surrounded by slander and plotting enemies. Verse 20 does not promise him a change of circumstances; it promises a hiding place — so where is that shelter, and what does it shelter from?
The verse before speaks of goodness "laid up" for those who fear God. One writer points out that the people themselves are laid up in the same way:
God's goodness was only "laid up" for those who fear Him, at a time when they had no experience of it yet. His refugees too are laid up, held in unseen Arms — hidden from conspiracies and the whole strife of tongues, fenced round as in a fortified city.
The word translated "shelter" or "pavilion" is an everyday one. A dictionary of Bible words gives its plain sense:
A booth or tent, used poetically for a dwelling. Ps. 27:5; Ps. 31:20.
So the shelter is God's own tent. It holds even when nothing outward has changed:
He discovers that the goodness of God is "laid up" for those who fear God, however dark the circumstances. For a time it may look as if the sons of men are allowed to have their way. Yet whatever the outward circumstances, God can keep His people in the secret of His presence. He can preserve them from the strife of tongues, and at the end show His marvellous kindness.
Trust in God is meant to be seen. The hiding place is not — and one writer says why:
There is no measuring the greatness of God's goodness, which He has laid up for those who trust Him, in the sight of everyone (v. 19). There is no reason to hide from the sons of men that we trust the Living God: It should in fact be clear in everything we say and do. Yet God will hide believers in the secret of His presence from all the scheming plots of men. Why is this secret? Because the world does not understand it. Outside of that secret place is "the strife of tongues," the bitter, conflicting arguments of those who depend on their own empty reasoning.
The danger named in the verse is speech. One writer weighs what words can do, and warns believers too:
The tongues of sinful men can be sharp instruments causing havoc — sharpened like a serpent's tongue, with poison under the lips (Ps. 140:3). The "strife of tongues" (Ps. 31:20) is a terrible thing. Even we as believers need the warning. The tongue, used in the wrong way, can cause great damage, just as a small fire can set a great forest ablaze (Jas. 3:2–12).
One commentator, writing about attacks on his own teaching, made this verse his settled policy:
I would not notice mere attacks on my statements, as I see no Christian profit in it. I leave them, where the will of man is at work in them, to Him whose will is above all human wills. I have always found it a happy course, and the way to be truly sheltered from any and every attack. "In the cover of your presence you hide them from the plots of men; you store them in your shelter from the strife of tongues."
The same writer says what nearness to God produces, and ends with a call:
The sense of His presence gives joy, calmness, and courage when we face the enemy. In the difficulties of the way we rest in Him. The presence of God, a true and real thing for the heart, keeps the conscience awake and fills the heart with quiet confidence. Draw near to Him.
One writer calls God's people His "hidden ones" — sheltered even while God stays silent:
The enemies of God take advantage of His patience and His silence. They raise their voice against Him and lift themselves up. Their hatred of God comes out against God's people — His hidden ones, whom God has secretly sheltered, even if for a time He does not step in publicly on their behalf (cp. Ps. 31:20).
- Laid up. God stores up His goodness before you feel it. He stores up His people too — hidden while the trouble still runs.
- Hidden where. The shelter is a tent, a dwelling — God's own presence, not a change in circumstances.
- Hidden from what. From the plots of proud men and from the strife of tongues: the bitter arguments of people reasoning without God.
- Hidden, yet not silent. Your trust should be plain to everyone. Only the hiding place stays secret, because the world cannot understand it.
- Hidden and quiet. Nearness to God is the practical answer to attack. Leave it with Him, and He keeps the heart in quiet confidence.
Blessed be Jehovah; for he hath shewn me wondrously his loving-kindness in a strong city.
Psalm 31 has moved through slander, fear, and the sense of being cut off from God. Here the same voice breaks into praise. Two questions follow: what is this city, and why does God's kindness only come into sight at the end?
A note on wording: the writers quoted below use an older translation. It says "in a strong city" where the ESV says "when I was in a besieged city."
The verse closes a section that runs from verse 19. One writer reads those verses as God's reply to the man who had been pleading.
The closing verses present the answer to the cry of the godly soul. He discovers that however dark the circumstances, the goodness of God is "laid up" for those who fear God. For a time, it seems, men are allowed to have their way. Yet, whatever the outward circumstances, God can keep His people in the secret of His presence. He can protect them from the strife of tongues, and at last show them His marvellous kindness.
So the kindness comes last, but the goodness was in store the whole time.
The city here is a shelter. One writer links it to the "secret place" of the previous verse.
More than this, the secret place is "a strong city" in which the Lord has shown His marvelous kindness (v. 21). The enemy cannot break through the walls of this city. Yet the psalmist had thought for a time that he was cut off from the eyes of the Lord. That fear did not last, for God heard the voice of his pleading (v. 22). In His own time God always triumphs.
Notice what the shelter shuts out: not swords, but tongues.
The praise is honest about what came before it. Another writer notes that faith had faltered on the way.
The goodness of God was only "laid up" for those who fear Him, while as yet they had no experience of it. And those who take refuge in Him are laid up too, held in unseen Arms — hidden from plots and from the whole strife of tongues, walled round as in a fortified city. Sadly, there had been alarm, and unbelief had misread God's silence. Yet He had heard, all the way through.
He was already "laid up" safe while he thought God was silent.
Commentators read this psalm as more than David's own story. One writer hears in it the voice of Christ, and follows the psalm past the cross into resurrection.
But in the darkest hour of that terrible night He calls to mind how He had trusted in God, and He remembered His past mercies. From verse 19 to the end, this is no longer the account of His cry in the hours of Pilate and Calvary. It is the voice of joy and praise for present resurrection. He had now exchanged the grave and dust of death for the power of God in resurrection. And now He also remembers the loving-kindness of the Lord shown to Him in "the strong city," the place where His enemies had joined forces, out of which God had delivered Him.
Read this way, the strong city is where His enemies had joined forces, and God's kindness reached Him there. Commentators differ on this: some take the city as the shelter God gives, others as the enemy stronghold.
One writer puts this praise into the hands of any believer under pressure today.
The effects of God's kindness to His people will be shown fully and gloriously in a day to come. Yet that kindness may be the portion of the individual believer now. In the Psalms David expresses his own appreciation of this precious part of God's dealings with him. Reproached, slandered, persecuted and insulted, he can say in Psalm 31, "Blessed be the LORD; for He has shown me His marvellous kindness."
- Laid up — God's goodness is stored before it is seen; the psalmist has no experience of it yet when the psalm begins.
- Hidden — the shelter is real while it looks like silence; "unbelief had misread God's silence; yet He had heard, all the way through."
- Walled — the secret place is a strong city, and no enemy gets through its walls; what it shuts out is the strife of tongues.
- Shown — the kindness comes last, at the end of the trial, and the cry turns into praise.
- Yours — the same kindness is the portion of the believer now, whatever the reproach and slander.
As for me, I said in my haste, I am cut off from before thine eyes; nevertheless thou heardest the voice of my supplications when I cried unto thee.
The psalm's closing section turns from complaint to confidence. This verse is where the two meet. The psalmist repeats what he once said about God, and then says what God did in reply. The words were hasty; the answer was mercy. So does God stop listening when we stop believing He listens?
The first line is not a settled conclusion. It is a cry forced out of a crushed heart. One writer translates the phrase that way, and links it to a similar outburst in another psalm.
I read verse 22 as "In the pressure of my spirit." The thing was perfectly true, but it was the cry of a crushed spirit, not a claim pressed home with the energy of conviction. So with "I said in my haste" — in the trouble of my spirit, and its shrinking from the evil — "all men are liars" (Psalm 116:11). The sense is the same, and the statement is true as well, but it was speech forced out by pressure on the spirit.
Commentators differ over the word. Some keep "in my haste" and hear a rash slip of the tongue. Others hear the honest speech of a man under pressure, closer to the ESV's "in my alarm".
God's care had not changed. The psalmist's reading of God's silence had.
Alas, there had been alarm, and unbelief had misconstrued God's silence; yet He had heard, all through.
The same point is made about the verses just before this one, where the answer arrives while the darkness is still in place.
Under the pressure of circumstances the soul had said in haste, "I am cut off from before your eyes." Nevertheless, in the time of deepest trial, when God apparently was silent, the voice of his supplications had been heard.
The whole weight of the verse rests on one word. Older translations read "nevertheless" where the ESV has "But". One writer dwells on that word while commenting on the prophet Jonah.
Jonah knew the Book of Psalms well, so he may have had David's words in Psalm 31:22 in mind — but David said this in haste! Oh, that precious "nevertheless"! It is not the way of our God to cast off His saints, however deeply they may fail; but He is always willing to hear the voice of their pleas when they cry.
God's answer does not make the hasty words harmless. The same writer turns the verse into a warning.
But let us beware of speaking in haste. Such utterances are seldom wise. Peter on the holy mount spoke "not knowing what he said" (Luke 9:33). There is "a time to keep silence" as well as "a time to speak" (Ecclesiastes 3:7).
The fear in this verse comes right after a picture of a walled city in verse 21. The psalmist was inside those walls the whole time he felt shut out.
More than this, the secret place is "a strong city" in which the Lord has shown His marvellous kindness (v. 21). The enemy cannot break through the walls of this city, though the psalmist had thought for a time that he was cut off from the eyes of the Lord. But that fear was only brief, for God heard the voice of his pleas (v. 22). In His own time God always triumphs.
One writer reads the darkness of this verse as reaching further than David's own trouble — to the agony of Jesus in Gethsemane, the garden where He prayed before His arrest.
Verse 22 shows the full agony of Gethsemane casting its shadow on the whole psalm. But the circumstances come from outside, and they are felt, as in verses 4, 9, 10 and 11. … The deepest profit, at any rate, is seeing the blessed Lord entering into it.
- Pressure speaks. The words came from a spirit under strain, not from settled conviction — like the outburst "all men are liars" in Psalm 116:11.
- Silence misread. Unbelief took God's quietness as rejection; He had been hearing the whole time.
- Nevertheless stands. God does not cast off His own, however deeply they fail; He is always willing to hear their cry.
- Walls hold. The fear of being shut out came while he was inside a strong city no enemy could enter.
- Guard the tongue. God heard him despite his hasty words, but that is no licence for them — there is a time to keep silence as well as a time to speak.
Love Jehovah, all ye his saints. Jehovah preserveth the faithful, and plentifully requiteth the proud doer.
Psalm 31 ends in a call, not in silence. Slandered and persecuted, the writer turns outward and tells all of God's people what he learned about the God who kept him.
The word behind "saints" describes what a person is toward God.
chasid, "pious toward God," also translated "holy" and "godly." The word occurs often in the Psalms, where God speaks of His saints. Ps. 31:23; Ps. 50:5; Ps. 116:15; Ps. 149:1, 5, 9; etc.
Translators have used several English words for this one Hebrew word. Each says something about the person God calls His own.
The word "holy" is given in the margin as "one whom you favour," and in the Revised Version as "godly." The same word is also translated "saint," "the merciful," and in Micah 7:2, "the good man." The connection is close and beautiful: the graciousness of God, and the graciousness of the heart that by faith knows and delights in Him. But how different is the result in those who do not know Him. The same sun that perfects the beauty of the rooted living flower withers the rootless one.
The call to love comes from a man who had misread God's silence. He found that God had heard him the whole time.
There had been alarm, and unbelief had misread God's silence. Yet He had heard, all through. The unburdened heart breaks out in earliest exhortation, born of that experience … So may the hearts of His own be stirred with the courage of assured victory.
The verse tells people to love God who already love Him. So why give the command at all?
He urges all saints to love the Lord (v. 23). Do they not love Him without being told to? Yes, of course, but the psalmist's heart wants that love to show itself more and more fully. The New Testament tells us, "We love Him because He first loved us" (1 Jn. 4:19), so the more we enjoy His own love for us, the more will our love toward Him be expressed.
The reason for loving Him has two halves: what God does for the faithful, and what He does to the proud.
God preserves the godly and fully delivers them from the pride of those who would oppress them. Those oppressors then find themselves bearing the bitter results of their pride. All of it is under the Lord's gracious control. So it is fitting that believers are told, "Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the Lord" (v. 24). So the Lord gives the victory, and in doing so identifies Himself with His own.
Commentators read this closing call as the voice of Christ Himself, speaking on the other side of death.
On the ground of His resurrection, He calls on all the saints to love the Lord and be of good courage. As He often does, He draws a word of exhortation for them out of His own experience.
Read that way, the verse hands something tested to people still in the middle of the test.
Christ proved the confidence that is due to the LORD. Verse 23 applies its value to the saints in their trial.
David spoke these words while under reproach and slander. Believers today can take them up as their own.
He was reproached, slandered, persecuted and insulted. Yet in Psalm 31 he can say, "Blessed be the LORD; for He has shown me His marvellous kindness." We too know something of the kindness of our God, so we can say with David, "O love the LORD, all you His saints … be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart." The days we live in are full of difficulties and sorrows, and Satan's opposition to the people of God is intense.
- Loved first. A "saint" is someone God has favoured. The graciousness in the heart answers the graciousness in God.
- Loved back. The command is not to start loving but to let existing love grow, because we love Him only because He loved us first.
- Proved. The call comes from a man who thought God was silent and found He had heard all along. It comes from Christ too, who calls out of resurrection.
- Preserved. God keeps the faithful and fully repays the proud who oppress them; one act of care with two faces.
- Passed on. The psalm hands this tested confidence to saints still in trial, so their hearts take courage while the trouble lasts.
Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all ye that hope in Jehovah.
Psalm 31 was written in deep trouble — enemies closing in, slander, and near despair. Yet it ends with a charge, not a plea. The last word is for everyone who waits for the Lord: take heart. Why does that call come last, and where does the strength for it come from?
The final two verses are not an isolated pep talk. One writer follows the psalm to its close and shows what the final charge rests on:
It is a most striking picture in verse 14. He trusts in Jehovah. All that is to happen to him is, after all, in His hand... Confidence in goodness laid up for them is there, and the hiding in God's presence for the time of evil (v. 20). Verse 21 celebrates the faithfulness of Jehovah. Verses 23, 24 encourage the saints by it. So this psalm beautifully brings together all the pleas of the faithful in the most extreme distress.
The man who gives this charge had misread God's silence himself. He does not hide that failure. The call comes out of it:
The goodness of God was only "laid up" for those who fear Him, when as yet there was no experience of it. Those who take refuge in Him are laid up too, held in unseen Arms. They are hidden from conspiracies and the whole strife of tongues, fenced round as in a fortified city. Sadly, there had been alarm, and unbelief had misread God's silence. Yet He had heard, all through. So the unburdened heart breaks out in earnest exhortation, born of this experience... So may the hearts of His own be animated with the courage of assured victory.
Verse 23 calls the godly to love the Lord. Verse 24 calls them to take courage. One commentator ties both to God's control of the outcome:
Therefore, he urges all saints to love the Lord (v. 23). Do they not love Him without being told to? Yes, of course, but the heart of the psalmist clearly wants that love to express itself more and more fully... The Lord preserves the godly and fully delivers them from the pride of those who would oppress them, and the proud then bear the bitter results of their pride. The Lord has brought all under His gracious control. So it is fitting that believers hear the call to take courage, with the promise that He will strengthen the heart of all who hope in Him (v. 24). So the Lord gives the victory, and in doing so identifies Himself with His own.
The courage commanded here is not natural toughness. One writer draws the line:
We are not stoics. God has given His children hearts that can feel. They are often, and should always be, more sensitive than people of the world. So it is no relief to them to say, "This kind of thing happens to everyone; we must grit our teeth and bear it." I have no fault to find with natural courage, but we who know God have more than that. Natural courage on its own could not carry us through. We may have God with us in every trial and the sure prospect of coming out of it with real spiritual gain. So help from above and hope for the future give the heart a buoyancy in the trial that nothing else can give.
Another writer sets the verse next to the armour God gives for spiritual conflict:
Then there is "The Shield of Faith," the awareness that God is for us, what Israel never seems to have had in the wilderness. Fear will not drain the colour from the face of anyone who is sure that God is always on our side, and that He will never fail us. The coward heart can win no battle. He is no coward who puts his trust in God. The word to us is "Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the LORD!" (Ps. 31:24).
The promise belongs to those who wait for the Lord — older translations read "hope in the LORD." One commentator applies the closing words to people still waiting, and mocked for it:
Its closing words are very precious to those who know what it is to keep, amid the scoffing of this last time, the attitude of patient waiting for the Lord. He will strengthen the hearts of those who look for Him; He will surely come and will not delay.
- Distress first. The call to courage closes a psalm full of alarm, slander and misread silence. A man who had lived through it speaks it, not a man above it.
- Faithfulness proved. Verses 20–21 celebrate goodness laid up and the faithfulness of the Lord. Verses 23–24 hand that proven faithfulness to everyone else as a reason to take heart.
- Strength given. The courage commanded is not gritted teeth. It is help from above, and it lifts the heart as nothing else can.
- Hope waits. The promise goes to those who wait for the Lord. He strengthens the hearts of all who look for Him, and He will not delay.
- Victory shared. The Lord gives the victory and identifies Himself with His own. A coward heart wins no battle, and no one who trusts God is a coward.
(Of David. Instruction.) Blessed is he [whose] transgression is forgiven, [whose] sin is covered!
Psalm 32 is David's own song after sin, and it opens not with a rule to keep but with a blessing pronounced over a guilty man. The verse raises three questions. What does "blessed" mean? What does it mean for sin to be "covered"? And how can a guilty man be called happy?
One writer traces the opening word back to its root idea and applies it to eternity as well as to now.
What do we understand by being "blessed"? The main idea of the word is "prosperous." A prosperous man before God knows his sins, and finds the answer to them in God. Happiness marks such a man. Look at man for eternity, and not only for this life: no man is so prosperous as the one who says, "I have nothing but sin in myself, but all my rest is in God." That man has something to sing about. Whichever way he turns, he finds some fresh note of gladness and joy in it.
One writer points out that David wrote about this blessing as a man who had tasted it himself:
David, the guilty sinner once, is now the object of mercy. He knows he is forgiven, and can write of "the blessedness of the man to whom God imputes righteousness without works" (Rom. 4:6). He tasted this blessedness. It was his own real experience.
Read carefully, the verse says nothing about a clean record. It describes a man whose record was bad and has been dealt with.
In the psalm before us (Ps. 32), we get the blessedness of, and God's dealings with, the sinner whose transgressions are removed. "Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered [not the one who has not transgressed, who has not sinned]. Blessed is the man against whom the LORD counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit" (that is, the restored soul).
The verse uses two different words, and they are not repetition. One describes what a person did; the other describes what a person is.
"Transgression forgiven" — "sin covered." Transgression is quite different from sin. Transgression is when a person has wandered from a marked path; sin is the principle of self-willed independence in the heart of man. David found both of these things in himself, and they did not suit the heart of a creature in the presence of God. As soon as he had them forgiven and covered, he could see what prosperity it was: he could sing of all his wanderings as tied to the God who had forgiven them.
The word "covered" carries a fixed Old Testament meaning, and its picture goes back to the first pages of the Bible.
Here we have the great Old Testament thought about God's dealing with sin in forgiving mercy. It first appears in Genesis 3:21. Adam and Eve tried to cover their sinful nakedness from God's presence with fig-leaf aprons of their own making, but it did not work. So God Himself covered them with coats of skins — and such coats meant the death of a victim… So the meaning of the word "atonement" is clear: the covering of sin by sacrifice.
When God covers sin, He settles it for good:
"Covered" points back to the covering on the mercy seat. God puts sins away and remembers them no more.
The blessing does not depend on a man's record. One writer presses this home with David himself:
No man in the Old Testament records fell lower than David in his sins against God and man. Yet we learn that his sins did not exclude him from the blessing… It is a blessing into which the works of the best man cannot bring him, and from which the sins of the worst man need not exclude him. It is all of God and from God. It binds the heart of the sinner who receives it in everlasting gratitude to the gracious Giver.
Paul also says more than David could say:
David stood in the dim light of pictures and prophecies. He could only take comfort from the negative side: the Lord will NOT impute sin to the believer. Paul stands in the full light of the redemptive work of Christ, and gives us the comfort of the positive side: "God imputes RIGHTEOUSNESS without works."
Forgiveness like this changes how a person comes to God:
Full absolute forgiveness, the not imputing sin at all, is what takes guile from the heart. Otherwise we run from God. We make excuses and play our sin down, even when we dare not call it right. Where full pardon is before us, we have courage to be true in heart. Who will not list all his debts when the only question is that someone else will pay them? Who will not tell his illness when the cure is certain?
- Blessed — the word means prosperous. The richest person alive is the one who has nothing but sin in himself, and all his rest in God.
- Forgiven — the blessing rests on a man who did transgress and did sin, not on one who never did.
- Covered — the word behind it is atonement: sin covered by sacrifice, put away and remembered no more.
- Not imputed — David could say that God does not charge sin to him. Paul adds the positive side: God credits righteousness without works.
- Guileless — full pardon ends pretending. Nobody hides a debt when someone else has agreed to pay it.
Blessed is the man unto whom Jehovah reckoneth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile!
Psalm 32 does not describe the happiness of a man who never sinned. It describes a man whose sin God refuses to charge against him. Two things stand together in this verse: what God will not put on the account, and what is no longer in the man's spirit.
The blessing here is announced over a sinner. It describes how God deals with a man whose transgressions He has removed.
In this psalm (Ps. 32) we see the blessedness of the sinner whose transgressions are removed, and God's dealings with him — not the man who has not transgressed, who has not sinned, but the restored soul.
To impute is to charge something to a person's account. This verse settles how much God leaves off that account, and what that does to a man's heart.
The phrase is absolute and general — "to whom Jehovah imputes not iniquity." It is the whole condition of the person. It is not that his iniquity or some particular fault is forgiven, though certainly that is true as well. It is absolute non-imputation of any. The man exists before God as having no sin, according to the judgment of God. Then my heart is open and free before God. I know this, and I look up to God as owning no sin, sure that He sees none. So there is no cloud, nothing to hide.
The verse says God does not count the iniquity; it does not say where the iniquity went. Commentators point to the cross for the answer, and to what God counts instead.
There was no denying David's dreadful guilt, yet the Lord in marvellous grace did not impute iniquity to him (v. 2). The only way this could be true was by the Lord Jesus bearing that iniquity in His great sacrifice. Elsewhere we read that instead of imputing iniquity to believers, God imputes righteousness to all "who believe in Him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord" (Rom. 4:22-25).
If sin is not counted, the question naturally follows: what about the sins committed after a person is forgiven? One writer separates God's discipline from God's reckoning.
It is a wonderful thing for anyone to be able to say, "Thank God, there is one thing God will not do: He will not impute sin to me. I know I have sinned badly, even since I was converted... He may take me in hand and use the rod to correct me, but He will not impute sin to me." Our failure will never damage the relationship God has established between us and Himself, because He has established it in Christ. So until sin can be imputed to Christ, it cannot be imputed to the believer.
The second half of the verse names something else: deceit, which older translations call "guile." It is not the sin itself but the cover-up.
"In whose spirit there is no guile." (v. 2.) Guile has nothing to do with guilt. Guilt is the condition of a man who has sinned and has not found an answer to his sin. Guile is pretending. While David was trying to patch himself up, he was forgetting that his sin was out in the open before his people. Think of it: he tried to stand before God as a creature who was not ruined, when he, the man after God's own heart, had taken the place of a model sinner! It would not do. God says, "I know all the iniquity, but I do not impute it."
The two halves of the verse are linked, and the link runs in a direction most people would not expect: honesty is the fruit of grace, not its price.
Happy then, again, is the man to whom Jehovah imputes no iniquity — or "perversity," which is what the word means. This stands in direct connection with what follows: that in his spirit there is now no longer "guile," which is perversity. The second is the effect of the first. The non-imputation is the moral remedy. Grace sets the soul right. It enables the soul to judge sin honestly, and wins it to God, so parting it from that perversity.
Jesus once used almost these words of a man named Nathanael, when He saw him under a fig tree.
And Nathanael's "guilelessness" was the guilelessness of this Psalm, I believe, and not of mere natural disposition. (John 1:47) He had been under the fig tree in the spirit of this Psalm, as a convicted man pouring out his heart. That had freed his spirit from guile. Here we learn that a confessing spirit is a guileless spirit.
- Nothing denied. The blessing belongs to a sinner, not to a man with a clean record. The sin is real, and God covers it.
- Nothing charged. God does not pardon one fault at a time. He counts no iniquity at all, because Christ bore it.
- Nothing hidden. Guile is the cover-up, not the crime. Where a man owns his sin, the pretending stops.
- Nothing earned. Honesty is the effect of grace, not its price. God's refusal to count sin sets the soul right and wins it to Him.
- Nothing to fear. God may use the rod to correct His children, but He will never put sin to their account.
When I kept silence, my bones waxed old, through my groaning all the day long.
David looks back here at a time when he said nothing about his sin. The verse is his own report of what that silence cost him, in his body and in his soul.
This psalm has a name for hiding sin: guile. Older translations read "roaring" in verse 3 where the ESV has "groaning". One writer shows how the two are linked:
It is also a very miserable business. Guile only leads to groaning — for that is what the word "roaring" in verse 3 really means. In David's case the groaning came quickly. God laid His heavy hand of discipline on him by day and by night, and it withered him. It is a bad sign when guilt and guile bring no groaning. That means the sinner has stopped feeling, and perhaps that God is putting off His dealings until the coming day of reckoning. It is a happy thing when the groaning follows soon.
The same writer traces the habit of hiding back to the first man and woman:
Next comes guile. This means deceit, hypocrisy, lack of straightforwardness and honesty. It always follows guilt, always has done so from the beginning, as Genesis 3 bears witness. The moment the first man and woman became guilty, they tried to hide from God and to put the blame on someone else. Every soul of man does just the same. It is a deeply rooted instinct of our fallen race.
David does not describe a mood. He describes his skeleton aging. One writer sets the wasting bones against a struggle David would not end:
But the psalmist is not content just to declare how blessed grace is. He goes on to tell us how he reached this blessing — where grace met him and conquered him, after he had stubbornly resisted it. He tells us of the conviction that pressed on him to confession, and he would not confess. He kept silent. Yet deep in his soul he was roaring because of the turmoil, until his very bones, the most solid parts of the body, wasted away under the struggle.
David's crown gave him cover with people. It gave him none with God:
But David had been guilty of serious deceit, and refers to this in verse 3. He had kept silent, not confessing his sin to God; but God laid on his heart a virtually unbearable burden. How could his conscience rest when he had been guilty of adultery and murder? Being king, he could escape this disgrace before the people, but he could not avoid having to do with God. He felt his bones, the very framework of his body, growing old through his long, drawn-out groaning.
The pressure is God's own work, and it has an aim:
It is important to notice the work of the Spirit of God in what this soul goes through. God deals with a soul that will not submit itself fully. He brings it down into full subjection and confession. This is always the case, if the Lord's hand is on a man, until he owns the evil before God. Then comes forgiveness of the iniquity.
Meanwhile the silence brings no peace, only distance:
Oh, how true that is of a soul. Confession alone can remove this pressure. Under it there is a gnawing and a dissatisfaction, and a holding back and a distance too. You cannot help feeling it, and it is almost unbearable until confession clears away the dark cloud.
One writer argues that people tell the whole truth only when they know full pardon is on offer:
Full, absolute forgiveness — the not imputing sin at all — is what takes guile from the heart. Otherwise we run from God. We make excuses, or play the sin down, if we dare not defend it. Where full pardon is before us, we have courage to be true in heart. Who will not declare all his debts when their discharge by another is the only thing in question? Who will not tell his illness when a certain cure is available? Grace brings truth into the heart it has brought to confess its transgressions.
- Guilt breeds guile. Hiding is the oldest human reflex after sin, and silence before God is not neutral — it is deceit wearing a calm face.
- Guile breeds groaning. David's hidden sin aged his bones and drained his strength. A conscience that feels nothing is in worse danger than one that aches.
- Groaning is God's hand. The heavy hand is discipline, not abandonment. It lasts until the man owns the evil before God.
- No position exempts you. A king could manage his reputation before the people, but he could not avoid having to do with God.
- Grace ends the silence. Full forgiveness gives a person the courage to be honest. You declare your debts when someone else is paying them.
For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me; my moisture was turned into the drought of summer. Selah.
Psalm 32 is David's own account of what happened inside him after he sinned and said nothing about it. Verse 4 describes that silence — a hand pressing down without pause, a man drying up under it, and one question: whose hand was it?
Hiding sin does not bring peace. It brings groaning, and a body worn down under God's discipline.
Hiding sin is also a miserable business. Guile only leads to groaning — that is what the word "roaring" in verse 3 really means. In David's case the groaning came quickly. God laid His heavy hand of discipline on him by day and by night, and he withered under it. He says it vividly: "my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer." It is a bad sign when guilt and guile are not followed by groaning. That means the sinner has gone numb, and perhaps that God is holding back His dealings until the coming day of reckoning. It is a good thing when the groaning comes quickly.
(An older translation reads "my moisture is turned into the drought of summer.")
David's rank let him manage the public story. It did nothing for him at night.
He had kept silent, not confessing his sin to God; but God laid on his heart a virtually unbearable burden. How could his conscience rest when he had been guilty of adultery and murder? Being king, he could slip out of this stigma before the people, but he could not escape dealing with God. His bones, the very framework of his body, felt like they were growing old through his long, drawn-out groaning. Both day and night he felt God's hand laid heavily on him (v. 4), so that his strength was dried up as "the drought of summer."
The pressure was not random misfortune. It was God working on a soul that would not yet bend.
It is important to notice the work of the Spirit of God in the process the soul is going through here. The verse says, "Your hand was heavy upon me." These are God's dealings with a soul that does not fully submit, bringing it down into full subjection and confession… This is always true. If the Lord's hand is on a man, it stays there until he recognises the evil before God. Then there is forgiveness of the iniquity.
Something inside David was still alive to God, even while his mouth stayed shut.
He takes the sentence of death in himself. Death inside was eating him away like a moth eating a garment. He had no strength of grace yet to confess the sin, but the life inside him still felt the wound it had received. His spirit felt the grief it had been put through. Yet David kept silent and did not tell out his shame, because guile was still in his spirit.
The pressing did not stop at a partial admission. It went on until everything was out in the open.
The moment a sinner is in his true place before God, the whole question is settled. As soon as his real character is fully out in the open, there is no further difficulty. He may have to pass through much painful exercise before he reaches that point This painful exercise comes from his refusal to take his true place — his refusal to bring out "all the truth" about what he is. But the moment he is brought to say, from his heart, "just as I am," the free grace of God flows down to him… How long did the exercise last? Until the whole truth came out — until everything working inside him came to the surface.
Read on its own, verse 4 sounds like abandonment. Read to the end of the psalm, the same hand that dried him up is the hand that brought him to speak.
"When I kept silence," said David, "my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me [wonderful, faithful love!]… I acknowledged my sin to You, and I did not cover my iniquity. I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,' and You forgave the iniquity of my sin." What matchless grace, that answers at once this open confession of the truth before God. No — it is the grace of God that brings the heart to confess the sins, and then that same grace forgives.
- Silence. Hiding sin breeds guile, and guile only leads to groaning — the "roaring" of verse 3 is the sound of a man in pain.
- Weight. The hand pressing day and night is God's own hand at work on a soul that will not yet submit. It presses until there is full subjection and confession.
- Dryness. A king could hide the scandal from his people, but not from God. His bones wasted away and his strength dried up like land in summer heat.
- Duration. The pressure lasts until the whole truth surfaces — not a partial admission, but "just as I am" said from the heart.
- Love. The heavy hand is faithful love at work. The grace that brings the heart to confess is the same grace that forgives.
I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity I covered not; I said, I will confess my transgressions unto Jehovah, and *thou* forgavest the iniquity of my sin. Selah.
David had kept silent about his sin. Verse 5 is the moment the silence breaks. Everything turns on one exchange: David stops hiding, and God forgives.
David does not use one word for his wrong but three. One writer explains two of them.
"Transgression" (not sin) means breaking a law that is known and laid down. This is where the psalmist begins. It is the first thing that would touch the conscience of a Jew, and what a blessing to know it is "forgiven." … "Sin" is then the evil root. God brings it to light in the conscience so that He may "cover" it by the blood of atonement, as here.
This is not a general prayer. David had done something for which Israel's law provided no sacrifice.
David did not do this until God sent the prophet Nathan to him. Nathan told him a story about a rich man who had mistreated a poor man, and David pronounced the sentence of death on that man. Then Nathan said, "You are the man!" So David knew that justice demanded his death, and he broke down in sober confession before God. Israel had no sacrifice provided for such a sin, as David hints in Psalm 51:16. Cast only on the mercy of God, he says, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." So he could say with full confidence, "You forgave the iniquity of my sin." The word "Selah" is added again, so that we will pause and consider the marvel of God's grace in His full and free forgiveness of a repentant sinner.
Verse 5 shows what confession actually costs — and where it has to be directed.
The iniquity that a man hid with the greatest care must be dragged into the light of God's presence. He must confess his transgressions not to man merely, or first of all, but "to the Lord." This, you see, is the exact opposite of deceit. It completely reverses the old attitude and gives up all deceit and hypocrisy. It is straightforwardness and honesty in the sight of God.
So which came first here — David's honesty, or God's grace?
Matchless grace this, that responds at once to this open confession of the truth before God. No — it is the grace of God that brings the heart to the confession of the sins, and then that same grace forgives.
Read the line carefully: David says he decided to confess, and God had already forgiven. One writer notices that the sentence never quite reaches the act.
How quick this mercy is! It reminds us of the Lord's picture of His Father's love to the son who came home after wasting everything. Not even, "I did confess, and You forgave," but the forgiveness comes before the confession itself. It is like that son. Far from his father, he turned to him in his need with his words ready, asking only for a servant's place — and found his father's kiss arriving ahead of the confession.
Full forgiveness did not mean nothing more would follow. One writer keeps the two things apart, and lets neither cancel the other.
How was David's confession met? By the clear and ready response of that free grace in which our God always delights: "The LORD also has put away your sin." This was absolute grace. God fully forgave David's sin. There can be no question about this. But even as the soothing words of grace fell on David's ears at his confession, the solemn wheels of God's government were already turning in the distance.
David could not have explained how God could forgive him and still be just. One writer points to where the answer lies.
With the sacrificial work of Christ in view, God was able to forgive sinners of an earlier age long before that work took place. This is taught in Romans 3:25 and in Psalm 32:5. When David confessed his sin to God, he made use of this great benefit. He could not yet know the glorious plan of redemption in the mind and heart of God.
- Cover — David had hidden his sin away with the greatest care.
- Uncover — He stopped hiding and named it to God: no excuse, no softening, no going first to men.
- Covered — What David refused to cover, God covered, by the blood of atonement.
- Ahead — Pardon met the decision to confess, like a father's kiss arriving before the son finished speaking.
- After — The forgiveness was complete. Yet the wheels of God's government still turned. Grace and God's governing hand are two different things.
For this shall every one that is godly pray unto thee at a time when thou mayest be found surely in the floods of great waters they will not reach him.
David has just told how he stopped hiding his sin, confessed it, and found forgiveness. Verse 6 turns that private story outward: God forgives, so every godly person has a reason to pray, a time to pray, and a shelter when the floods come.
The verse opens by pointing back. What David has learned about God is what draws others to Him. God showing Himself this way makes the moment a time of finding.
This revelation of God stirs the thought and feeling of all who are upright and gracious-minded. It makes them look to God at the time when He reveals Himself as the forgiving God, when He can be found... Suppose they have no sense of sin at that moment. They know they are sinners, and God reveals Himself like this: His character is their delight, and their soul links itself with Him. They seek Him, not simply for forgiveness... and note, God acting like this, revealed like this, makes the time the finding time.
The word could sound like a class of superior people. In the psalm it does the opposite: it takes in everyone.
This is not all. We soon find that this mercy was no special case for David. And no one can do without such a confession, and such mercy as this psalm shows. No — "therefore let everyone who is godly offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found." So the person who has never known this way of drawing near to God is not godly but ungodly! Such is the need of grace on the part of all.
Notice how this prayer starts. It is not a cry flung into the dark. It is asking from a settled footing.
The godly man is the sinner who knows God in grace. He finds Him in the acceptable day of salvation. So he prays with calm assurance that God hears him, not vaguely. He prays to One who has already prompted that prayer by revealing Himself as the Saviour who justifies the ungodly in his worst hour of need (Rom. 4:5). Mercy received is the proper groundwork of true Christian prayer... Do not confuse the cry of distress from a heart that does not yet know peace with true prayer. God answers such a cry readily and graciously, with His full testimony of peace and forgiveness in the gospel of His Son.
The phrase carries a warning inside a promise. If there is a time when God may be found, there is also a time when He may not.
The results of knowing God as a forgiving God follow. Because God is a forgiving God, the godly can always turn to Him in confidence, at a time when He can be found. There is a time coming when men will seek God but He will not be found. Today is the acceptable time when, on the ground of Christ's work, He may be found. But grace rejected will lead to judgment, when God will no longer be found by men, but men will be found out by God.
The second half of the verse recalls Noah's ark. Water covered everything, but it could not get in where God had shut people in.
The "rush of great waters" that we are now warned about reminds us of the ark, and of the only people the Lord saved when He shut them in. No flood could reach them, while no others could escape it. Jehovah had acted for them, so all the power of His arm and all the glory of His Name stood between those inside and the flood, pledged for their security. So He was truly their hiding place. Could any flood break through such a barrier? Now we know Christ as the fulfilment of this ark. The storms beat on Him and the floods raged, but this glorious Refuge has carried His full cargo of blessing safely to shore. So the soul in Christ can say this in triumph.
The promise is not that trouble stays away. It is being kept safe while the flood breaks in. Darby reads the psalm this way for the godly few in Israel.
Israel, the Jews, have been deeply guilty in every way. God holds out forgiveness, as in this psalm and everywhere in Moses and the prophets. They feel it; God reveals Himself like this; the godly remnant are touched by it. Sins, no doubt, are confessed, but the heart of the godly turns to God. When the flood of judgments breaks in, God preserves them. In every case, the soul that knows this goodness can count on God. God Himself, known like this, is its hiding place. In the end, songs of deliverance will be its portion.
- Cause. "Therefore" ties the verse to verse 5. God shown as forgiving draws the heart, and that is what makes the moment a time of finding.
- Found. The window is open today. Refuse the grace offered, and God will find those men out instead.
- Every. Forgiveness was no special favour to David. Anyone who has never come this way is not among the godly, and everyone needs the same grace.
- Ground. This prayer rests on mercy already received. The godly ask with calm assurance, not with a vague hope.
- Flood. Like those shut inside the ark, the sheltered stay beyond the water's reach. God Himself is their hiding place, and songs of deliverance are their portion.
Thou art a hiding-place for me; thou preservest me from trouble; thou dost encompass me with songs of deliverance. Selah.
Psalm 32 opens with the joy of a man whose sin is covered and never counted against him. By verse 7 he has found more than pardon: God Himself has become his hiding place, and fear has turned into refuge.
The instinct of a guilty conscience is to get away from God. David does the opposite. He runs into the presence he once dreaded. One writer contrasts him with everyone who tries to hide sin from God:
How awful the contrast with Israel's own sweet singer, who, despite his sins, could say by grace, "You are a hiding place for me!" — hiding in God, not from Him. He had before him One who could and would cover all his sins and count nothing against him. Our effort to cover our sins, or to escape from His presence, is useless indeed.
The same searching light that a guilty person dreads becomes the safest place there is once sin has been confessed. As another writer puts it, when a person is genuinely open before God, the light that will terrify the unrepentant "is already the hiding-place and fortress of the saint."
Verse 7 comes at the end of a fight. The man held out for a long time, found no rest, and only then owned his sin:
For a long time he had fought against this, but the Lord gave him no rest. Then he confesses his sin, and deceit is gone from his heart — impossible until then. We hide sin in the heart. Forgiveness in grace draws the godly man to God. When the great waters flood, they do not reach him. The Lord is the hiding place of the soul — He preserves, blesses, guides.
Full and absolute forgiveness — God not counting sin against us at all — is what takes the deceit out of the heart. Otherwise we run from God: we make excuses and play down our sin, even when we dare not call it right.
Pardon is not the end of it. God also shelters the person He forgives — even from himself:
God does not just forgive a sinner and leave him to himself. Instead, God becomes a sanctuary where a person can find refuge from himself and his sinful tendencies. He also finds God's presence a wonderful protection from the flood of great waters — the judgment that man's sin naturally brings on him.
Notice what the verse does not promise: an easy life. The storms did not stop. What changed was the man's relationship to God in the middle of them.
As soon as he was right with God the whole picture changed. Instead of being the object of his fear, God became the object of his confidence. He knew how to find God, and how to pray to Him. He discovered that God was his hiding place. There he would find refuge and protection when the storms and floods and troubles of this life threatened him. His sin had been dealt with, but the troubles remained.
The promise holds even when nothing outward changes:
Our circumstances may not change. Our sorrows may not be taken away. But if we bring Christ into our grief, we will be able to say with the psalmist: "you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance" (Ps. 32:7).
The last phrase sounds as if the rescued man does all the singing. One writer points out what marks this deliverance out from everything the psalm has said so far:
Something appears here with deliverance that makes it quite exceptional. Up to that point the psalm says not a word about God's feelings. The soul itself is happy, of course, once the burden of guilt is gone. But here we read of His happiness: "You surround me with songs of deliverance." God's joy gives its character to the blessings granted in deliverance. The soul rejoices in this too.
This writer is using an older translation. Where he reads "songs of deliverance," the ESV reads "shouts of deliverance."
The verse ends with a word left untranslated. It is a direction to the reader, not part of the sentence.
The word Selah occurs 71 times in the Psalms. It means "to pause," with a secondary meaning of "lift up." We can take it as a sign. As we read, we should pause, think, and then lift up our hearts in praise and prayer.
- Confess — Fighting God brought no rest. Honest confession cleared the deceit out of the heart and opened the way in.
- Hide — Flight reverses direction: not away from God, but into Him — "hiding in God, not from Him."
- Rest — God becomes a sanctuary, not just a pardon; He does not forgive and then leave a person to himself.
- Endure — The sin was dealt with, but the troubles remained. What changed is that God became the object of confidence instead of fear.
- Sing — The surrounding song is God's own joy over the delivered, and "Selah" asks us to stop and take that in.
I will instruct thee and teach thee the way in which thou shalt go; I will counsel [thee] with mine eye upon thee.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Be ye not as a horse, as a mule, which have no understanding whose trappings must be bit and bridle, for restraint, or they will not come unto thee.
Verse 8 promises God's guidance, and verse 9 warns that He can also lead a person the way a rider leads a stubborn animal. So the question is what we will be under His hand — a creature that reads a look, or one that needs a bit in its mouth.
The picture uses two animals, and they fail in opposite ways.
If we lack in this discernment, is it not because we are like the horse or the mule? (v. 9). They need a bit and bridle to control them. The horse may be too eager to rush forward, and the mule too stubborn to move when it should. So we may too easily lean on our own instincts, either too forward or too backward, instead of depending on the Lord.
Translators render the closing clause in more than one way:
But on our side, we must never assume that we have the spiritual understanding that lets us profit from the guidance He gives. We may well be just like a horse or a mule. Another rendering of the verse is, "whose trappings must be bit and bridle, for restraint, or they will not come to you." A bit and bridle are always uncomfortable and sometimes painful. The horse is often pulled up with a nasty jerk, but that is because it does not understand its master's thoughts.
Verses 8 and 9 set out two methods, and the difference between them is the state of our will. (The quote below uses an older wording of verse 8; the ESV reads, "I will counsel you with My eye upon you.")
The Lord guides us — or rather controls us — in another way, by the circumstances He arranges, so that we may not go wrong, even though we have no understanding. And we should be thankful that He does. But this is only how you treat a horse or a mule. If your will is subject to Mine, He says, "I will guide you with My eye" — but if you are not subject, I must hold you in with "bit and bridle." That is clearly a very different thing.
Many people treat shifting circumstances as God's main way of showing them the road. Commentators warn that this is not the same as being guided by God.
Whoever lets circumstances guide him always acts in the dark about the will of God. There is nothing moral in it; it is an outside force that pushes him along... The point is not to let circumstances direct you, but to let God direct you in them. That means staying near enough to God to judge at once what you should do, as soon as the circumstances arise.
Another writer puts the loss in a picture:
A Christian so guided is like a vessel at sea without rudder or compass; she is at the mercy of the waves and the winds.
The bit is not God's first choice. It becomes necessary where our own will is still at work.
Now we are often like the horse, or the mule, every one of us — and this, because our souls have not been ploughed up. When there is anything in which the will of man is at work, the Lord deals with us, as with the horse or the mule, holding us in. When every part of the heart is in contact with Himself, He guides us with His "eye."
When the bridle does come, it is mercy, not abandonment. One writer sees it in David's own life:
Among these reefs he would certainly have gone down if God had left him to his own strength. So God, no longer able to lead him by His eye, used the "bit and bridle" of Psalm 32:9 — a series of circumstances that went against the will of His servant — to keep him from a fall he could never undo.
The warning has a goal behind it, and it is not a tighter rein.
And how many of God's people have lives so little yielded to Him that circumstances must govern them, instead of the eye of God. His desire for us is not the drudgery of a stopped will, but the freedom of a changed one.
- The offer. God's first method is a look. He counsels the one who stays near enough to catch it.
- The warning. The horse rushes ahead, the mule will not move. Both run on instinct instead of dependence, so both need a bit in the mouth.
- The downgrade. Guidance by circumstances is that bit. It is real, but it works from outside and leaves you in the dark.
- The cause. God reaches for the bit where our own will is still at work. He guides a heart wholly in touch with Him by His eye.
- The mercy. Even the bridle is kindness — it held David back from ruin — but God's desire is not a stopped will, it is a changed one.
Many sorrows hath the wicked; but he that confideth in Jehovah, loving-kindness shall encompass him.
Psalm 32 opens with the joy of forgiven sin and God's promise to guide His people. Near its end it sets two lives side by side: why does sorrow fill one and mercy surround the other?
One writer counts three great themes in this psalm. The third arrives only near the end.
Before we reach the end of Psalm 32 we find mention of a third great theme — the government of God... We are not allowed to forget that God is the moral Governor of the universe. He has so ordered things that men reap what they sow even in this life. This has always been true, and it is true today. Changing ages do not affect how it works. It applies to the men of the world, and it applies in a special way to God's people. It often seems as if the man of the world escapes God's government in this life. But that is because he is travelling on to final judgment, and the crash comes then.
The verse gives the normal pattern, not a rule without exceptions. The same writer explains why three more psalms follow.
As a general rule, however, it is the wicked who practise evil and reap many sorrows as a result. And it is the godly man who trusts in the Lord, and who as a result has mercy all around him. That is what verse 10 states. It is the normal thing. Still, we live in an order of things where the abnormal often wins. So, as God's government works out, we find many complications. That is why the matter needs much fuller working out in the three psalms that follow.
One writer traces the psalm's flow: confession brings forgiveness, forgiveness brings guidance, and guidance ends in mercy all around.
All was brought out — Jehovah's only object was to bring the man to integrity of heart and truth. When confession produces this, all is forgiven... Then God guides in the way. So, because of this mercy and forgiveness, the godly come in an acceptable time. God keeps them safe in the great floods of water... In short, mercy shall surround the righteous.
A clean record is not what marks off the second group. Even in a psalm all about pardon, the same writer keeps that difference in plain view.
Notice here that forgiveness is celebrated, and the faithful remnant will need it badly. Yet the great truth that separates them from the mass of the people is still kept clear — trust, righteousness, and integrity of heart. To the wicked there are sorrows.
God does not promise the believer a life without sorrow. He promises mercy that goes all the way round him.
The wicked's life results in many sorrows (v. 10). The godly may have trial and sorrow, but God tempers it wonderfully with the great joy He gives even at times of deepest distress. We may sorrow, but not like those who have no hope. Nothing can relieve their sorrows unless they turn in faith to the Lord Jesus... It is good to know that mercy always surrounds us. It guards us from the deceitful attacks of the enemy. Indeed, His mercy protects us in the measure that we trust the Lord. So simple faith in Him brings wonderful results.
Mercy surrounds the man who walks the way God marks out for him. Another writer links this to prayer and God's watchful guidance.
Furthermore, the one who prays to God finds not only preservation, but guidance for the way. God guides in His way and with His eye upon us as One who is deeply interested in His people. Moreover God gives understanding of His mind. So we should not be like the horse or mule, which has no understanding. They are guided, but with no intelligence of their own. If we walk in the way that God would have us tread, mercy will surround us. And uprightness of heart will lead to gladness in the Lord and joy.
The same writer marks out two kinds of forgiveness. One settles a sinner's standing for ever. The other belongs to God's dealings with His own people in this life.
As Christians we know that this principle rests on the death of Christ — the precious blood. It holds true for eternal forgiveness, when a sinner draws near to God. It holds true for governmental forgiveness too, when a failing child draws near to the Father.
- Government. After grace and guidance, the psalm adds a third theme. God rules the world as its moral Governor, and people reap what they sow in this life.
- Rule. This is the normal pattern, not an unbroken one. The exceptions are real, and three more psalms take them up.
- Trust. A clean record is not what divides the two groups. Trust, righteousness and integrity of heart do, and forgiveness never blurs that line.
- Mercy. Believers still meet sorrow, but mercy rings them round. God protects them in the measure that they trust Him.
- Walk. Mercy surrounds the one who follows with understanding, not the one driven like a horse or mule. That road ends in gladness and joy.
Rejoice in Jehovah, and be glad, ye righteous; and shout for joy, all ye upright in heart.
Psalm 32 opens with a man who confesses his sins and is forgiven, and it closes with a call to shout for joy. That joy is not a mood but a result, and the call goes to two kinds of people who need explaining: "the righteous" and "the upright in heart."
The psalm moves in stages, and joy stands at the end as the result of the whole.
So we may well respond to this sweet invitation: "Be glad in the LORD, and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart!" (v. 11). So the psalm begins with the assurance of forgiveness. Then it adds the assurance that God preserves the believer from trouble and teaches him the way he should go. The deepest joy is the result.
The word does not mean people with a clean record. It fits the man who wrote this psalm. David's sins were as bad as any recorded in the Old Testament, and God still counted him righteous.
Nothing is said of David's works; instead, he spoke of his iniquities and his sins. No man in the Old Testament records fell lower than David in his sins against God and man. Yet we learn that his sins did not exclude him from the blessing. For he describes the blessedness of the man to whom God counts righteousness without works... True, God produced in his soul repentance for those sins and faith in a pardoning God. His sins were ten thousand times more serious, because he knew God's mercy. But this chapter brings in his case to show that even these did not exclude him from the blessing of justification. The works of the best man cannot bring him into this blessing, and the sins of the worst man need not shut him out of it.
"Upright in heart" describes a person with no deceit inside. That honesty is not the price of pardon. Full pardon is what creates it.
Let us take to heart the great principle of this psalm. Full, absolute forgiveness — the not imputing sin at all — is what takes deceit out of the heart. Otherwise we run from God, we make excuses, we soften things, even if we do not dare to justify ourselves. Where full pardon is set before us, we have the courage to be true in heart. Who will not declare all his debts when the only question is that someone else will pay them? Who will not tell his illness when the cure is certain? Grace brings truth into the heart that is brought to confess its wrongdoing. He finds all the burden of his sins gone.
Gladness always has an object, and this verse names one.
Psalm 32. "Be glad," not in the forgiveness, but "in the LORD."
That distinction turns relief into worship. That worship rests on something already finished.
What should be the mark of the worship of the heavenly sanctuary? Surely praise — praise for accomplished redemption. And this sacrifice will not be missing, if our souls take in our heavenly portion. None who really worship in that sanctuary may hold back their tribute of praise... Eternal redemption is the solid basis on which all such joy rests. That redemption is found in the perfect work of Jesus — the work He Himself always presents on our behalf in heaven. "Be glad in the LORD, and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart!"
Verse 10 sets many sorrows for the wicked against surrounding mercy for the one who trusts. The gladness commanded in verse 11 is therefore not the absence of trouble.
The result of the life of the wicked is "many sorrows" (v. 10). The godly may have trial and sorrow. Yet God gives exceeding joy even at times of deepest distress, and this wonderfully softens their sorrow... "But he who trusts in the Lord, mercy shall surround him." How good to know that mercy surrounds us at every moment and guards us from the enemy's deceitful attacks.
- Forgiveness first. The shout at the end rests on the pardon at the start. Joy is the last stage of a road that began with confession, not a feeling worked up on its own.
- Righteous by gift. God counts a man righteous without works. The best man's works cannot earn this blessing, and the worst man's sins need not shut him out.
- Upright by grace. Full pardon removes deceit from the heart. A man hides nothing once he knows that another has paid the whole debt.
- Glad in Him. The command points past the forgiveness to the Forgiver. This joy rests on redemption already accomplished, not on relief alone.
- Joy that holds. Sorrows mark the wicked. Mercy surrounds the one who trusts, so he can obey this call to gladness even in the deepest distress.
Exult, ye righteous, in Jehovah praise is comely for the upright.
Psalm 33 opens with a command, not a report: it calls the righteous to be glad in the Lord and says praise suits the upright. So who are "the righteous," and why does praise suit them as it suits no one else?
The psalm before this one describes a man God has forgiven. That forgiveness is where this song starts.
Psalm 33 follows on the last verse of Psalm 32. The thought of forgiveness has put a new song in his mouth. So he can look out with clearer confidence on the principles men should act by, as he looks to the word and works of God.
The word "righteous" here does not mean people who are simply good. It means people God has dealt with — first convicted of sin, then saved.
So the call may well be now, "Shout for joy in the LORD, O you righteous! Praise befits the upright" — for those delivered from deceit by the grace that has brought conviction of sin, and has met the convicted sinner with salvation.
Where the ESV says praise "befits" the upright, an older translation says praise from the upright is "beautiful." What makes it beautiful is not how it sounds but the heart it comes from.
Praise from the deceitful is empty flattery, but from one whom God's grace has made upright, praise comes from the heart, and God counts it beautiful.
Praise is not an extra. Like prayer, we owe it to God:
"The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me" (Ps. 50:23). If prayer suits us — expressing our dependence as creatures of God, children of the Father and servants of Christ — then praise befits us too. And so does giving of thanks, since it is due to God as the source from which all blessings flow.
You cannot order a heart to be glad in nothing. So the psalm shows what God is like.
The righteous are commanded to rejoice in the Lord. So the great moral purpose of this Psalm is to give such views of the Lord as may move them to rejoice. It shows Him as One of whom it may be said, "Blessed is the nation whose God" He is. It is not enough to be commanded to love or rejoice. The object suited to these affections must be set before us — as here. Oh that our hearts could take it in willingly!
There is a plain reason to sing: rescue comes from God.
(vv. 1-3) Since deliverance comes from the Lord, the righteous are called to "Shout for joy in the LORD," to "praise the LORD," and "sing to Him a new song."
The call to praise leads into a "new song." That word means a new order of things, not just a new tune.
The "new song" means an entirely new state of things is to be established on earth. It celebrates that "the earth is full of the steadfast love of the LORD." And all this depends on the word of the Lord. "For the word of the LORD is upright, and all His work is done in faithfulness." His own character is to be made good in it. "He loves righteousness and justice."
That new state on earth is still future. The song is not waiting for it:
The new song will be sung in heaven before that time (Rev. 5:9), because a great number from all nations have been redeemed by the precious blood of Christ. It will be sung in heaven as something new. Yet believers on earth sing it even now — members of the body of Christ, who delight in singing the song of redemption (Col. 3:16). In heaven angels had never sung that song, for they needed no redemption.
- Forgiven first. The call to shout for joy stands on the ground of Psalm 32 — sin covered, and forgiveness putting a new song in the mouth.
- Made upright. "The righteous" are not simply good people. They are sinners convicted of sin, then met by grace and freed from deceit.
- Fitting, not flattering. Praise from the deceitful is empty flattery. From a heart grace has made upright, God calls it beautiful.
- Given an object. A heart cannot rejoice in nothing. So the psalm shows what God is like — His word, His works, His love of righteousness.
- A song that spreads. One forgiven man's joy widens into a new song for a renewed earth. Heaven's redeemed sing it, and believers sing it now.
Give thanks unto Jehovah with the harp; sing psalms unto him with the ten-stringed lute.
Psalm 33 opens with a burst of song, and the second verse hands the singers their instruments. Why does a psalm about God's word and works begin with strings?
The psalm picks up where the one before it left off:
Psalm 33 follows on the last verse of Psalm 32. The thought of forgiveness had put a new song in his mouth. So he can look out with clearer confidence on the principles on which men should act, looking to the word and works of God.
So the music is the sound a forgiven person makes.
The ESV names a lyre and a harp of ten strings. Older versions call them the harp and the psaltery. Even careful students are unsure what the second one was.
The main word used is nebel, and it is thought to refer to some unknown form of stringed instrument used to accompany the voice. It is at times mentioned along with the harp.
One writer explains why the harp led Israel's praise:
In the direct praise and worship of Jehovah of old, the harp seems to be used more often than any other musical instrument. The reason is its rare combination of solemn, grand notes with soft and tender strains under the hand of a skilful player.
Commentators differ on what the ten strings signify. One takes the full span of notes as a picture of praise that reaches every part of life:
Why is the harp mentioned here, or an instrument of ten strings? Because praise has a wide range of harmonious melody. The low notes are necessary to accompany the high ones. Even in the lowest places of sorrow and distress there may be true, heartfelt joy.
Another is more cautious, and reads the two instruments as sounding two different notes:
If we knew better what these instruments were — which is disputed — we should no doubt be able to see a distinct meaning in them. All we can say now is that the harp was certainly connected in a special way with strains of joy. The "ten strings" of the lyre or psaltery seem to link it with the more solemn strains of recompense and judgment. All of these must praise Him too.
One writer lines up the three psalms where this instrument appears:
Three Psalms in the inspired song book of God's earthly people speak of "an instrument of ten strings" used for His praise (Ps. 33:2; 92:3; 144:9). In the first of these His "word" is the main theme. In the second it is His "work." In the third it is the Lord Himself, ending, "Blessed are the people whose God is the LORD!" It is clear that man, by the design of God's love, is to be for His own pleasure, with all his powers used for His praise. This can only be through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus.
Israel's instruments came from rock, wood and animal gut, and they served one purpose.
Israel, God's chosen people for earth, needed a way to express their thanksgiving, praise and worship to God. So minerals came from quarries in the hills, wood from the forests, and strings from animals that had been killed. All this became cymbals, cornets, trumpets, psalteries and harps... but this cannot be stressed too earnestly — the music of praise was TO GOD, and not for the mere entertainment OF MEN!
One writer sets this call to praise beside what the New Testament asks for:
An exhortation like "Praise him with lute and harp!" is beautifully in place in the Psalms. But in the New Testament order it is, "singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart," and "I will sing praise with my spirit, but I will sing with my mind also." "Those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth."
Another writer describes what took their place:
The old order had lifeless instruments. A new creation in Christ has provided living instruments instead, with the living melodies of redemption rising up in the heart. It is true that they were quarried from the hills of a world of sin. They were taken from the forests of darkness and unbelief, and brought out of death into life. Born again, and having proved the Lord's goodness and pardoning grace, they are fitted to offer up spiritual praise that God accepts through Jesus Christ.
- Cause. Forgiveness in Psalm 32 puts a new song in the mouth in Psalm 33. Praise here is the sound of a pardoned man looking at God's word and works with confidence.
- Range. The ten strings cover high notes and low. One writer hears real praise rising even out of sorrow; another hears the solemn strains of recompense and judgment.
- Theme. Wherever the ten-stringed instrument appears, the subject is God: His word here, His work in Psalm 92, and Himself in Psalm 144.
- Direction. Israel quarried, cut and strung its music for one aim: praise to God, never entertainment for men.
- Fulfilment. The lifeless harp gives way to living instruments. Hearts brought out of death into life now make melody to the Lord in spirit and truth.
Sing unto him a new song; play skilfully with a loud sound.
Psalm 33 opens by calling the righteous to rejoice, and by verse 3 that call has a name: the new song. What makes a song new, and why does praise need skill as well as volume?
Psalm 32 described the happiness of a forgiven man. Psalm 33 widens the view to the world he lives in, and asks whether God's purpose for that world can fail.
Is God's purpose going to be frustrated? Never. We get the answer to this in Psalm 33. Psalm 32 had already described the blessedness of a forgiven man. Now in Psalm 33 we get "the new song" for the first time. … The "new song" means that an entirely new state of things is to be set up on earth. It celebrates that "the earth is filled with the goodness of the Lord."
Earlier the songs were about deliverance. Here the song has a different object.
Psalm 33 takes up this joy. It is not joy in self, or in circumstances, but in the Lord (compare Phil. 4). … The Lord had surrounded the believer with songs of deliverance. But now God Himself has become the object of rejoicing and song.
Verse 1 calls the singers "the righteous." One writer says where that righteousness comes from.
The first verses here simply expand the closing verse of the previous psalm. There we found that the righteous are righteous only by redemption. And Jehovah is the name of God as the Redeemer. It is the special name under which He takes up the people in the book of Exodus, and so the covenant Name of blessing for the redeemed.
Another writer draws from this a rule for Christian singing:
So only redeemed ones can sing. From this we learn the true character of Christian song. It should express the joy of salvation. It should carry the notes of praise and gladness that the knowledge of redemption produces in the soul.
The older translation these writers used reads simply "play skilfully with a loud sound," and names no instrument. One writer takes that silence as a clue to what the song is.
No special instrument goes with the "new song" of the third verse. For both Israel and the earth it will surely be what the number three probably suggests: a resurrection song. And resurrection of this higher kind is not a mere return to the original condition. That would almost certainly mean the wheel simply turning again, the start of the old cycle of change and decay. It is a new and higher and settled condition reached. In it the thought of God will now be realised, and His purpose from the beginning attained. No wonder the accompaniment now needs skilful playing with loud sound!
One writer sets the song in three places at once: heaven, believers on earth now, and Israel's future.
This looks ahead to the millennium, when Israel will find reason far beyond the Old Testament for singing. But the new song will be sung in heaven before that time (Rev. 5:9). There a great number from all nations have been redeemed by the precious blood of Christ. … Believers on earth sing it even now. In heaven angels had never sung that song, for they needed no redemption.
Another writer explains what makes the theme itself new.
The old song was sung by the morning stars over the foundations of the earth. It was not a conqueror's song. It did not celebrate a divine victory to redeem or to avenge God's chosen. There was no theme of victory then, for no battle had been fought and won. But sin has entered since then. A great counter-force has been at work, and the Lord has had to go out as "a man of war," the God of battles. So at the end a new song, a song with a new theme, must be awakened to celebrate Him in this new glory. … The song over creation must give place in range and melody to the song over the triumphs of Jesus.
Is anything lost by singing now, while the world around us is out of tune?
But is there no song now? Yes — the choicest of songs, which more than anticipates the one to come. When that future song is heard, everything around it will be in harmony with it. Now we sing surrounded by evil, by things out of tune, by the discords of sin and sorrow and death. But our song is the melody of the heart that knows redemption, a present redemption through His blood.
- New cause. The theme is new: not creation, but a victory won after sin entered.
- New singers. Only the redeemed have this song. The righteous of verse 1 are righteous by redemption, and angels never needed it.
- New object. Earlier psalms sang about deliverance; here God Himself becomes the object of the song.
- New skill. No instrument is named with the new song. The higher, settled state it celebrates is what calls for skilful playing and loud sound.
- New reach. The song runs from believers on earth now, to heaven, to Israel's future — sung today amid discord, from a heart that knows redemption.
For the word of Jehovah is right, and all his work is in faithfulness.
Psalm 33 is a new song, and verse 4 gives the reason: God has spoken, and God has acted. Commentators treat this line as the base of the whole psalm — creation, the failed plans of nations, God's watching eye, all of it rests on what He says and does.
The song begins with forgiveness. That is what lets the singer lift his eyes off himself and look outward.
Psalm 33 follows on from the last verse of Psalm 32. The thought of forgiveness has put a new song in his mouth. So he can look out with clearer confidence on the principles men should act on, as he looks to the word and works of God. Here the earth stands under God's eye and direction — His government as applied to it.
Calling God's word right is not distant praise. It makes His word a rule you can live by — and a rule that measures you.
The works of the Lord are done in truth. I can perfectly count on His acting on the known principles of His holy will. So His word, which is essentially right, can judge me now. This is always an important principle. The Lord, though not visibly and publicly, does govern all things. So I can act on His word, and be sure of the consequences.
The two halves of the verse are not two separate subjects. One produces the other, and the product carries the maker's stamp.
We now have the testimony given to Him by His work and word. His work is in fact the product of His word — the creation of His mind and will. So it carries the stamp of His character.
These writers quote an older translation: "right" where the ESV has "upright", and "truth" where it has "faithfulness". Read it as faithfulness, and the steady working of the physical world becomes God keeping faith with His creatures.
"For right is the Lord's word, and in faithfulness all His work." The fixed laws that run all through it are the proof. They are so fixed and so widespread that we soon grow familiar with them in all the main points, and learn to rely on them. This is a priceless blessing, and only our being so used to it tends to hide it from us… Instead, we live in a world that is stable on the whole, with only enough uncertainty to encourage dependence.
The verse names two witnesses. Believing them pulls confidence away from what men achieve.
"For the word of the Lord is right, and all His work is done in truth" (v. 4). These are absolutely reliable witnesses to encourage our adoration of His person. To know God's word is always right is a precious basis for faith. To know that all His work is done in truth encourages us to turn away from the works of men and to have unshaken confidence in the One who acts in perfect truth.
The singer praises God in a world that openly opposes Him. Verse 4 answers that problem: God's purpose hangs on His word, and that word made the heavens.
But when we look at the world as it is morally, what do we see? A system that has gradually grown up and stands in opposition to God and His Word… But is God's purpose going to be frustrated? Never. We get the answer to this in Psalm 33… Now all this hangs on the word of the Lord. "For the word of the Lord is right, and all His works are done in truth." His own character has to be proved true in it… And it is the same word that made the heavens — the word of the Lord. By it the earth stood firm.
God's own government runs in two directions at once.
Psalm 33 celebrates the righteousness of God shown in all His acts. The Psalmist goes on to speak of how right and firm all His works in creation are, while the plans of the nations and the schemes of the peoples are all brought to nothing… It is also true that "the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him… that He may deliver." His holy government acts in both directions, not only against the ungodly but also for His people.
- Forgiven. The new song starts where Psalm 32 ends. A cleared conscience lets a person look at God's word and works with confidence, not fear.
- Upright. God's word is not just information. It is a rule you can act on, sure of the outcome, and a rule that judges you now.
- Faithful. His work comes out of His word, so it carries His character. The steady laws of the world are His faithfulness to His creatures.
- Reliable. Word and work stand as two witnesses that turn the heart away from the works of men to the One who acts in perfect truth.
- Unstoppable. The world's whole system opposes Him, yet His purpose rests on the same word that made the heavens — so it cannot fail.
He loveth righteousness and judgment the earth is full of the loving-kindness of Jehovah.
Psalm 33 opens a new song, and this verse gives it a theme. God's character is the reason for singing: what He loves, and what He pours out. It raises a real question — if the earth is full of His goodness, why does the world look the way it does?
Verse 4 speaks of God's word and His works; verse 5 turns to what lies behind them. One writer pairs the two verses. He notes that the singer's heart is not fixed on the scene around him.
Two special things are celebrated here. First, His word and His works (v. 4). Then His righteousness, and His goodness or mercy (v. 5). It is true that the scene around us is full of the plans of man. Psalm 2:2 tells us how high they rise. But the heart is not taken up with that. It is taken up with the Lord. His word is right, His works are truth. The heavens, the sea, the earth bear witness.
The verse does not say God practises righteousness. It says He loves it. One writer draws two things from that difference: a pattern for believers, and a fullness still to come.
He is not merely a judge who acts in righteousness, but He does so because He loves this. Some people do what is right only out of a sense of duty. But every believer should follow the Lord's own example and love righteousness and right judgment. Because of this pure love, "the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord." This will be fully true in the millennium, though not yet.
The two halves of the verse are therefore not two separate facts. A short comment ties them together:
His word and His works declare His character; "He loves righteousness and judgment," and goodness is combined with His righteousness.
Commentators differ on how much of this fullness is present now. Another writer reads the second half as a picture of ordinary life outside Eden. The kindness is so wide that we stop noticing it.
"He loves justice and judgment." The question here is not how men twist justice. It is about these same laws in their moral character, which testify for Him. The power which earth shows is a power that "makes for righteousness." "And the earth is full of the goodness of Jehovah." This is the wide kindness that everything in nature displays. The eye, the ear, the senses in general are provided for and satisfied. Beauty, melody and variety show, with much else, how God has cared for us, even though we are outside of Eden.
The same writer turns to the steady world we live in. He calls that steadiness faithfulness on God's part.
"For right is Jehovah's word, and in faithfulness all His work." The fixed laws that run through His work are the proof. They are so fixed and so widespread that we soon get used to them and learn to rely on them. This is a priceless blessing, and only our being so used to it tends to hide it from us… Instead we are in a world that is mostly stable, with just enough uncertainty to encourage dependence.
In older translations the last word here is "goodness." Elsewhere the same word is given as "mercy" or "loving-kindness," and the ESV has "steadfast love." William Kelly renders it "the mercy of Jehovah." That mercy is not detached from the first half of the verse. It rests on it.
The earth is full of the loving-kindness of Jehovah. But this rests upon His love of righteousness and judgment, and the "New Song" ties in here.
The new song is not about the world as it stands now. It looks ahead to a settled earth, and to what holds that hope up.
The "new song" means that a new state of things altogether is coming on earth. It celebrates that "the earth is filled with the goodness of the Lord." All this hangs on the word of the Lord… He does not give up His purpose for the world which He has made. His creation, and His counsel as to it, depend upon His word.
One writer ties the whole psalm to God's own character on display.
Jehovah's character, His word and works, stand out plainly, and the earth is now full of His goodness… So the great result of Jehovah stepping in stands before the faith of the remnant, sung as if it had all already come.
- Loves — God does not act rightly out of duty. He loves righteousness and judgment, and every believer is meant to copy that love, not merely obey rules.
- Overflows — because He loves righteousness, His goodness pours out. The two stand together; they are not rivals.
- Fills the earth — that goodness reaches the eye and the ear. It shows in beauty, melody and variety, and in the steady laws that keep life stable outside Eden.
- Rests on His word — the whole hope hangs on the word of the Lord. He has not given up His purpose for the world He made.
- Sung now — faith takes up the new song ahead of the sight, celebrating a full earth as though it had already come.
By the word of Jehovah were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of his mouth.
Psalm 33 rests everything on the word of the Lord, and verse 6 takes that word back to the beginning of everything. How were the heavens made, what is "all their host," and why does the psalm credit a word and a breath?
Why does a song about God's character turn to the making of the heavens? One writer ties the two together:
Now all this hangs on the word of the Lord. "For the word of the LORD is upright, and all his work is done in faithfulness." His own character must be made good in it. "He loves righteousness and justice." And it is the same word that made the heavens — the word of the Lord. By it the earth stood firm... He does not give up His purpose about the world which He has made. His creation, and His counsel about it, depend upon His word.
The verse names no labour and no materials — only a word and a breath.
Even the heavens — space itself — are a creation of God, made simply by His word. The billions of stars were made by the breath of His mouth. We may feel that it must have taken God ages of work to create so many heavenly bodies. But He speaks of it as nothing more than breathing out!
The word behind "host" is the same one used in the title "the Lord of hosts," and its range is wide:
I may add that the same word translated "hosts" — for example, Jehovah Tzebaoth, the Lord of hosts, Psalm 24:10 — also describes the hosts of the heavens in Psalm 33:6... It covers armies, angels, and created things such as sun, moon, and stars.
Here the term points to what fills the sky, and Scripture gives those lights a further sense:
This term stands for the sun, moon, and stars. One of the Psalms shows it: "By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host" (Psalm 33:6). And it is just as plain from the Scriptures that the sun, moon, and stars are symbols of ruling authorities — the sun the supreme authority, the moon a derived one, and the stars authorities under them.
after
"Breath of His mouth" — a picture of power going out from God Himself. One writer shows the same figure at work in two very different ways:
"The breath of his mouth" expresses the inner energy of divine power. That power may be creative, as in Psalm 33:6, or judicial, as in 2 Samuel 22:16, Job 4:9, Psalm 18:15, Isaiah 11:4 and Isaiah 30:33. It is the power with which the Lord will destroy the lawless one.
One writer reads "the word of the LORD" here alongside the New Testament's teaching about the Son:
He is the Word, who was with God, and was God, through whom all things came forth... "By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host. He gathers the waters of the sea as a heap... Let all the earth fear the LORD" (Psalm 33:6, 8)... And God has spoken to us fully and finally in the Son, "through whom also He created the world."
So where does knowledge of that beginning come from?
We know nothing about the origin of creation, and we can know nothing, except what God's revelation tells us... God spoke, and brought things into existence. At the command of the Almighty created things appeared; they did not evolve out of things that already existed. Matter is not eternal.
The same word that started everything also holds it up:
Everything that God does He does by His Word: to this fact all Scripture bears united testimony. He wills the thing to be; He commands, and it exists... "upholding the universe by the word of his power" (Hebrews 1:3). By His Word He created all things, and by His Word they subsist.
- Word — The heavens exist because God spoke; He needed no materials and no long process.
- Breath — The same "breath of His mouth" that filled space with stars is the power that will one day destroy the lawless one.
- Host — The word covers armies, angels and stars. Here it means the sun, moon and stars — which Scripture also uses as pictures of ruling authority.
- Counsel — Since His word made and still upholds creation, His purpose for this world cannot fail either.
- Trust — Faith here rests on revelation, not research. God said it, and the psalm's whole confidence stands on that word.
He gathereth the waters of the sea together as a heap; he layeth up the deeps in storehouses.
Psalm 33 praises God for what He made. Verse 7 turns to the sea: piled up like a heap, stored away in storerooms, and wholly under His hand.
The first line of the verse describes something anyone can still check.
The way God has designed the earth — our present home — is amazing too. Over 70% of the earth's surface is water, yet it does not overflow the land. God gathers the waters together, for all the seas connect with one another. It is as though God designed the earth in such a way that it formed storehouses to hold the waters (v. 7).
The word behind "the deeps" carries more weight than a calm surface suggests. One writer traces it back to the opening of Genesis.
Beneath the heavens stretches their earthly reflection, the great sea. Its waters, massed as a heap under the Lord's hand, reduce man to nothing before Him (Psalm 107:23-30). … The word for "depths" is the plural of the word in Genesis 1:2, tehom, which means the "raging deep." He lays these depths up beneath the quiet and smiling surface, in treasuries. He brings them out whenever He has use for them, and the effect is decisive. This is how the pagan sailors who carried Jonah, and Jonah himself, learned how foolish it is to try to escape the Lord's power.
Israel once walked between those waters. One writer shows where the power actually lay.
God used the "strong east wind" to split the Red Sea. The waters stood as "crystal walls" on either side and made a path for His people to cross. Yet God had invested His power and authority in the staff Moses stretched out. "He divided the sea and let them pass through it, and made the waters stand like a heap" (Psalm 78:13). "He rebuked the Red Sea, and it became dry" (Psalm 106:9).
One writer finds this same power in a Person asleep in the middle of wind and waves.
Then we see this wonderful Person rise from His sleep. With all the power of the infinite Creator He rebukes the winds and the waves, and at once there is calm. No mere man could do such a thing! This was the Person who had gathered the waters under heaven into one place (Genesis 1:9). He is the One who had made the sea stand up as a solid wall to give the Israelites passage.
The psalm does not stop at what God made. One writer follows the step from creation to God's own purpose.
From this view of creation we turn next to the Lord making good His name (the Unchangeable) in His dealings with His creatures. The counsels of the nations cannot stand against His counsel. … On the other hand, His counsel stands forever, and the thoughts of His heart last "from generation to generation." This contrast only brings more lasting comfort to those who anchor their weakness to the rock of His stability.
One writer turns these storehouses into a question for the reader.
Are we content with a shallow knowledge of the things of God? Or do we know, in the power of the Spirit of God, the blessedness of the deep things of God that have been revealed to us? These "deep things of God" are far more important and far more precious than everything else. They are the precious things connected with Christ in glory, for the depths of God are connected to a risen Christ. In Psalm 33:7, God speaks of the storehouses of the depth. This is surely a sign of the abundance available to us as we are found truly desiring these things.
- Gathered. The seas connect as one body, and the water stays off land it could cover. That is design, not accident.
- Stored. "The deeps" is the raging deep of Genesis 1:2, laid up under a calm surface in treasuries God opens when He chooses.
- Opened. Jonah met a storehouse opened against him. At the Red Sea, Israel walked through the same waters heaped up for them.
- Embodied. Commentators identify this Creator with the One who rose from sleep and rebuked the wind and waves.
- Anchored. The God who stores up oceans has counsel that stands forever. That is where weakness finds comfort, and why His depths are worth searching.
Let all the earth fear Jehovah; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him.
The psalm has just traced the heavens and the seas back to one cause: the spoken word of God. Now it turns outward and calls every nation to fear Him — but why should the whole world tremble, and what sort of fear is meant?
The call does not stop at the borders of Israel. It runs as wide as creation itself.
By His word He brought the creation into being. All the earth, with all its inhabitants, are called to own Him as the mighty Creator.
The summons is not left hanging. The very next verse gives the reason.
These marvellous facts surely call for the deep consideration of all mankind (v. 8). They should make us fear the Lord with reverent awe and admiration. "For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm" (v. 9). All the visible creation came into being in a moment, just by the voice of the Lord. It was no process, but immediate creation. Scientists have recently put forward the theory of the "big bang" to explain how suddenly matter appeared. But they have no idea what it was that exploded to cause the big bang.
The Hebrew behind the second half of the verse carries a picture the English loses. It places the creature, whose life is brief, next to the One whose life is not.
"Let all the earth fear the LORD; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of Him!" To stand in awe is literally to "sojourn" — to live as guests with Him, to whom alone belongs eternity... He who brought them into being clearly still holds them in His control.
Being told to fear God can sound like bad news. It is not.
This fear of the Lord is not the cringing dread that marks the superstitious. No. It is reverent trust joined with a hatred of evil. "The fear of the LORD is hatred of evil" (Prov. 8:13). "The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever." Where this fear is kept up, the presence of the Lord is real and a joy.
This fear does not push a person away from God.
But this does not put us at a distance, or make us want distance. It is simply the creature conscious of being a creature — and where else should it be so conscious? — and this is its safeguard. "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom": for it keeps God in His place, and man in his; and this is the simple key to true understanding.
Writers link the creating word of verse 6 with the Word of John's Gospel — and note that the world's failure to fear is not for lack of evidence.
He is the Word, who was with God, and was God, through whom all things came forth... "By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of His mouth all their host. He gathers the waters of the sea as a heap... Let all the earth fear the LORD" (Ps. 33:6, 8). "This is hidden from men through their own wilfulness" (2 Peter 3:5).
Commentators also read the psalm forward, to a time when God acts and the call of verse 8 is finally answered.
Meanwhile the nations had been shaping proud plans, driven by the cunning and power of the ruler of this world. Their thoughts had been set high against the Lord and against His Christ. But the time had come for God to rise up in power, so that the inhabitants of the world would stand in awe of Him.
Yet the psalm is not on hold until then.
But this is only a suggestion about how the Psalm may apply to prophecy. Meanwhile, let those who love the Lord remember that it is all their own. The practical value of such songs to the believer does not depend on pinning down exactly which period they belong to.
- Cause. God spoke, and creation was there. It was "no process, but immediate creation" — facts that "call for the deep consideration of all mankind."
- Creature. To "stand in awe" is literally to "sojourn". We are short-term guests of the One "to whom alone belongs eternity", who still holds everything He made.
- Character. This fear is not the dread of the superstitious. It is "reverent trust joined with a hatred of evil". It keeps "God in His place, and man in his" — the key to true understanding.
- Compass. The call reaches past Israel to "all the earth, with all its inhabitants". They are called to own their Maker. The world ignores Him by its own wilfulness, not for lack of proof.
- Consummation. Commentators see a day when God rises in power and the world does stand in awe. Until then, the psalm already belongs to everyone who loves the Lord.
For *he* spoke, and it was [done]; *he* commanded, and it stood fast.
One short line tells how everything began: God spoke, and it was there. It also raises a bigger question — does the God who spoke still hold the world He made?
Writers take this line as Scripture's own answer to questions about origins. One writer says God had no existing material to work with:
We know nothing, and can know nothing, about the origin of creation except what divine revelation discloses. "By the word of the LORD the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their host." "He spoke, and it came to be." So wrote the psalmist (Ps. 33:6, 9). "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth" (Gen. 1:1). So wrote the lawgiver. God spoke, and brought things into existence. By the command of the Almighty created things appeared. They did not evolve out of things that already existed. Matter is not eternal.
Another writer notes what the verse rules out:
All the visible creation was brought into being in a moment, just by the voice of the Lord. It was no process, but immediate creation.
The word "for" ties this verse to the call in the verse before. Making the world cost God nothing but a word:
After this, then, comes the call, "Let all the earth fear the LORD; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him." "Stand in awe" is literally "sojourn" — be as sojourners with Him, to whom alone eternity belongs. The argument is given in the next verse. These mighty and stable powers came into existence by His mere command. He who brought them into being clearly has them still under His control.
The psalm does not say who spoke. One writer names Him:
"The universe was created by the word of God," as Hebrews 11:3 has told us; or we may take the words of Psalm 33:9. How significant here is the opening of John's Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word." He existed before the first beginnings of creation. Moreover He "was with God, and… was God… All things were made through him." So it was the Word who uttered the words of power that created and made all things — the same Word who later "became flesh and dwelt among us."
The same One who once only commanded came into a place where He learned to obey:
Until then He had commanded; He spoke, and it was done. Now He learns obedience in suffering, as each of the four God-given accounts of His perfect life makes known to us. It was in this school that He learned the rare and precious art of sympathy and of speaking a word to the weary: weariness and weeping, hunger and poverty, contact with every form of human misery and grief. He learned it in this everyday school, not in the untroubled dignities of heaven.
The psalm moves from what God spoke into being to what God plans. One writer links the two:
The earth stood firm by the same word that made the heavens — the word of the LORD. "He spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm." Then verse 11 says, "The counsel of the LORD stands forever, the plans of his heart to all generations." He does not give up His purpose for the world He has made. His creation, and His counsel about it, depend on His word.
Because the first creation cost only a word, the last one will cost no more:
He acted to bring the old creation into existence, according to Genesis 1. He acts again to bring the new into existence. As before, so here, the word of His power is enough. Formerly "He spoke, and it came to be" (Ps. 33:9). Now again He speaks, and His words are, "It is done." Both are accomplished with equal ease.
- Spoke — Creation came by command, not from material God had to work with. Matter is not eternal. Nothing evolved out of what was already there.
- Instantly — The verse leaves no room for a process. It was immediate creation at the sound of His voice.
- Therefore fear — The whole earth has one reason to stand in awe. The One who made these vast powers by a word still holds them under His control.
- The Word Himself — The voice of Genesis 1 is the Word of John 1. He later became flesh and learned obedience through suffering, so He could speak to the weary.
- It stood firm — The word that steadied creation also secures His counsel, which stands forever. That same word will yet speak the new creation into being, with equal ease.
Jehovah frustrateth the counsel of the nations; he maketh the thoughts of the peoples of none effect.
The verse sits in a song about God's word — the same word that made the heavens now empties the plans of the nations. It answers a question people still ask: when world powers scheme, whose purpose decides history?
One writer ties this psalm to the forgiveness celebrated just before it. That forgiveness frees the singer to look at the world with confidence.
Psalm 33 follows on from the last verse of Psalm 32. The thought of forgiveness had put a new song in his mouth. So he can look out with clearer confidence on the principles on which men should act, looking to the word and works of God. The psalm views the earth as under God's eye and direction — His government applied to it.
The verse names two groups: the nations and the peoples. One writer notes that the second word reaches wider than the first.
Against His counsel the counsels of the nations cannot stand. The world is away from Him and against Him, so the thoughts of peoples cannot stand either. The second word takes in more than the first: it takes in even Israel, His "people." On the other hand, His counsel stands forever: the thoughts of His heart "from generation to generation."
The verse does not stand alone in the psalm. The lines just before it describe creation by a spoken word, and the same word is what dismantles what men have planned.
Moreover His word and His works bring the counsels of the nations to nothing, and make clear that the counsels of the Lord will not only be fulfilled, but will stand forever.
That link between creation and counsel is the argument of the whole psalm. God's purpose for the world He made rests on the same foundation as the world itself.
It is the same word that made the heavens — the word of the Lord — and the earth stood firm by it. "He spoke, and it came to be; He commanded, and it stood firm." He does not give up His purpose concerning the world which He has made. His creation, and His counsel about it, depend on His word.
God does more than defeat the plans of men. He shows them up for what they always were.
The Lord shows that His counsels will be realized for what they are. He makes every opposition to them powerless. He brings the counsel of the nations to nothing, and He exposes the plans of mere men as just that — the plans of mere men.
One writer saw the same thing in the world's great alliances.
As it was then, so it is today; all the plans of men, however wise, will be brought to nothing if the Lord so desires. We have seen the great League of Nations break up in pieces, though the great powers of the earth set it up. The United Nations has already proved to be a weak and powerless instrument, even when very small nations defy it.
One writer reads the psalm as one government working in two directions at once.
The Psalmist goes on to speak of how right and firm all His works in creation are. The counsel of the nations and the devices of the peoples, on the other hand, all come to nothing. From His dwelling on high He looks down on the sons of men and disciplines them in this way. But it is also true that "the eye of the Lord is on those who fear Him… to deliver." His holy government acts in both directions, not only against the ungodly but also for His people.
God does not always stop a scheme in advance. Sometimes He lets it run to the end, and that is how it defeats itself.
David prayed, "O Lord, please turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness." God answered that prayer by making Absalom listen to someone else's counsel. But He allowed man's wicked counsel to get rid of Christ to be carried out in full, and it ended in its own defeat… What a comfort for believers to realize that God is greater than any combination of men that can be against Him, even though behind them all lies the subtlety and force of Satan himself.
- Counsel forgiven. The song starts from forgiveness. A clear conscience lets a person face the world's scheming without fear.
- Counsel spoken. The word that made the heavens is the word that empties human plans. God's purpose for the world rests on the same foundation as the world itself.
- Counsel exposed. God does more than beat the opposition. He shows the plans of mere men to be just that — from ancient nations to modern alliances.
- Counsel overruled. The plans of "peoples" include God's own people. No one is outside it. God's government humbles the proud and delivers those who fear Him.
- Counsel standing. Even a plan God allows to succeed ends in its own defeat. The cross proves it. God is greater than any group of men set against Him.
The counsel of Jehovah standeth for ever, the thoughts of his heart from generation to generation.
The verse sits right after a picture of collapse: the plans of the nations come to nothing. Against that ruin the psalm sets one thing that never moves — what God has decided, and what He holds in His heart.
One writer traces that pattern from the psalm to our own day:
Psalm 33:10-11 sets the counsel of the Lord against the counsel of the nations. The Lord brings all the plans of the nations to nothing. But His counsel is eternal. Nothing can frustrate it. It remains, showing the wisdom and the power of God. As it was then, so it is today. However wise the plans of men are, the Lord will bring them to nothing if He so desires. We have seen the great League of Nations, set up by the great powers of the earth, break up in pieces. And events have already exposed the United Nations as a weak and powerless instrument, even when very small nations defy it.
Earlier in the psalm, God speaks and the world comes into being. One writer links that same word to the counsel of verse 11:
But is God's purpose going to be frustrated? Never. We get the answer to this in Psalm 33… It is the same word that made the heavens — the word of the Lord. The earth stood firm by it. "He spoke, and it came to be; He commanded, and it stood firm." Then verse 11 says, "The counsel of the Lord stands for ever, the thoughts of His heart to all generations." He does not give up His purpose for the world He has made. His creation, and His counsel about it, depend upon His word.
(The ESV reads "the plans of His heart"; older versions have "the thoughts of His heart".)
The phrase "to all generations" points to a God who does not change. One writer draws out the comfort in that:
After looking at creation, we are led on to see Jehovah living out His name — the Unchangeable One — in the way He deals with His creatures. The counsels of the nations cannot stand against His counsel… His own counsel, though, stands forever: the thoughts of His heart "from generation to generation." That contrast only brings deeper and longer-lasting comfort to those who anchor their weakness to the rock of His stability.
If God's counsel stands, why does the world still look like man's counsel is winning? One writer names the stretch of time we live in, and what it is for:
The "times" are running on. They form the period between the declaring of the counsels of the Lord and their fulfilment. During that period men try to set up their own counsels. In the end the Lord will frustrate them and bring them to nothing, so that the thoughts of His heart may stand to all generations. During these times faith is tested, and that testing is far more precious than gold that perishes.
One writer applied this verse to a dark hour in Judah, when a usurper sat on the throne God had promised to David's family:
But faith endures as seeing Him who is invisible. The enemy may appear for a time to triumph, but it is only in appearance, and for a short time. "The counsel of the Lord stands for ever, and the thoughts of His heart to all generations." God is over all, and above all. His word can never fail. Let us "only believe," and trust in Him. In due time God will answer faith, fulfil the promise, and completely confound every enemy.
Another writer applies the same verse to failure inside the people of God:
There is a limit even to the patience of God. Righteousness demands it. So in the second letter to Timothy we see the house, the great house (in some sense the house of God), as a ruined and disowned thing. But "the counsel of the Lord stands for ever, the thoughts of His heart to all generations." The vessel is marred on the wheel in the hand of the Potter. But the Potter, in His sovereign right over the clay, makes another vessel as it has pleased Him.
- Counsel stands. The Lord breaks the plans of the nations; His own counsel remains.
- Because His word stands. The word that made the heavens carries His purpose for the world — He does not abandon what He made.
- Through all generations. He is the Unchangeable One, so weak people can anchor themselves to the rock of His stability.
- Across the gap. We live between the plan announced and the plan fulfilled. That gap is where faith is tested.
- Even through ruin. Enemy triumph is appearance only, and the Potter remakes even a marred vessel.
Blessed is the nation whose God is Jehovah, the people that he hath chosen for his inheritance!
Psalm 33 has just said that the plans of nations come to nothing while the LORD's counsel stands. Then it calls one people happy. Their blessing rests on one fact: who their God is. The claim also runs the other way. God has chosen them as His own.
The blessing is not a change of subject. It is the comfort that comes out of the collapse of every rival plan.
Against His counsel the counsels of the nations cannot stand. Nor, since the world is away from Him and in opposition to Him, can the thoughts of peoples stand either. That second phrase includes even Israel, His "people"; the first does not. On the other hand, His counsel stands forever: the thoughts of His heart "from generation to generation." So the contrast only brings more lasting comfort to those who anchor their weakness to the rock of His stability — "the nation whose God is the LORD, and the people whom He has chosen" (as Israel is) "as His heritage."
Commentators read the verse as naming Israel. That raises an obvious objection, which one writer meets head-on.
Verse 12 refers plainly to Israel, the nation whose God is the Lord, the people He has chosen as His own inheritance. Of course, there are those who criticize His choice of such a nation — a nation that has failed so badly since He chose them… But God knew perfectly well how evil they would prove to be. What other nation would have proved better? Not one!… Why did God then choose them? Because He is God and has a right to choose whom He will. Though they have failed, He will still restore them amazingly, and they will indeed be greatly "blessed."
The privilege of having the LORD as their God came with duties that set Israel apart from every nation around them.
An immense privilege, as the Psalmist confessed… But His people carried responsibilities that other nations knew nothing about… Israel were something neither the Egyptians nor the Canaanites could claim, or ever become: the Lord's own special people, whom He had chosen for Himself. So He told them: "You shall not do as they do in the land of Egypt, where you lived, and you shall not do as they do in the land of Canaan, to which I am bringing you" (Leviticus 18:3).
The verse calls this people God's heritage. That reverses the usual direction: God is the one who inherits.
That God should inherit a people is a familiar idea in Scripture. He always had a people, and in grace He called His chosen His inheritance (Deut. 32:9). This expression makes clear to faith the true position of God's chosen people in the middle of a rejected world.
Commentators differ over how far that carries across to Christians. One draws a sharp line between Israel's position and ours:
Whose land was Israel's? It was God's inheritance, and those in whom He inherited it were Israel. We are not an inheritance, but we are heirs of God.
Countries often borrow this verse to call themselves God's own. One writer answers that directly.
A special feature of the present age is this: God has set aside all national or inherited religion, as seen in His chosen nation of Israel. No other nation is ever called His chosen in Scripture. In its place He has put the testimony that takes in all the Gentiles — that is, every nation and tribe under the sun.
One writer reads the psalm forward, to a day when the nation sings it with understanding.
It is a song for Israel's last days. By then the veil will be gone from the nation's heart, and their eyes will see the Lord their righteousness in the person of the once rejected Jesus. It is a new song… The performance of the mercy will call out from the heart of the new-born nation the high and fitting praises of their God and Saviour.
Yet the same writer refuses to lock the psalm away until then.
Meanwhile let those who love the Lord remember that it is all their own. Such songs are just as valuable to the believer even when we cannot say exactly which period they belong to.
- Counsel — The nations' plans collapse, but God's counsel stands forever. The happy people are the ones anchored to Him.
- Choice — Israel is the nation meant. God chose them knowing how they would fail. The reason lies in His right to choose, not in their record.
- Cost — The privilege carried duties no other nation had. Israel were not to live like Egypt or like Canaan.
- Claim — "His inheritance" reverses the direction of ownership: God inherits a people. Commentators differ on how this applies to Christians. Some call believers heirs of God, not His inheritance.
- Chorus — No modern nation is Scripture's chosen nation. The song waits for the day Israel sees. Until then it belongs to everyone who loves the Lord.
Jehovah looketh from the heavens; he beholdeth all the sons of men
Psalm 33 praises God as Creator and as ruler of the nations. At verse 13 the psalm turns to us: is this look a distant glance, a close inspection, or the gaze of One who already knows every heart?
The psalm has just called a nation happy because the LORD is its God. Verse 13 grounds that happiness. The God who chose them also surveys everyone else.
Psalm 33 celebrates the full result of deliverance. It calls the upright to rejoice. Jehovah makes His character, His word and His works plain, and the earth is now full of His goodness. He is the glorious Creator. The earth is to fear Him. All that man devises and plans comes to nothing before Him; His counsel stands. How blessed is the nation whose God is Jehovah, the people He has chosen for His inheritance. It is Jehovah who has looked down on men and ordered everything; but His eye is on those who fear Him and hope in His mercy.
This is not casual noticing. One writer presses how closely God looks, and who it is that looks.
From this safe harbor the world of living men is now reviewed. Jehovah Himself looks at them. He does not only see them; He examines them closely. And He is the One who formed them, the One who knows perfectly everything they do. But the result is only this: man's nothingness is seen once more. The army around a king cannot save him, and neither can a hero's strength.
How far does this sight reach? One writer answers that nothing can hide from it, and that earlier writers had already said so.
This range of vision has no bounds. It is so penetrating and clear-sighted that no object can be hidden from it. Earlier inspired writers had already pointed to it, and credited it to Him "who sits in the heavens."
The next verses say He fashions every heart and weighs every deed. One writer holds the two together: each heart is His own work, and each deed is the person's own responsibility.
In His counsels God brings His own to a place of highest blessing. Yet He also looks down from heaven. He sees and takes full account of the condition and needs of the people on earth. That condition is one of utter weakness and of dependence on power high above the earth (vv. 13-14). But it is He Himself who fashions their hearts, everyone in a different way (v. 15), yet all utterly dependent. For the very activities of people's hearts are just as diverse as the appearance of their faces. But all their works too, which are their own responsibility, He fully considers.
For a nation with enemies, this verse settles who is in control. God sees those who oppose His people, and they do not decide the outcome.
How blessed then the nation whose God is the LORD. They may have failed badly, but God has chosen Israel, and He will carry out "the plans of his heart" for the nation. Men may oppose but God has seen all the sons of men. He knows their hearts: He considers their works. Men trust in their kings, their armies, and their "great strength," but the Lord orders everything according to His counsels.
The survey of all people ends by resting on one group. What began as inspection ends as care.
As He looked down from heaven, He took notice of all that was going on among men. He saw where they put their confidence. But His eye was resting on those who fear Him, on those who hope in His mercy. Not only do they know Him, but He knows them. They are the objects of His care.
The same look can carry a heavier weight. One writer draws a line between God's constant sight and a look that comes just before He acts.
It is not simply that all is under the eye of God, which is ever true, but this is the look that precedes judgment.
- Looks — This is a survey from heaven, not a glance. He examines closely, and He is the One who made what He examines.
- Sees — Nothing falls outside that sight. No place and no person can hide.
- Knows — He fashions each heart in its own way. He also weighs each person's works, and those works stay their own responsibility.
- Rules — He has seen every person. So kings, armies and human strength decide nothing. His counsel orders everything.
- Rests — The same eye that scans everyone settles on those who fear Him and hope in His mercy. They know Him, and He knows them.
From the place of his habitation he looketh forth upon all the inhabitants of the earth;
The psalm has just said that God's counsel stands and His chosen people are blessed. Now it turns from His throne to the crowded earth below — and the question is what this look is, and what it means to live under it.
God looks out from safety, and He takes in every living person. The look is closer than a glance.
From this safe harbour the world of living men is now reviewed. Jehovah Himself regards them: He not only beholds, He examines them closely; and He is the One who fashioned them, who has perfect knowledge of all they do. But the result is only that man's nothingness is realised once more. The army that surrounds a king cannot save him, nor can the strength of a hero.
"All the inhabitants of the earth" leaves no one out. Geography sets no limit to what He sees, and the One who sees is the One who governs.
His "eyes" run to and fro through the whole earth, beholding the evil and the good. Nothing can possibly escape His notice, whether it is done in the far east or the extreme west, at either of the poles or at the equator. He has shown Himself strong again and again for those whose heart is perfect toward Him. He is the One who controls the destinies of the nations and of the whole earth.
What does He see when He looks out? One writer finds two things: what people need, and what people do.
In His counsels God brings His own to a place of highest blessing. Yet He also looks down from heaven to see and take full account of the condition and needs of the inhabitants of the earth. That condition is one of complete weakness. People depend on a power high above the earth (vv. 13-14)… But all their works too, which are their own responsibility, He fully considers. In fact, even unbelievers will give account for their works at the Great White Throne (Rev. 20:11-12).
In Psalms 14 and 53 the same look finds only corruption. One writer says the survey here carries a different note.
This leads into a meditation on the state of the sons of men as Jehovah sees them (vv. 13-15). It is not like Psalms 14 and 53, which look at their corruptions. Here it is according to His own loving-kindness (vv. 18, 19).
Mercy does not cancel God's government. The verse says He looks out from where He lives on high, and one writer traces that look in two directions.
From the place where He lives on high He looks down on the sons of men and chastens them in this way. But it is also true that "the eye of the LORD is on those who fear him… that he may deliver their soul from death". His holy government acts in both directions, not only against the ungodly but also for His people.
So where does this leave the person being looked at? Human strength has already proved worthless, and the psalm points to fear and hope instead.
It is Jehovah who has looked down on men and disposed of all; but His eye is on those who fear Him and hope in His mercy. So the great result of Jehovah's intervention is set before the faith of the remnant, sung as if it had all already come.
- He looks from the throne. God looks out from a settled place: His counsel stands and His chosen people are secure. The look begins from a safe harbour.
- He looks at everyone. East or west, pole or equator — no act is out of range. The eye that runs through the whole earth is the eye that controls the destinies of nations.
- He looks closely. This is not a glance. He examines closely, He fashioned the people He watches, and He fully considers their works.
- He looks in loving-kindness. Psalms 14 and 53 expose only corruption; here loving-kindness sets the tone. The same government still chastens, and it acts for His people as well as against the ungodly.
- So look back. Fear Him and hope in His mercy. No army and no hero's strength can save the man who trusts them instead.
He who fashioneth the hearts of them all, who considereth all their works.
Psalm 33 has just shown the Lord looking down from heaven on every person alive. This verse says why nothing escapes Him: He made the very hearts He is watching, and He keeps account of what they do.
The psalm moves from creation to the Creator's inspection of living people. One writer points out that this is no casual glance. The One looking closely is the One who made them.
From this safe harbour the world of living men is now reviewed. The Lord Himself regards them: He not only beholds, He scrutinises closely; and He is the One who fashioned them, who has perfect knowledge of all they do. But the result only shows man's nothingness once more.
"Them all" does not mean a mass. One writer reads this fashioning as individual work. God makes each heart, and the person still answers for what he does with it.
But it is He Himself who fashions their hearts, everyone in a different way (v. 15), yet all utterly dependent. For the very activities of people's hearts are just as diverse as the appearance of their faces. But all their works too, which are their own responsibility, He fully considers. Indeed, even unbelievers will have to give account for their works at the Great White Throne (Rev. 20:11-12).
Another writer draws the same connection in a later psalm. What God knows about a person, He knows as that person's Maker.
Now the psalmist considers God's works in the details of his own existence. Because God is Creator, He therefore reaches into those details fully and perfectly. Nothing is hidden from Him, including the very thoughts of the heart.
To "observe all their deeds" is more than counting them. God's measure of an action is its quality. Only the One who reaches the heart behind the act can measure that way.
God will remember everything and assess it Himself. "The LORD is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed" (1 Sam. 2:3). Not "counted," as if quantity were everything with God, but "weighed"; quality is the chief thing with Him. "Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the LORD weighs the heart" (Prov. 21:2).
That weighing also unsettles our own confident view of a good deed.
On the outside they may often seem good and beautiful. But if the motive behind them came to light, it might completely change how we judge them. The Father's eye rests on the deepest sources of our conduct. So He is never deceived.
Nothing arranged on the outside changes what He sees. That is bad news for pretending, and good news for honesty.
On the other hand, no attractive appearance, no mere profession, no religious front deceives Him. "All are naked and exposed to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account." And the upright heart that truly knows His love would not want it otherwise. It gives great comfort and rest to such a heart that He knows and discerns everything perfectly.
The searching never stops, so the question is how to live under it. A commentator links the greatest blessing a person can receive to a heart kept right before the God who knows hearts.
I am speaking of God's knowledge of us. He searches the hidden depths within us perfectly, laying bare our secret motives. I am speaking too of our own awareness that God's eyes in heaven are always on us — not only on our outward appearance, which people also see, but on the heart, which people do not see. The man whose heart is kept right before the heart-knowing God receives the greatest blessing from God.
- Fashioned — God did not only look at human hearts. He formed each one, every person differently, and all alike dependent on Him.
- Known — because He is the Maker, He reaches into every detail of our lives. Nothing is hidden from Him, not even the thoughts of the heart.
- Weighed — He does not glance, He examines. He does not count actions, He weighs them: quality, not quantity, counts with Him.
- Exposed — no appearance, profession or religious front deceives Him. The motive behind a fine-looking deed can overturn our whole view of it.
- Answered — unbelievers will give account for these same deeds at the Great White Throne. For the upright heart, His perfect knowledge is comfort and rest, and the heart kept right before Him receives the fullest blessing.
The king is not saved by the multitude of [his] forces; a mighty man is not delivered by much strength.
The psalm has just described God reviewing every person alive and weighing what they do. Now it says where safety is not found — not in armies, not in muscle — and leaves one question: if strength cannot save, what can?
The verse is not a stray proverb. It is the conclusion of a survey, and one writer traces where that survey lands:
From this safe harbour the world of living men is now reviewed. Jehovah Himself takes notice of them. He does not only see them; He examines them closely. He is the One who made them, and He knows everything they do. But the result only shows once more that man is nothing. The host that surrounds a king cannot save him, nor the strength of a hero. Nor can the strength of a horse be enough to deliver him, even to escape. But this is only the necessary prelude to another witness to God Himself.
History proves it. Ben-hadad, king of Syria, brought a huge army against an Israel that looked tiny:
The Syrians "filled the country," while Israel encamped "like two little flocks of goats" (1 Kings 20:27). The Lord told Israel He would deliver the great army into their hand (v. 28). Israel killed 100,000 foot soldiers. So his own great army did not save Ben Hadad, king of Syria — far from it. He went into an inner room to hide (v. 30). This is only one of many occasions that prove the truth of this verse.
A king can also trust his horses. Solomon wrote the truth about that in Proverbs, then forgot it:
In Proverbs 21:31 Solomon himself says, "The horse is made ready for the day of battle." Then he adds what he later forgot completely: "but the victory belongs to the LORD." So horses were used for war in his time... but David wrote before Solomon began to reign, "The war horse is a false hope for salvation, and by its great might it cannot rescue" (Psalm 33:17).
The verse denies that numbers save. It does not say that few are holier than many. That correction matters, because a small group can be just as proud as a large one:
We must not despise numbers. Pride may lurk in the hearts of a few, as well as among the many.
Jonathan showed the opposite. He went up against the Philistines because numbers do not limit God:
He goes up against the Philistines in the power of that word: "nothing can hinder the LORD from saving by many or by few." It was "the Lord" who filled his soul. Having Him, "many or few" made no difference. Faith does not reckon on circumstances, but on God.
The danger is rarely a loud rejection of God. It is a slow shift of confidence toward something visible. One writer measures it precisely:
Nothing is more certain than this. When a believer puts any degree of confidence in man, or in himself, he takes that much of his trust away from "the living God."... But faith alone can use the weapons of our warfare, and when faith fails, we always turn in practice to the world and its strength and wisdom for help.
One writer reads the verse forward to the end. When the nations finally gather against Israel, this psalm gets its closing proof:
Then the final lesson will appear. No king is saved by the size of his army. No mighty man is delivered by great strength. No horse can give safety. Israel at last are poor in spirit, and Jehovah brings the counsel of the nations to nothing, while His counsel stands for ever.
- Weighed. The verse follows God's survey of every person alive. He made them and knows all they do, and the result shows that man is nothing.
- Not saved. The biggest army cannot save a king. The strongest man cannot deliver himself. The horse cannot rescue by its might.
- Proved. Ben-hadad's huge army left him hiding in an inner room. Solomon filled his stables and forgot his own proverb.
- Not numbers. Pride can hide in a few as well as in a crowd. Faith does not count circumstances; it counts on God, so "many or few" makes no difference.
- Transferred. Confidence put in man is trust taken away from the living God. At the end, the nations' plan comes to nothing and His counsel stands for ever.
The horse is a vain thing for safety; neither doth he deliver by his great power.
Psalm 33 praises a God whose word made the heavens and whose plan outlasts every human one. Then it looks at what people lean on instead. Verse 17 names the strongest weapon an ancient army could own and says it cannot rescue anyone. So what can?
In the world of the psalm, the horse meant military power. One writer shows what God told His people about it:
Especially in those ancient days, and in the East, people used the horse mainly in war. God warned His people not to put their trust in this mighty instrument of war: "The war horse is a false hope for salvation." "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God" (Ps. 20:7). It is He who "has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider He has thrown into the sea" (Ex. 15:1). Jehovah is infinitely exalted above all His creatures… Deliverance must come, not from horses, but from the Lord on high.
David wrote this psalm before Solomon became king. Solomon repeated the same lesson in one of his proverbs, and then forgot it.
Solomon himself tells us in Proverbs 21:31 that "The horse is made ready for the day of battle." Then he adds what he afterwards completely forgot: "but the victory belongs to the LORD."… But David wrote before Solomon began to reign, "The war horse is a false hope for salvation, and by its great might it cannot rescue" (Psalm 33:17). And again, Jehovah's "delight is not in the strength of the horse" (Psalm 147:10). In days of danger Jehovah is worth more to His people than regiments of cavalry.
(Older translations read "safety is of Jehovah" in Proverbs 21:31 and "a vain thing for safety" in this verse. That shared word is why Fereday links them.)
The horse has gone; the instinct behind it has not. One writer puts the war horse beside a man's own strength, and beside every other defence people choose:
A mighty man trusts his own strength, and in the long run it fails him. He may trust the strength of a war horse in the same way. But this is a vain hope. In the end he will find even the great strength of the horse failing him. So people choose many methods of self-defence. These prove useless to protect them, because they are not depending on their Creator. But we all seem very slow to learn this most basic lesson. The strength of the creature, in any form, is pathetically weak. We need the strength of God to keep us safe.
One writer sees the same lesson taught one last time, when God brings the plans of the nations to nothing:
Then one final lesson will appear. No king is saved by the size of his army. A mighty man is not delivered by much strength. And the war horse is a false hope for salvation. Israel at last are poor in spirit. Jehovah brings the counsel of the nations to nothing, while His counsel stands for ever.
The psalm does not stop at this dead end. One writer shows what changes at verse 18, and why:
Though no deliverance is found in verses 16 and 17, how blessed is the change in the verses that follow. Why? Because "the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him" (v. 18). This is the fear that drives them into His presence. His eye of perfect discernment both inspires and approves them. Their hope is not in His justice, but in His mercy… He delights in the confessed weakness and failure of a believing heart, and He extends His mercy to them in full.
One writer names what a nation's weapons cannot reach, and what does reach it:
The sword is in the hands of the governing authorities, to punish the one who does evil. But the sword is no protection against spiritual powers… Yes, we may, we must pray. Prayer brings God in. It is the recognition of His supremacy and of our dependence upon Him; it is the right attitude of man towards God.
- Strength named. The horse was the strongest weapon of its day. God warned His people not to trust it.
- Strength forgotten. Solomon wrote that victory belongs to the LORD, and then forgot his own words. The warning is easy to quote and hard to keep.
- Strength exposed. Every kind of created strength fails in the end, and we are slow to learn it.
- Strength surrendered. Verses 16–17 find no rescue at all. Verse 18 finds the eye of the LORD on those who hope in His mercy, not on those who deserve His justice.
- Strength replaced. No weapon reaches spiritual powers. Prayer does, because it recognises His supremacy and our dependence on Him.
Behold, the eye of Jehovah is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his loving-kindness,
Psalm 33 has just stripped away every visible source of safety: armies, strength, war horses. Then it says "Behold," and God's eye settles on people marked out by fear and hope, not power.
Verses 16 and 17 leave nothing standing. One writer follows the psalm's survey of people to its end, and says what it prepares for:
From this safe harbour the world of living men is now reviewed. The LORD Himself regards them. He does not only see them; He looks closely. He is the One who formed them, and He has perfect knowledge of all they do. But the result is only that man's nothingness is once more realised. The host that surrounds a king cannot save him, nor the strength of a hero. Nor can the strength of a horse be enough even to let him escape. But this is only the necessary prelude to another witness to God Himself.
The verse marks its people twice: they fear God, and they hope in His mercy. Older translations read "mercy" where the ESV has "steadfast love." One writer explains each half:
Though no deliverance is found in verses 16 and 17, how blessed is the change in these following verses. Why? Because "the eye of the Lord is on those who fear Him" (v. 18). This is the fear that drives them into His presence. His eye of perfect discernment both inspires and approves them. For their hope is not in His justice, but in His mercy... He delights in the confessed weakness and failure of a believing heart. He extends His mercy to them in full.
Earlier in the psalm God looks down on all people. Here His look becomes personal, and it teaches His people to wait:
He took notice of all that was going on among men as He looked down from heaven. He saw where they put their confidence. But His eye was resting on those who fear Him, on those who hope in His mercy. Not only do they know Him, but He knows them... They are the objects of His care. For a time He allows men to use His creation according to their own plans. Meanwhile His people learn to wait for the Lord as well as to trust in Him — their help and shield.
This is not watching from a distance. One writer lists the ordinary ways that care shows itself:
By His watchful care God shields His people from danger. He sets a bodyguard of angels around them (Ps. 34:7). That same care keeps the very bones of the saints (Ps. 34:20). It bottles their tears (Ps. 56:8). It strengthens the saints in their weakness (Heb. 11:34). It supplies all their needs out of its own basket of gifts (Ps. 23:5)... If God will give His people a kingdom when they die, He will not deny them daily bread while they live.
The same verse worked itself out in one man's life. A writer contrasts King Ahab with the prophet Elijah:
God was against Ahab, so He would make the king feel the full effects of the judicial rod. God was for Elijah, so He would sustain His servant. He would meet his needs by the care of His favour, outside of His own governmental order. One of the Psalms states this principle: "Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him, on those who hope in His steadfast love, to deliver their soul from death and to keep them alive in famine."
People mean very different things by hoping in God's mercy. One writer marks off the psalm's hope from a false one:
What the world calls mercy, when people speak of hoping in the mercy of God, is nothing but indifference to good and evil. It is the hope that God will think as little about sin as I do.
Writers have argued over which future period the psalm's closing verses describe. One of them refuses to fence the verse off from ordinary believers:
Meanwhile let those who love the Lord remember that it is all their own. The practical value of such songs to the believer does not depend on working out exactly which period of God's dealings they belong to.
- Nothing — kings, heroes and horses all prove empty, and that emptiness sets up what comes next.
- Behold — the eye that examines every person on earth rests, with care, on a particular people.
- Fear — not dread that runs away, but the fear that drives a person into His presence.
- Mercy — they hope in His mercy, not His justice. And mercy is not the world's idea that God thinks as little of sin as we do.
- Kept — the care is practical: God sustained Elijah under judgment, and gives His people daily bread while they live.
To deliver their soul from death, and to keep them alive in famine.
This verse tells us what the watching eye of God in verse 18 is for. An army cannot save a king. A horse cannot rescue him. God does two things no one else can: He holds a life back from death, and He carries it through hunger.
The verse comes after a list of the things people trust for safety. One writer runs through that list and shows what it is leading up to.
Not even the army that surrounds a king can save him, nor the strength of a hero. The strength of a horse is not enough to deliver him, even to escape. But this is only the necessary lead-up to another witness to God Himself.
Another writer reads the whole psalm the same way, and names who the deliverance is for.
The psalm celebrates the full deliverance of Israel from every enemy. It makes clear that this deliverance will not come by the plans of man, by victorious armies, or by human strength, but by the Lord Himself.
Two marks describe the people God watches over: they fear Him, and their hope rests on His mercy. One commentator explains both, and says what such a person can expect when he prays.
This is the kind of fear that drives them into His presence. His eye of perfect discernment both inspires and approves them. For their hope is not in His justice, but in His mercy. This is what Jacob depended on when he prayed, "I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and of all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant" (Gen. 32:10). Can God possibly ignore such a prayer? No: He delights in the confessed weakness and failure of a believing heart, and His mercy is fully extended to them.
The verse joins a great deliverance to a daily one. The same writer names each half, and says what it means for a person who admits he has no strength of his own.
It is He alone who delivers their soul from death and keeps them alive when they have no visible means of support (v. 19). So He is both our Saviour and our Preserver. So a person may realise his own utter weakness and depend instead on the strength of God. He may then rightly use the language of the apostle Paul: "For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:10).
One writer lists the ways God's care reaches His people day by day, and ends with an argument from the greater gift to the smaller.
In His providential care God keeps dangers away from His people. He sets a bodyguard of angels around them (Ps. 34:7)… It strengthens the saints in their weakness (Heb. 11:34). It supplies all their wants out of its basket of provision (Ps. 23:5). If God will give His people a kingdom when they die, He will not deny them daily bread while they live.
God keeps His people alive in famine. He does not lift them out of the hard times their nation goes through. Elijah lived under the same drought as the wicked king Ahab, and one writer uses this verse to explain the difference between the two men.
When God disciplines His people in public, even those with no part in the sins that caused it share in the results. So Elijah is subject to the hardships that followed the drought, just as Ahab is. There is, however, an immense difference. God was against Ahab, so He would let the king feel the full weight of the rod of judgment. But God was for Elijah. So He would support His servant and supply his needs by acts of His own favour, outside His usual way of governing.
Naomi's family left the land during a famine and went to Moab. One writer weighs her later complaint against this verse and calls her witness false.
It was false of her to declare that the hand of the Lord was against her. His hand had not led the family to Moab. They turned away by their own choice — away from the land where His hand would have kept their souls alive through the days of famine (see Ps. 33:18-19).
Writers differ over where this psalm sits in prophecy. One of them says that debate does not put its comfort out of reach.
Meanwhile let those who love the Lord remember that it is all their own. The practical value of such songs to the believer does not depend on pinning down exactly which age they describe.
- Nothing — armies, strength and horses all fail first, so the only deliverer left standing is God Himself.
- Notice — His eye rests on those who fear Him and hope in His mercy: fear that runs toward God, hope that appeals to mercy, not justice.
- Rescue — He delivers from death; He is Saviour.
- Ration — He keeps them alive in famine. He is Preserver: the God who gives a kingdom at death will not hold back bread before it.
- Place — God kept Elijah inside the drought. Naomi's family lost the promise by leaving the land where God's hand would have kept them.
Our soul waiteth for Jehovah he is our help and our shield.
Psalm 33 first strips away every human guarantee — armies, heroes, war horses. If nothing created can save, this verse says what a whole people lean on instead.
This verse answers a survey of humanity in which every visible security fails. One writer shows what that failure makes room for.
Jehovah Himself looks at them. He not only sees, He examines closely. He is the One who made them, and He knows perfectly all they do. But the result is only that man's nothingness is once more realized. Not the host that surrounds a king can save him, nor the strength of a hero. Nor, even to escape, can the strength of a horse be enough to deliver him. But this is only the necessary prelude to another witness to God Himself.
Waiting is not doing nothing. One writer names its two parts, and shows why the soul is content with God's timing.
Waiting on God implies dependence and confidence. Both work in such a way that we wait for God's time. We depend, because we cannot do anything without Him, and ought not to; what He does is the only thing the soul desires... It implies confidence too; for why should we wait if God would not come in? ... There is also an active reckoning upon God. But this leaves the soul absolutely and exclusively waiting on Him. It is not active for itself; it waits only upon God.
The two names at the end of the verse — help and shield — meet different needs. One writer ties both to why God takes His time.
If we really depend on God, we shall not be in a rush to get the answers we deeply need. His wisdom works together with His power. He may wisely delay an answer to our problems. So it is essential that we learn the lesson well, "Our soul waits for the LORD" (v. 20). To prove His power, we must learn to wait quietly for His wisdom. In this way He sees fit to test the reality of our faith. Then He proves Himself to be our help to enable us, and our shield to protect us.
Calling God our help means little if we keep something else in reserve.
"Those who wait for Me shall not be put to shame." ... But then we must remember how much is involved in those three words, "wait for Me." The waiting must be a real thing. It will not do to say we are waiting on God, when in reality our eye is glancing sideways at some human prop or creature confidence. We must be absolutely shut up to God. We must be brought to the end of self, and to the bottom of circumstances. Only then do we fully prove what the life of faith is, and what God's resources are. God and the creature can never stand on the same platform. It must be God alone.
Hebrew has more than one word for a shield.
Another word is used for a smaller shield, magen. This is the word that occurs most often in the Old Testament, and especially in the Psalms, for God's protection: Psalm 28:7; Psalm 33:20; Psalm 84:11; Psalm 119:114.
A shield stops what the man behind it never sees.
The ancient warriors used a shield to protect their body from the arrows, spears and darts used in battle. So our God is our shield. How little we know how many dangers we escape every day of our lives because He Himself protects us. We should keep this in mind constantly. I dare say we have all often thought of Peter. Satan had asked to have him, so that he might sift him like wheat, and Peter knew nothing about it. But the Lord's eye was upon him, the eye that never sleeps, and He said, "I have prayed for you."
The "our" belongs to a people who have given up every other claim to strength.
As for all the strength that man has, or has taken for himself, it counts for nothing. They do not trust in it. Their place and state is to "hope in His mercy."
- Emptied. Kings, heroes and horses all fail. Man's nothingness is the necessary prelude to a fresh witness to God Himself.
- Waiting. To wait is dependence plus confidence. We can do nothing without Him, and we expect Him to come in, so we wait for His time.
- Helped. The wait must be real. An eye glancing sideways at a human prop cancels it. God and the creature never stand on the same platform.
- Shielded. Magen is the Psalms' regular word for God's protection. Most of the danger it turns aside we never learn about.
- Together. It is "our soul" — a company that has written off every other strength. Their whole place and state is hope in His mercy.
For in him shall our heart rejoice, because we have confided in his holy name.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Let thy loving-kindness, O Jehovah, be upon us, according as we have hoped in thee.
The psalm ends with a request, not a claim: the singers have praised the Creator whose plans stand when man's fail, and now they ask that His steadfast love rest on them. Why would a song this confident close by asking for anything — and what does "as we hope in you" measure?
The request comes at the end of a long celebration. One writer traces what the whole psalm has been building toward.
Psalm 33 celebrates the full result of deliverance. It calls the upright to rejoice. Jehovah's character, His word and His works, stand out clearly, and the earth is now full of His goodness. He is the glorious Creator. The earth is to fear Him. All man's plans and schemes come to nothing before Him, while His own plan stands... His eye is on those who fear Him and hope in His mercy. So the great result of Jehovah's action is set before the faith of the remnant, sung as if it had all already come. The last three verses show the confidence this produces in them.
The prayer rests on nothing the singers can supply themselves. What they stand on is of a completely different kind.
Whatever strength man has, or has taken for himself, counts for nothing. They do not trust in it. To "hope in His mercy" is their place and their state (Psalm 33:18-22).
The writers quoted here use the older word "mercy" where the ESV says "steadfast love." The prayer could have appealed to God's justice. It does not — and one writer sets Jacob's prayer beside it.
For their hope is not in His justice, but in His mercy. It was this that Jacob depended on when he prayed, "I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies and of all the truth which You have shown Your servant" (Gen. 32:10). Can God possibly ignore such a prayer? No: He delights in the confessed weakness and failure of a believing heart and His mercy is fully extended to them.
Hope in God involves waiting for Him. That wait is not empty time. God uses it to test faith.
If we really depend on God, we will not rush Him for the answers we badly need, because His wisdom works together with His power. He may have wise reasons to delay an answer to our problems, so we must learn this lesson well: "Our soul waits for the Lord" (v. 20). To prove His power, we must first learn to wait quietly for His wisdom. This is how He chooses to test whether our faith is real. Then He proves Himself our help to strengthen us and our shield to protect us.
The request sets a measure: "as we hope in you." The same writer explains what the hope and the mercy each carry.
As he bows to Him, the psalmist asks for what he is confident God will answer: "Let Your mercy, O Lord, be upon us, just as we hope in You." This hope is not doubtful in any way. It is a hope that is "sure and steadfast" (Heb. 6:19) — the confident expectation of unfailing blessing to come. And His mercy is the compassion of His care in every circumstance we are in now.
Another writer hears the same closing line as an appeal to God's faithfulness in the way He governs.
The experience that proves this is told briefly, but it is enough: "for our heart is glad in Him; because we have trusted in His holy Name." Then they call on the faithfulness of God's government: "Let Your mercy, Jehovah, be upon us, as we hope in You."
Writers read this song as the voice of a faithful remnant of Israel in a coming day. One writer offers his own suggestion and then sets it aside for something more important.
But that is only a suggestion about how the Psalm may point forward. Meanwhile, let those who love the Lord remember that it is all their own. Songs like this are of practical value to the believer whether or not he pins down the exact period they belong to.
One writer names what God is after in all this, and where it should lead us.
He would have His people happy in the knowledge of Himself... We ought to know our God still better, viewing the cross of Christ in the light of His heavenly glory.
- Hope replaces strength. Human strength counts for nothing here. Hoping in His mercy is where the believer stands.
- Hope chooses mercy. The appeal is not to what justice owes but to the compassion God extends to a heart that owns its weakness.
- Hope waits. His wisdom may delay the answer, and it is in that waiting that He proves Himself help and shield.
- Hope is certain. The psalmist asks for what he is sure God will give. His hope is sure and steadfast, and God's government is faithful.
- Hope sings. The song belongs first to a delivered remnant. Yet everyone who loves the Lord may make it their own and go on knowing Him better.
([A Psalm] of David; when he changed his behaviour before Abimelech, who drove him away, and he departed.) I will bless Jehovah at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.
David wrote this psalm after a low point: he fled to enemy territory at Gath and escaped only by pretending to be insane. Out of that disgrace comes a promise to praise God "at all times" — how does a hunted man get there?
One writer sets the psalm beside the failure behind it. David's rescue was mercy, not reward. ("Jehovah" is the name the ESV writes as "the LORD.")
The title tells us that David wrote the thirty-fourth psalm when he escaped from Gath, from Achish, who is here called Abimelech. That seems to have been a common title of the Philistine kings. He had failed badly, as we know, and as he always did on Philistine ground. He did not honour Jehovah, and so he was not honoured by Him... Yet God in mercy delivered him, and no doubt he learned a lesson from it for the time.
Another writer names what drove David there, and what the rescue did to him:
He had acted in unbelief and unbelief was dragging him down lower and lower. Instead of fleeing to God, he turned to Gath. And then for self-preservation, because he had been discovered, he pretended to be mad. The king of Gath drove him away. The Lord was far better than his fears. The gracious deliverance set his heartstrings vibrating with praise.
The words "at all times" mark the gap between easy praise and tested faith:
The thirty-fourth Psalm presents the experience by which a godly man learnt to bless the LORD at all times. It is easy to bless the Lord sometimes, when circumstances are favourable. But only faith that has proved His goodness and faithfulness can bless the Lord at all times. Lifted above all circumstances like that, he praises the Lord "continually."
The promise rests on something David had already lived through. One writer finds the reason later in the same psalm, and sets it beside Paul, who wrote about joy from a prison cell:
"Rejoice in the Lord always." It certainly could not be in his circumstances, for he was a prisoner... It is just as in Psalm 34: "I will bless Jehovah at all times, his praise shall continually be in my mouth." Why? "This poor man cried, and Jehovah heard him, and delivered him out of all his troubles." "I sought Jehovah, and he heard me." This is what enabled him to say, "I will bless Jehovah at all times." He had been in trouble, and God had heard him in his trouble.
One writer traces this praise back to a will that no longer fights its hard lot:
The praise of this psalm flows from a saint whose will has been broken. He has faced fears (v. 4). His way may have been dark (v. 5). Troubles surrounded him (vv. 6-7), and even need (vv. 9-10). But he had a broken and contrite spirit, so his will was not secretly rebelling in thought against his hard lot. So there is no irritation and anger — the sure sign of self-will. And so he finds the Lord better than all his fears.
The second half of the verse presses the point further. If praise is continual, the usual alternatives are crowded out:
It is not just now and then. It is not only when all is bright and cheery around us, when everything runs smoothly and well. No — it is "at all times… continually". The stream of thanksgiving is to flow without a break. There is no gap for murmuring and complaining, for fretting or discontent, for gloom or despair.
One writer hears the same words on the lips of Christ, and then asks what such praise does to the people around it:
If we follow the Lord along His pathway, we find Him saying in one of the darkest days of His life, "I thank you, Father... for such was your gracious will" (Matthew 11:25-27). He could truly say: "I will bless the Lord at all times. His praise shall continually be in my mouth." There is nothing so refreshing as to meet a praising saint. A mourning saint, or a murmuring saint, does not do you any good, but a praiseful saint, full of the goodness of the Lord, and the delight of what the Lord is — if you meet with such a saint — he leaves his impression on you.
- Failure first. David fled to Gath and faked madness. This praise rises from a man who had failed, not from a man who had performed.
- Mercy answered. He cried, God heard him, God rescued him. That rescue — not easy circumstances — is what let him say "at all times".
- Will broken. Continual praise flows from a broken and contrite spirit. Where self-will is silent, trouble does not turn into irritation and anger.
- No gaps. "Continually" leaves no room for murmuring, fretting or gloom. The stream of thanksgiving runs unbroken.
- Others refreshed. Christ thanked His Father on His darkest days. A murmuring believer does nobody any good, but a praising one leaves his mark on everyone he meets.
My soul shall make its boast in Jehovah the meek shall hear, and rejoice.
David wrote this psalm after a low point in his own life, and his first move is not to talk about himself but to boast in the Lord. That raises two questions. How can boasting ever be good, and why does it make the humble glad instead of annoying them?
Boasting usually repels people, especially the modest. One commentator points out that the word used here has a different flavour, and that it makes the humble glad.
Most boasting is hateful, especially to "the humble." But they are glad to hear it when we boast in the Lord... The word translated "boast" has the thought of "Joyous Exultation."
Everything else a person could boast in may fail. Boasting in the Lord is different: it puts the most unlikely pair on the same footing.
Wealth, social position, human ability, may fail us; but the Lord can be trusted at all times. Moreover, to glory in the Lord is to take ground on which all the saints can be together... Peter was an ignorant and unlearned man. Paul was well-born and learned. Both stand on common ground, and on the highest ground, when each can say, "My soul makes its boast in the LORD." To boast in poverty or ignorance would be only a pose; to boast in wealth or learning would be only vanity.
This psalm has a failure behind it. David had been deceiving a king named Abimelech, and that history shapes the boast.
While he was deceiving Abimelech, David was certainly not blessing the Lord. But at least now he could say this truthfully. The Lord had used his failure to bring about blessing in the end, as He does for all believers when they judge themselves. David's soul, not only his intelligence, made its boast in the Lord. When those who were humble in heart heard this they would be glad, for such dealings of God encourage the humble... For God certainly receives glory when He forgives.
The second half of the verse assumes someone is listening. That is where its force lies. Joy in God carries most weight when the circumstances should have crushed it.
Look at the effect of this boasting. It is very impressive. There is nothing impresses people like this. It may be a testimony that produces hatred, but there is no testimony so powerful. Look at the sixteenth chapter of Acts. Two captive servants of Christ are in a foul Roman prison, with their feet locked in the stocks. With bleeding backs, cold and hungry, they "prayed and sang praises to God, and the prisoners heard them"... How could these men be so bright and joyful under such depressing circumstances? What was the secret? It was their joy in the Lord.
Not everyone welcomes such talk. The verse names the one group that is glad to hear it, and gives the reason why.
There is a testimony in praise like this, which will be felt. No doubt, it will awaken opposition; but that is not what is spoken of here: it is that the humble will hear, and be glad. "No flesh shall glory in His presence," and we need to be brought low like this before we can receive a testimony of that kind.
One writer hears more than David in these words. He reads the psalm as Christ's own song of praise, applied to comfort the tried remnant — the faithful few in Israel in a coming day.
In Psalm 34 He takes up the song of praise for the faithfulness of the Lord... His soul makes its boast in the Lord — the humble should hear and be glad... Whatever glory came out of it — glory seen in Psalm 21, and known even better by us — He applies it to the comfort of the tried remnant in that day. So they may bless the Lord at all times, even in trial and when they seem abandoned.
- Object. The verse does not ban boasting; it redirects it. Wealth, position and ability may fail, but the Lord can be trusted at all times.
- Tone. The word carries the sense of joyous exultation. Ordinary boasting repels the humble; boasting in the Lord makes them glad.
- Source. The boast comes from the soul, not just the mind. In David's case it came after failure, because God receives glory when He forgives.
- Reach. Such praise is always overheard. Two prisoners singing in the stocks show a testimony that opposition cannot match for power.
- Result. No flesh can glory in God's presence, so the humble are the ones who receive this testimony. Boasting in the Lord puts a Peter and a Paul on the same ground.
Magnify Jehovah with me, and let us exalt his name together.
David wrote this psalm after a failure: he had deceived a foreign king, and God brought blessing out of it anyway. Now he refuses to praise alone, which raises two questions: what does it mean to make the LORD great, and why does praise look for company?
One writer traces how that failure turned into a call for others to join in:
While he was deceiving Abimelech, David was not blessing the Lord. But now he could say it truthfully. The Lord had used his failure to bring about blessing in the end, as He does for all believers when they judge themselves… So David invited them to magnify the Lord with him and exalt His name together (v. 3). There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. In the same way, David expects others to share in his praise to God, now that he has repented of his sad failure. For God is glorified when He forgives.
To magnify someone is to show that he is great. One writer traces the word into places nobody would call religious work:
In Acts 19:17 the Name of the Lord was magnified in Ephesus: it was shown to be great and mighty. And Christ can still be magnified today, in the body of the humblest and weakest believer, because His strength is made perfect in weakness. We can magnify Christ by praise, by prayer, and by witness to Him… Yes, we can magnify Christ even in our daily work in the house, the shop, the office, or the care of the children, just as much as those whose feet carry the Gospel of peace.
Why does the psalm say His name, and not just "Him"? One writer answers that, and links it to what the psalm records next:
A heart full of praise will look for others to share it. His Name will be a common joy, for His Name is the revelation of Himself. After the call to magnify His Name comes the experience that gives the call its text, so to speak. The living God had heard him, answered him, and delivered him from all his fears.
Another writer sees the same reach for company, and an order in the way God helps:
Now the soul looks for fellowship. It wants others in its company… I think the Lord often works to deliver us from our fears before He delivers us from our foes. Here is a man whom God delivered from the fear of the trouble before He delivered him from the trouble.
Boasting in anything but the Lord, one writer argues, has the opposite effect:
This lowly spirit, which glories only in the Lord, is what draws the saints together. So the Psalmist adds at once, "Oh, magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together!" The believer who boasts in his wealth, or intellect, or birth is trying to magnify himself, and to that extent he divides the Lord's people. Empty pride that seeks to magnify self lies behind so much division among the people of God.
The positive result is a shared centre rather than merely a shared mood:
We thus learn that the humble spirit, that blesses the Lord at all times, boasts only in the Lord, and exalts His name, will draw the saints to one another with the Lord as their gathering centre and bond of fellowship.
Several writers hear more than David here. One reads the whole psalm as the voice of Christ teaching those God has given Him:
Set aside its reference to David for a moment, and this Psalm is a remarkable word from the Spirit of Christ. We seem to hear the blessed Lord speaking directly to the children whom God has given Him (Heb. 2:13). He explains to them the name and ways of Jehovah, using His own experience as the gracious illustration (verse 11). Jesus is the teacher of His people's praise (verse 3).
Another writer hears "together" as the fixed pattern of redeemed praise:
His glory is the tongue of redeeming praise, and how loud it speaks! Glory now bears witness to redemption, and His word is: "Oh, magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together!" Always together!
- Together, after failure. David calls others into praise after his own failure and repentance. God's forgiveness glorifies Him, so praise for it should be shared, not hidden.
- Together, not alone. A heart full of praise looks for company. His name is the revelation of Himself, so it becomes a joy held in common.
- Together, in daily life. Preaching is not the only way to make the Lord great. The house, the shop, the office and the care of children magnify Him too.
- Together, only in lowliness. Boasting in wealth, intellect or birth magnifies self and divides God's people. Glorying in the Lord alone draws them together.
- Together, led by Christ. Commentators hear Christ in this psalm as the teacher of His people's praise. His word is always "together."
I sought Jehovah, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
They looked unto him, and were enlightened, and their faces were not confounded.
Psalm 34 is David's song of praise after God rescued him from danger. Verse 5 turns from his own story to everyone who looks to God as he did. Who are these people, what light do they receive, and why will their faces never be ashamed?
The verse sits inside a run of personal trouble. One writer traces that trouble:
The first three verses set out the great theme of the Psalm. Now the Psalmist goes on to tell the experience that taught him to bless the Lord at all times and lift up His Name. This God-fearing man found himself in circumstances full of dread (4). His way seemed dark (5). His troubles piled up (6).
The light comes from who God is. And this is not only about the moment someone first believes:
The sure effect of the soul having to do with God is that it is enlightened. I am not talking of conversion now. It is true the soul is enlightened when it is converted, but here it is more in the pathway. It is a principle of the deepest importance. If you and I look to the Lord, what will be the effect? He will give us light. Why? Because God is light.
Looking is not a technique with power of its own. The object it rests on does the work:
There is not a troubled conscience in the Christian world that would not find peace by looking to that same blessed object. Not a doubting heart that would not be settled. Not a weary soul that would not find rest. Not a lost soul that would not find salvation... But the power — the healing power — is not in the looking, the coming, the hearing, or the believing. It is all in the object: the heavenly Christ, the man in the glory. When the eye rests on Him as its one object, all doubts and darkness flee away.
Someone who knows his own guilt expects shame when he looks up. The opposite happens:
Shame fills the face of the self-conscious sinner as he lifts his eyes to look upon his Saviour. But one view of that all-gracious Presence turns his shame to confidence and joy. For God's light shines forth in peace upon him from that face. The pure intensity of perfect love is there.
Wolston makes the same promise practical. He notes that David had plenty in his history to hang his head over, and adds: "you will never hang your head when you look at Him."
The plural "those" matters. This is not a special experience for a few:
There is first of all in it light, for God is light. Things appear as they are, and we learn to recognize them — to have truth in the inward parts, and to be certain about the way. And this is not an exceptional experience — it is the universal rule for those that look to Him. They are enlightened; and their faces are never "ashamed." Confusion in a person's thoughts and ways leads to a confused face as the result. Where the soul really seeks God, that confusion is impossible. So God has made provision for the simplest and poorest, in the middle of all the babble of voices the world hears.
One writer links this shining face to joy that cannot stay hidden. He quotes the verse in an older translation:
Joy is the second of the fruits of the Spirit, and anyone the Spirit leads will never find it tiresome to speak of that joy. Out of the fullness of the heart the mouth speaks. If the joy of the Lord fills our hearts, it must show in our speech, and our very faces will be lit up by it. "They looked to Him, and were radiant" (Ps. 34:5).
One writer stretches the promise back over the whole history of faith:
Christ is the One revealed by God and revealing Him to make this knowledge good in all who believe. Ever since sin came into the world, all the saints have looked to Him. They were given light, and their faces will never be put to shame.
- Look — the eye is the whole action; the healing power is not in the looking but in the object looked at.
- Light — God is light, so He gives light to the one who looks, and things appear as they really are.
- Everyone — not a rare experience but the universal rule, with room for the simplest and poorest.
- Unashamed — one view of that gracious Presence turns shame into confidence and joy.
- Radiant — the light does not stay inside; hearts flooded with the joy of the Lord show it in speech and in the face.
This afflicted one called, and Jehovah heard [him], and saved him out of all his troubles.
David wrote this psalm after one of the lowest moments of his life, when he escaped a foreign king by pretending to be insane. Looking back, he sums up the rescue in one line, and leaves us asking who this "poor man" really is.
The psalm's heading ties it to that escape. One writer draws the lesson from David's failed plan; the king he ran to is called both Abimelech and Achish.
Psalm 34 was composed "when [David] changed his behaviour before Abimelech, who drove him away, and he departed." This psalm celebrates the Lord's tender care of the believer under trial. It also expresses David's confidence, which flowed from this: in his affliction, God had taken his cause in hand. This man of God, in seeking help from Achish, had had only a broken reed in his hand. Now, taught by God, he can say: "I sought the LORD, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears."
The word does not describe David's bank balance. It describes what he had come to know about himself.
In verse 6 David refers to himself as being a poor man who cried out in his distress. "The LORD heard him and saved him out of all his troubles." For he fully realised two things: he was helpless to save himself, and the Lord alone was able to deliver him.
The same word shapes other passages too. One writer wants that lowly place for himself.
Every reading of the Psalm brings out the meaning and value of this term. It gives its force to Matthew 5, and Luke, and Psalm 41: "considers the poor." "This poor man cried." It is full of instruction to us. Oh! may we know the poor and lowly place in every way — Christ's place!
Commentators differ on how far the verse reaches beyond David. One writer hears a second voice in it.
"This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him and saved him out of all his troubles" (Ps. 34:6). What poor man was that? Of course David was the writer of the Psalm, but I have no doubt that that "poor man" was Christ. You will find in His pathway here He was always turning to God. It does not follow that there will always be deliverance from circumstances. That is not the point. In a world of evil we must never forget that righteousness may suffer, but God governs… He is now exalted in glory. That is God's answer to the cry of His blessed and holy soul all through His pathway here.
The verse does not promise a small rescue. Notice how one writer stacks up the word "all".
He then tells us the result. He says, "The LORD delivered me from all my fears." The Lord gave him light for his path, and saved him out of "all his troubles." He also found that, though men opposed him, unseen angelic power guarded him. If then the Lord delivers this lowly man from "all" his fears, and "all" his troubles, he may well bless the Lord at "all times."
Continual praise is not the fruit of an easy life. One writer ties this verse to Paul, who called for joy while he sat in prison.
"Rejoice in the Lord always." His joy could not be in his circumstances, for he was a prisoner. Christians are often a great deal happier in the trial than in thinking about it. In the trial they learn far more of the stability, the certainty, the nearness and the power of Christ, and they are happier… This was what enabled [David] to say, "I will bless the LORD at all times." He had been in trouble, and the Lord had heard him in his trouble… Grace is enough for favourable circumstances, but those circumstances are by far the most trying (spiritually) to the believer.
An answered cry becomes words for other people to pray. The same writer applies this verse to the remnant — God's faithful people in a future time of great distress.
What a wonderful provision God has made for the comfort of the remnant in that day! Suppose them reading these words! Christ made the atonement, and He has put words into their mouths. Those words express their cry for them and speak of their sins. They will say, "This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him." That will encourage them to think He will hear them.
- Poor first. God hears the man who has stopped trying to save himself and admits the Lord alone can deliver.
- Cried, not managed. David's own scheming before a foreign king left him holding a broken reed; the crying is what worked.
- Heard, then saved. Deliverance was not partial. It covered "all his fears" and "all his troubles" — so the psalm can promise praise "at all times."
- Christ's place. The lowly place the poor man takes is the place Christ Himself took; His exaltation is God's answer to His cry.
- Passed on. David's answered cry becomes words in other mouths. It tells the next sufferer that God will hear too.
The angel of Jehovah encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them.
David wrote this psalm after a low point in his life — he had run to Gath, the enemy's city, and escaped only by pretending to be insane. Out of that shame comes one of the most confident promises in the Psalms — but who is this angel, what does "encamps" picture, and who stands inside the circle?
David's conduct at Gath was nothing to boast about, which makes the praise that follows all the more striking.
He was in the wrong place, so he resorted to wrong actions. But he no doubt had confessed and judged this failure before God. Otherwise he could not have written this psalm the way he did. In His wise government God dealt faithfully with David and made him feel the shame of what he had done. At the same time He showed the grace of His heart by drawing him to bless the Lord.
The verb is military. It implies more than a lone guard — and defence is not the whole of what this angel does.
The word "encamps" suggests that the angel of the Lord is supported by an army of helpers. The next psalm includes a prayer that the angel of the Lord might chase David's enemies. So he does not only give defensive help and deliverance, as we have seen. He also acts against the enemy.
Commentators differ here. Some read "the angel of the LORD" as a title of Christ Himself:
Generally, if not always, the name "the angel of the Lord" refers to the Lord Jesus Himself. He is above all others the angel, or messenger, of God, as Malachi 3:1 declares.
Others read it as a promise that angels guard God's people. One writer points to the prophet Elisha, whose protection was real before anyone could see it.
Angels are the divine guardians of God's people... The history of Elisha illustrates this guardian care. Enemies surrounded him at Dothan, and his servant was terrified. Elisha says, "Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them." In answer to prayer, the Lord opened the young man's eyes. He saw that the whole mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire around Elisha (2 Kings 6:17). Elisha had already come to them by faith; the young man came to them by sight.
David's own rescue was real, not just relief from his fears. From it he draws a rule for everyone who fears God.
In his poverty he had been heard and delivered — not just from his fears, but in fact. He goes further: the angel of Jehovah camps around those who fear Jehovah. This is deliverance from all that may come, from any direction.
The same protection appears in Acts, where a prison could not hold the apostles. (The ESV reads "an angel of the Lord" in Acts 5:19; the older translation quoted here has "the angel of the Lord.")
What a remarkable statement — and what an immense comfort for the soul to feel that it has angelic walls, so to speak, around it. If you fear the Lord, you are encamped in a safe place... Take the apostles in Acts chapter 5: "the high priest rose up, and all who were with him... and filled with jealousy they arrested the apostles and put them in the public prison. But during the night an angel of the Lord opened the prison doors and brought them out" (Acts 5:17-19).
The promise belongs to those who fear the Lord. That fear means honour and reverence, not dread.
We have been told, "Blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him." Now that trust must show itself in fearing Him. It means giving Him the place of dignity and honour that produces a true reverential fear, with none of the casual, unsubdued attitude that is common among men.
What moved David was not merely that things worked out. It was that God took a personal interest in a humbled man.
This is not high and sovereign providence making things run smoothly for outward blessing — though no doubt we should be thankful for that. It is the gracious interest of Jehovah in his tried heart. This is much nearer, the interest greater, the link more sweet and stronger. There was no pride of will in trial or in success. Here was a crushed and humble heart, finding Jehovah's ear and heart open to it.
- Cause — David failed at Gath. God let him feel the shame, then drew him to praise.
- Camp — "Encamps" is army language: a guard pitched on every side, able to defend and to drive off the enemy.
- Christ or angel — commentators differ. Some read "the angel of the LORD" as the Lord Jesus; others see the angel care that guarded Elisha.
- Cover — the circle has no opening, so the deliverance covers all that may come, from any direction.
- Condition — the promise is for those who fear the Lord, who give Him His rightful place.
Taste and see that Jehovah is good blessed is the man that trusteth in him!
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Fear Jehovah, ye his saints; for there is no want to them that fear him.
Psalm 34 is David's song after God rescued him from real danger. At verse 9 he stops telling his own story and presses an appeal on others: who are "His saints," and how can "no lack" be true for people who go through hardship?
The call is not theory. It came out of a low point in David's life.
When David returned in disgrace from the land of the Philistines, where he had unwisely looked for refuge from Saul (1 Sam. 21:10-15), he wrote Psalm 34, possibly in the seclusion of the cave of Adullam, where he recovered faith in his God. In this song of praise he celebrates his deliverance. He speaks of the graciousness of Jehovah to the needy and the afflicted. He calls all those who were in distress and in debt (see 1 Sam. 22:2) to test Him for themselves.
Verse 9 does not stand alone. The verses on either side belong with it.
You will find there are three things here. There is fearing the Lord, trusting the Lord, and seeking the Lord. In the eighth verse it is, "Blessed is the man who trusts in Him." In the ninth verse, "Those who fear Him have no lack." And in the tenth verse, "Those who seek the Lord shall not lack any good thing." This is a moral set of holy principles that keep the heart always in blessed touch with God.
Verse 8 invites anyone at all to taste and see. Verse 9 speaks to a smaller circle, with the same urgency.
Verse 8 speaks to everyone, with the urgent opening word, "Oh." Now the psalm speaks just as urgently to believers: "Oh, fear the LORD, you His saints, for those who fear Him have no lack!" (v. 9). We have been told, "Blessed is the man who trusts in Him." That trust now shows itself in fearing Him. We give Him the place of dignity and honour, and that produces a true reverential fear, with none of the casual, unsubdued attitude common among men.
The word behind "saints" here is not about moral achievement. It means set apart for God.
qadosh, 'consecrated, set apart, holy.' Deut. 33:3; Ps. 16:3; Ps. 34:9; Dan. 7:18-27; Zech. 14:5.
Fear here is not terror. It is the settled attitude of someone who takes God seriously and shares His view of evil.
This fear of the Lord is not the slavish dread that marks the superstitious. No. It is a reverent trustfulness accompanied by hatred of evil. "The fear of the Lord is to hate evil" (Prov. 8:13). "The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever." Where this fear is kept up, the presence of the Lord is a reality and a joy.
That reverence is not distance. No one comes nearer than God Himself.
The blessedness is infinite and divine in its nature, like the One who is its source. Yet it is as intimate as anything in the heart can be — more intimate than any human being who does not have it. We dwell in Him, and the Lord is our stay and the rest of our heart. There is nothing like it. No one can be so intimately near us as God; for He is in us.
The promise does not remove hardship. It guarantees supply within it.
The Psalmist has experienced the goodness of the Lord. So he calls his brothers to "taste and see that the LORD is good," and in that way to realise the blessedness of the man who trusts in the Lord and walks in His fear. Such people will find, in a world like this, that they may have many needs, but they will never be in want.
David lived under a different arrangement with God than we do. That does not date the promise.
The principles of God's government of His people do not change. When David wrote Psalm 34, it was the age of law and God's people were in the place of servants. Today is the age of grace and we are before God as His sons, as Galatians 3:23 – 4:7 shows. Yet the apostle Peter can quote David's words from Psalm 34 as applying equally to us.
- Tasted first. David speaks from rescue, not theory — he calls the distressed to test God as he did.
- Then set apart. "Saints" means consecrated, set apart ones; verse 9 calls people who already belong to God.
- Then reverent. The fear called for is reverent trustfulness that hates evil, not dread — and it goes with an intimacy nothing human can match.
- Then supplied. Those who fear Him may have many needs, but they will never be in want; the chain runs trust, fear, seek.
- Still true. God's way of governing His people has not changed. Peter quotes this psalm for believers now.
The young lions are in need and suffer hunger; but they that seek Jehovah shall not want any good.
David wrote this psalm after a narrow escape from the Philistines, and here he sets the strongest hunter in nature beside the person who seeks God. That raises a question many readers feel: if seekers lack no good thing, why do believers so often go without what they asked for?
One writer places this psalm at a low point in David's life, after David ran to the wrong place for safety and then gathered the desperate around him:
When David returned in disgrace from the land of the Philistines, where he had unwisely sought refuge from Saul (1 Sam. 21:10-15), he wrote Psalm 34. He may have written it in the quiet of the cave of Adullam, where he recovered faith in his God. In this song of praise, he remembers his deliverance and praises the graciousness of Jehovah to the needy and the afflicted. He calls on all those who were in distress and in debt (see 1 Sam. 22:2) to test Him for themselves.
Verse 10 is the last of three linked statements, and each names a different attitude of heart:
You will find there are three things here. There is fearing the Lord, trusting the Lord, and seeking the Lord. Verse eight says, "Blessed is the man who trusts in Him." Verse nine says, "Those who fear Him have no lack." Verse ten says, "Those who seek the LORD lack no good thing." This is a moral set of holy principles that keeps the heart always in blessed touch with God.
The comparison is chosen with care. David names the animal nothing else can frighten, then shows even that animal going hungry:
The Lord is the One who meets the soul in every possible circumstance. He uses the lions as an illustration, because the lion is the master of creation. The lion "is mightiest among beasts and does not turn back before any" (Prov. 30:30). Despite that, even lions can go hungry.
Another writer draws out what the lion's hunger exposes about strength — and who decides what counts as good:
Even "the young lions suffer want and hunger" — their strength is not enough to supply their needs. But those who seek the Lord in dependence on Him will not lack anything that is good for them. Of course, it is the Lord who decides what is good.
This answers the objection almost every honest reader raises. The verse ties the promise to a Person, not to the things we ask for:
Now there is perhaps a little difficulty for some here. You say, I have sought a good many things, but I did not get them. It does not say in our Psalm that they sought the things; it says they sought the Lord. We all of us would like many things which we regard as good for us. But before long we shall be thankful that we did not have them. It has been the curse of many a saint's life that he obtained what he longed for at some time. The coveted thing was not good; but determination laid hold of it. If God withholds something you have desired, be sure it was not good for you. Then your heart will say to Him: "Blessed be Your name. I am sure it was not good for me, Lord."
Others make the same point in a single line — the word "good" belongs to God's judgement, not ours.
What we lack sometimes may not be good for us to have.
The promise does not remove hardship. One commentator holds both sides together as the psalmist passes on what he learned:
Such people will find, in a world like this, that they may have many needs, but they will never go without. The Psalmist had sought the Lord and had been blessed. Now he can say to others, "those who seek the LORD lack no good thing."
Some ask whether an Old Testament promise still applies. The New Testament settles it by quoting this very psalm:
The principles of God's government of His people do not change. When David wrote Psalm 34, it was the age of law and God's people were in the place of servants. Today is the age of grace and we are before God as His sons, as Galatians 3:23 – 4:7 shows. Yet the apostle Peter can quote David's words from Psalm 34 as applying equally to us.
- Strength fails. The lion is the strongest of beasts, yet it still goes hungry. Raw power cannot secure its own supply.
- Dependence holds. The lion's strength cannot feed it. The one who leans on God receives, because God supplies, not the creature.
- Seek Him, not it. God gives this promise to those who seek Him, not to those who seek things. That one difference answers most disappointment in prayer.
- He defines "good." If God holds something back, He has judged that it was not good for you. Many a believer's life has been spoiled by getting what he insisted on.
- Need is not lack. The believer will have many needs, yet will never go without. Peter applies the same promise to Christians today.
Come, ye sons, hearken unto me I will teach you the fear of Jehovah.
Up to this point Psalm 34 is testimony: a man telling what God did for him in trouble. Now the voice turns and calls for pupils — so who are these "children," and what is this "fear of the LORD"?
Commentators differ on whose voice this is. One traces the changing speakers through the psalm:
The prophetic declaration is in verse 5; then the Spirit takes up from verse 6, I think, to verse 10. In verse 11 David speaks again, in person.
Others hear a greater voice behind David's:
Considered quite apart from its reference to David, this Psalm is a remarkable utterance of the Spirit of Christ. We seem to hear the blessed Lord immediately addressing the children whom God has given Him (Heb. 2:13), and explaining to them, by the gracious illustration of His own experience, the name and ways of the LORD (verse 11). Jesus is the teacher of His people's praise (verse 3).
The word is not chosen because the audience is young. It marks the posture a learner has to take before anything can be taught.
David addresses "children" in verse 11. Those who take the children's place are the teachable ones. The Lord implies this in Matthew 18:3: "Unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." For it is in that kingdom that we become learners. "I will teach you," not the deep truths of Scripture, but "the fear of the LORD." Without this we shall never learn the deep truths of the word of God. But the fear of the LORD means realizing His holiness, and we need that to keep us in our place.
The lesson is not how to be afraid of God. It is the opposite of a heart that shrinks back from Him.
Without this you cannot progress in practical holiness, or sanctification... This is not the condition, the state of heart that keeps back from the Lord. It is the path of progress — not of the backslider. Another writer — Solomon — says, "Blessed is the one who fears the LORD always" (Prov. 28:14). This is not the fear of judgment and wrath. It is that holy and blessed fear in the soul, which the Spirit of God always produces — a fear that we might fail to walk in everything in a way that pleases Him.
This one fear crowds out two others — the fear of what people think, and the dread of God as a judge:
How necessary it is, then, to make the fear of God a habit! There is nothing right where this fails. The holy fear of God shuts out every dishonouring fear of man, and all tormenting fear of God. We know His majesty, His holiness, and His righteous character; and we know also that He loves us beyond a father's love.
The next verses spell the lesson out, and it starts with the mouth.
As supreme over all, the fear of Him is for His creature the "beginning of wisdom."... We are in His hands, and He will have His way; but His goodness will make us glad that He does. "The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever;" and the psalmist now proposes to instruct men in this fear. If a man wants life, and to see good days, here is the divine preservative for him. Let him keep, then, his tongue from evil, and his lips from speaking deceit. For "out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks," and the government of the tongue is the sign of the perfect man. (Luke 6:45, James 3:2.) Let him order his walk so as to depart from evil — the negative side — and do good — the positive. Let him seek peace thus, as "the effect of righteousness" (Isa. 32:17), and earnestly "pursue it."
Peter quotes these verses to readers living long after David. The lesson was never tied to one age.
The principles of God's government of His people do not change. When David wrote Psalm 34, it was the age of law and God's people were in the place of servants. Today is the age of grace and we are before God as His sons... Yet the apostle Peter can quote David's words from Psalm 34 as applying equally to us. We reap what we sow in the government of God; and the way to "see good" is to "do good"... Many a disagreeable event in our lives is clearly the result of our own disagreeableness. If we sowed more good we should reap more good.
- Come — the teacher calls learners to himself, and he teaches out of what he has proved of God's ways.
- Children — the place of a child is the place of a learner, and only those who take it can be taught.
- Fear — not terror of wrath, but a holy care never to displease the One who loves us beyond a father's love. It drives out the fear of man and the dread of God as judge.
- Taught — this fear is not instinctive but learned, and without it the deeper truths of God's word stay closed to us.
- Lived — the lesson starts with the tongue, then the walk: turn from evil, do good, pursue peace. It still stands, because God's government of His people has not changed.
What man is he that desireth life, [and] loveth days, that he may see good?
Here David turns from praising God to teaching. He asks a question nobody refuses: who does not want life, long days, and good? The answer he gives starts in a surprising place.
David's question is not theory. He had tried deception himself, and it gained him nothing.
He also learned from experience that deception and lying could not get good: "What man is there who desires life and loves many days, that he may see good? Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit" (vv. 12-13).
Verse 12 sits inside a block of teaching. David opens it by calling children to listen while he teaches them the fear of the Lord.
From verses eleven to sixteen, I think, the Psalmist gives us beautiful instruction about the secret of a happy, growing, blessed life. He says, "Come, you children, listen to me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord" (Ps. 34:11). The first part of the Psalm says a good deal about the fear of the Lord. Now he explains it fully to us. One verse in an earlier Psalm is very instructive here. "The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever" (Ps. 19:9). I think that gives you the keynote of the passage as regards the fear of the Lord. Without this you cannot make progress in practical holiness, or sanctification.
The word "life" in this verse is not about a pulse. It means life worth having.
When we think or speak of life in a practical way, everyone will admit that we do not mean simply the fact that we are alive. What is life to a criminal shut up in a solitary cell? It is true that he is as much alive as if he were free and among his family; but in the practical sense, is his "life" the same? Would he not describe his prison life as a living death?
The verse asks a question, and the verse after it names the price. The good days are real, but they are attached.
Do we desire life — the life that is vital, spiritual, unfailing? (v. 12). If we have many days of this kind of life, we shall see good, but only on condition that we keep our tongues from evil and our lips from speaking deceit. Before James writes of the evils that a hasty tongue may be guilty of (James 3:5-10), he assures us, "If anyone does not stumble in word, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle the whole body" (James 3:2). Such perfection (or maturity) should be cultivated by every child of God.
David does not ask this about people in general. He puts it to whoever is listening, and the answer shows up in how a person talks.
The fear of the Lord is presented as a daily practical thing. "What man is there who desires life and loves many days, that he may see good?" (Ps. 34:12). That question appeals to each of us. Do you love life? Do you want many days, and to see good? Is it good you are seeking? Here is the instruction on how to secure these blessings. "Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit" (Ps. 34:13). It does not begin here with my heart. It begins with my tongue... I know the people who are desiring good by the way they use their tongues.
The instruction that follows moves outward. It goes from what a person says, to what he does, to what he seeks.
If a man wants life, and to see good days, here is the divine preservative for him. Let him then keep his tongue from evil, and his lips from speaking deceit. For "out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks," and the government of the tongue is the sign of the perfect man. (Luke 6:45, James 3:2.) Let him order his walk so as to turn from evil — the negative side — and do good — the positive. Let him seek peace in this way, as "the effect of righteousness" (Isa. 32:17), and earnestly "pursue it."
This is not just advice that happens to work. It rests on how God rules the lives of His people, and Peter applies it to Christians.
Psalm 34 expands this theme, that God's government acts in favour of the godly. Verses 12 to 16 of this Psalm are quoted in 1 Peter 3:10 to 12. They establish that, if the Christian returns blessing for the evil and abuse he may receive from the world, he will inherit a blessing himself. If he sows blessing he will reap blessing. So it is ordained in the government of God.
- Desire — The verse begins with something everyone already wants: life, many days, and good. David asks it as a question so you will answer it yourself.
- Definition — The "life" offered is not mere existence. A prisoner in solitary is alive, yet he calls it a living death.
- Discovery — David asks it as a man who had tried deception and found it could not get good. He teaches what cost him something.
- Direction — The road to good days starts at the tongue, then the walk (turn from evil, do good), then the pursuit of peace. Speech is the first test because the mouth reports what the heart holds.
- Dependability — It holds because God governs. Sow blessing, reap blessing. Peter takes this from the psalm and applies it to Christians who are treated badly.
Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile;
David offers to teach the fear of the Lord, and his first lesson is not about the heart or the feet but about the tongue. The question hanging over the verse is why speech should be the starting point for anyone who wants a good life.
One writer ties this command to what David himself had learned about deception.
He also learned from experience that deception and lying could not gain anything good: "What man is there who desires life and loves many days, that he may see good?"
This is not an idea to admire but an order about everyday speech. One writer notes where the order does not begin.
"Come, O children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the LORD." He presents it as a daily, practical thing. Here is the instruction on how to secure these blessings. "Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit." It does not begin here with my heart. It begins with my tongue. "Keep your tongue." Oh, that is a most difficult job. How do you find it? We all know how hard it is to keep the tongue. Are you set to see good? That is the question. I know the people who are desiring good by the way they use their tongues.
Older translations call this deceit "guile." One writer explains what the word covers, and points to the one mouth where none of it was ever found.
Deceit. — This word is often translated "guile" in the New Testament. It means cunning, craftiness, plotting to deceive, and it usually has to do with what a person says. There was no guile found in the mouth of Christ (1 Peter 2:22)... Scripture says of Jew and Gentile alike that "with their tongues they have used deceit [guile]" (Rom. 3:13). Yet the apostle Peter quotes the psalmist: "Whoever desires to love life and see good days, let him keep his tongue from evil and his lips from speaking deceit" (Ps. 34:13; 1 Peter 3:10).
The verse names two evils, and Hamilton Smith aims them in different directions: one at other people, one at myself.
Do we want to find "life" in the middle of a world of death, and "see good" as we pass through a world of evil? Then let us walk in the fear of God. Then we will keep our tongues from the evil that would slander or injure others, and our lips from speaking guile when we try to excuse ourselves. Let us depart from evil and do good, and instead of striving with our opponents, let us seek peace and pursue it.
Guarding the tongue is not a small matter of manners. What comes out of the mouth shows what fills the heart, and one writer takes the command on from speech into the whole walk.
If a man wants life, and to see good days, here is the divine safeguard for him. Let him keep his tongue from evil, and his lips from speaking guile. For "out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks," and the government of the tongue is the sign of the perfect man (Luke 6:45, James 3:2). Let him order his walk so as to depart from evil — the negative side — and do good — the positive.
Peter lifts these words straight into a letter to Christians. He also stops his quotation before the psalm's closing threat.
Some people say to me, "All these Psalms are for the Jews." Peter does not leave them all for the Jews. He knew better than that... He leaves out the end of the sixteenth verse of the Psalm, which runs, "to cut off the memory of them from the earth." He does not go on with the Psalm. That will only happen later, when the Lord Christ reigns as a righteous King and righteousness judges all evil at once.
The command comes with a promise of good days. The same writer describes what life looks like without it.
You will not find a happy, bright Christian who allows himself the unrestrained use of his tongue. He will not be bright. He will not be happy. He does not see good days. Instead he sees miserable days, unhappy and dull. This is because he has done the thing the Lord told him not to do, and he suffers for it.
- Heart — What fills the heart comes out of the mouth, so controlling the tongue is the sign of a man who has himself in hand.
- Tongue — The fear of the Lord is a daily, practical thing, and it starts with speech, not with feelings.
- Two ways — Evil injures the other person; guile shields me. The verse shuts both doors.
- Walk — Guarded speech runs on into departing from evil, doing good, and pursuing peace.
- Days — The reward is life and good days now. A tongue let loose buys dull, unhappy ones instead.
Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.
The verse sits inside a lesson in the fear of the Lord, offered to anyone who wants life and good days. It asks two things at once: a clean break with evil, and an active chase after peace. Commentators treat it as the daily shape of a life lived before God.
The instruction has two halves. One writer names each half, and ties the pursuit of peace to righteousness:
Let him order his life so as to depart from evil — the negative side — and do good — the positive. Let him seek peace like this, as "the effect of righteousness" (Isa. 32:17), and earnestly "pursue it."
The ESV reads "Turn away from evil"; older translations read "Depart from evil." One writer presses that stronger word, and shows what fills the time it frees up:
We are not only to keep away from evil, but to depart from it. That is, we are to have no association with it, and to leave the very place where it is practiced. This is the negative side, but a positive side follows at once: "and do good." Do we take advantage of the many opportunities we have for doing good? If so, we should not have time for useless pursuits.
Peace here is not left to chance. It reaches into every relationship a person has:
Along with this, we are to seek peace — the grace of harmony and well-being — in whatever relationships we are in. And we are to "pursue it" with steady purpose.
There is no neutral ground here. One writer traces the failure to make peace back to a lack of care before God:
The man that is not a peace-maker is, in the spirit of his soul, a peace-breaker. Why? Because he is not walking in carefulness before God.
The two commands together set out a whole way of life. Notice where they put us when others oppose us:
The verses that follow set before us the path of quietness and peace through a restless and hostile world. Do we want to find "life" in a world of death, and to "see good" while passing through a world of evil? Then let us live in the fear of God. Let us keep our tongues from the evil that would slander or injure others, and our lips from the lies we tell to excuse ourselves. Let us depart from evil and do good, and, instead of striving with our opponents, let us seek peace and pursue it.
Peace has a limit. One writer names it, and points to Paul as the man who paid for faithfulness with a life of conflict:
You are to seek peace and pursue it. Even so, you must never sacrifice truth or principle to keep it, either with the world or with Christians. The love of popularity traps many. Even a Peter could be drawn aside by it for a moment. But Paul could not have peace on such terms. (Gal. 2) The great apostle loved peace and wanted it. Yet because he was faithful, he knew very little of it his whole life.
The New Testament takes these words up and applies them to Christians. That makes the verse a rule of life now, and not only an ancient one:
But grace gives the Christian to understand and make good the moral government God carries on with His children. The apostle in verses 10-12 cites Psalm 34 for this even now… From that scripture he urges them to turn away from evil and do good, and to seek peace in practice, and to do it earnestly. For the Lord's eyes are on the righteous, and His ears are open to their prayer, while His face is against those who do evil.
The same pairing returns in Psalm 37:27. One writer names the one Man who lived it out in full:
So the important principle of departing from evil and doing good is stressed again in verse 27, taken from the earlier Psalm 34:14… This active, practical pursuit of good, in separation from evil, was seen in perfection in the altogether "Perfect Man" (v. 37). He is the One whose wonderful ways, works and words made our blessed God and Father fully known.
- Depart — not just distance from evil, but departure: leaving the place where it is practiced.
- Do — fill the empty space with good, and there is no time left for useless pursuits.
- Seek — peace grows out of righteousness, and it is to be sought in every relationship.
- Pursue — chase it with purpose; the one who does not make peace is already breaking it.
- Stop — peace has a boundary: never trade truth or principle to keep it.
The eyes of Jehovah are upon the righteous, and his ears are toward their cry;
Psalm 34 comes from a man God had rescued. Verse 15 promises that God watches and listens, and it names who He watches; the next verse turns to the opposite side.
In Psalms 32 and 33, God's eye rests on His people for other reasons. Here the reason changes:
Verse 15 of this Psalm again states the fact that "The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous." This time it is not for guidance, as in Psalm 32. Nor is it for deliverance, as in Psalm 33. It is government, so that He may listen to their cry and overrule affairs on their behalf. But note that He acts this way for "the righteous."
This is not only a general law that a person reaps what he sows. It is God's direct, personal dealing with His own:
It is true that God is not mocked. What a man sows he will reap, because God's government has attached certain consequences to certain conduct. But He also watches over His children and governs them directly. He may let them fall sick, or die; He may deliver them from it, when they confess or when others pray for them.
God has no body, so eyes and ears are picture language:
The Bible is full of such symbolism. For instance, God is a Spirit and so has no body. Yet we read of His back, His face, His eyes, His nostrils, His feet, His hands, and so on. All of these are meant to convey definite thoughts in symbolic language.
Eyes and ears carry two assurances: how God looks, and how He hears:
"The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous" (v. 15). That is, He looks on them with approval and encouragement, for the eyes speak of the Spirit of God, guarding and guiding His saints. "His ears are toward their cry." He never fails to hear the honest pleas that call for His help.
But who counts as "righteous"? The word covers conduct, not standing alone:
God's eye over the righteous means more than perfect discernment of every motive. It also means watchful care that keeps them safe. In principle every believer is righteous in Christ. But Peter insists that he should be this in practice too, if he is to know God's approving eye upon him. The same holds for God's ears being open to his prayers. That involves not only hearing, but hearing with approval and answering.
What if the answer never comes? One writer meets the complaint head-on:
"But," you say, "He does not answer." Well, He may be having a controversy with you, for "the face of the LORD is against those who do evil," and that is as true of a child of God as of someone unconverted. If the soul is doing right, what is the result? You have the eyes of the Lord upon you, and the ears of the Lord open to you. That is, you have the presence of the Lord, because your walk suits God.
Delay is not refusal:
How it should quiet our hearts before God when He seems to delay His answer to our cries! Urgent need or pressing danger keeps pressing and grows impatient. "Has not God said," we repeat at such times, "that He will hear our prayers?" Then why have we cried in vain? Ah, no! We never cry to Him in vain. If the Lord waits, He waits only for His own glory and our fuller blessing.
Peter quotes these words in 1 Peter 3:12. But he stops in mid-sentence, and one writer shows why:
It stops in the middle of a sentence. Why? Because the words that follow are "to cut off the memory of them from the earth." Those words apply in a literal way to God's people on earth, the Jews. They could never apply to those who are saved from the wrath to come. Instead of inheriting the earth, they look for "an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven."
- Watched — God's eye here is not for guidance or rescue but for government. He looks on so that He can hear and overrule circumstances for His people.
- Heard — His ear is open, and He never fails to hear honest pleas. But hearing here means hearing with approval and answering.
- Righteous — Every believer is righteous in Christ. This promise belongs to those who are righteous in practice too.
- Walk — A right walk brings the presence of the Lord. Silence may mean God has a controversy with the one praying.
- Waiting — We never cry to Him in vain. When He seems to delay, He waits for His own glory and our fuller blessing.
The face of Jehovah is against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth
Up to this point Psalm 34 has been a song of deliverance. Here the same Lord who watches over the righteous turns a different look toward those who do evil — which raises a question: when is a person's memory cut off from the earth?
The verse before this one speaks of God's eyes and ears turned toward the righteous. One writer draws out the contrast:
"The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous" (v. 15). That look is one of approval and encouragement. The eyes speak of the Spirit of God, guarding and guiding His saints. "His ears toward their cry." He never fails to hear the honest pleas that call for His help. But on the other hand, "the face of the LORD is against those who do evil" (v. 16). We have known "the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6), and in that face is pure truth, so evil is hateful to it. Those who choose evil will have their very memory "cut off from the earth." This has special reference to the earthly blessings that belong to believers on earth in the millennium.
Another writer adds that God knows all about the evil He sets His face against:
The Lord also knows all about the evil, for the face of the Lord is against those who do evil (v. 16). In the end of God's ways the memory of the evildoer will be cut off. The righteous, on the other hand, will be delivered out of all his troubles.
It would be easy to read this verse as being about other people. Commentators press it closer to home, since Peter applies these words to Christians.
The face of the Lord is as much against His own children, if they are doing evil, as it is against the children of the devil. Here he applies it in the practical walk of the Christian. And who is he that will harm you, if you are followers of what is good? Notice the good things here. Good days, follow what is good, good conscience, and good conversation.
That has a very practical consequence for prayer. If the answers seem not to come, the previous verse and this one belong together:
"But," you say, "He does not answer." Well, perhaps He may be having a controversy with you. "The face of the Lord is against those who do evil," and that is as true of a child of God as of an unconverted person. If the soul is doing right, what is the result? You have the eyes of the Lord upon you, and the ears of the Lord open to you. That is, a walk that suits God brings you the presence of the Lord.
Peter quotes part of this psalm, but he stops short. One writer marks where the quotation ends, and why.
Verses 11–16 take up the character of this fear of the Lord. Peter alone quotes most of this passage. Peter leaves out the end of verse 16, since it does not apply now. The general fact of government for the Christian still does apply, and we should remember this. God is not mocked: what a man sows he will reap. In His government God has attached certain consequences to certain conduct. He also watches over His children and governs them directly.
The same writer explains why the clause about cutting off does not fit the present moment:
But God's government now is not the public government that puts down all evil. It works in the case of the righteous, who live under and through the power of evil. When Christ appears, there will be this suppression of evil.
The last clause looks forward. One writer points to the psalm that follows this one:
Psalm 34 records that "the face of the LORD is against those who do evil." But we have to go on to Psalm 35 to find this side of things treated in detail. That psalm works out at length how God will finally bring the ungodly and the persecutors to shame and to judgment... Such will be God's governmental dealings with them in this life. There is of course the dark pit of hell before them in the life to come, but that is not the theme of the psalm.
This verse is not a detour from the psalm's joy. It is part of what lets faith bless the Lord at all times:
It is the full assurance of the LORD's government in favour of the humble in heart. This enables them to bless Him at all times, not only when they are blessed — blessing Him only then is not faith. In their trouble God hears them, keeps them, and redeems them.
- Face: In verse 15 God's eyes and ears mean approval and attention. In verse 16 the same God turns His face the other way, because evil is hateful to Him.
- Knowledge: God knows all about the evil. Nothing in the evildoer's course escapes Him.
- Nearness: This applies to God's own children as much as to anyone else. Unanswered prayer may mean He has a controversy with you.
- Omission: Peter quotes this psalm as far as verse 16, but leaves off the cutting-off clause. God's government today works through the power of evil, not by putting it down.
- Result: Being sure that God deals with evil frees the humble heart to bless the Lord at all times. Blessing Him only when blessed is not faith at all.
[The righteous] cry, and Jehovah heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.
David wrote this psalm, and this verse makes a large promise: God hears His people when they cry, and He rescues them. Two questions follow. Who counts as "the righteous"? And what does deliverance look like when the trouble does not go away?
One writer marks how this Psalm differs from the two before it:
Verse 15 of this Psalm states again that "The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous." This time it is not for guidance, as in Psalm 32. Nor is it for deliverance, as in Psalm 33. It is in government, so that He may listen to their cry, and overrule affairs on their behalf. But notice — it is "the righteous" for whom He acts in this way.
Another writer shows how closely He watches and listens:
Those treading this path will realize that the eyes of the Lord are on His people and His ears open to their cry. He is not unmindful of their sorrows: He sees them all. He is not indifferent to their cry; He hears the faintest whisper.
Being heard does not mean being spared. Commentators tie the crying itself to the trouble that produced it:
But though the righteous are not cut off with the ungodly, yet it is necessary that they should be tried. In their trial they cry out and the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles (v. 17). So the trial itself serves a good purpose — that of casting souls dependently on the Lord to prove the value of His deliverance.
The same logic explains why the world is so full of hardship:
There is trial also, and it falls on the righteous; and, as he soon admits, even much of it. What does this mean? First, that being brought down by trial is what makes men cry to God and learn His delivering grace. And it is to the broken in heart that He is near, and the contrite that He saves. So there is abundant reason for all the trial of which the world is full.
The cry God hears comes from a particular kind of heart:
What kind of man could God walk with? With the man of a contrite spirit. If you want to secure the presence of the Lord, what must there be? A broken, and a contrite heart. In plain language, there is a moral state that engages the company of Christ.
Another writer contrasts a will still at work with a heart that has submitted:
If in the middle of trial there is irritation and anger, even if only in thought, it is the sure sign of self-will at work… But when the heart is broken by the evil, and fully submits to all that God in His government allows, the will is no longer at work. Then it will find great blessing in the trial, and will bless the Lord "at all times."
"Out of all their troubles" is a total promise, but not an immediate one:
And if the righteous man finds great spiritual blessing in this way, it does not follow that in an evil world he will not suffer. For, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous." Still, the Lord, in His own time and way, will deliver the godly out of his afflictions.
And deliverance need not mean escape from the circumstances at all:
It does not follow that there will always be deliverance from circumstances. That is not the point. In a world of evil we must never forget that righteousness may suffer, but God governs.
Commentators read the psalm as reaching past David to Christ, and then to believers today:
The righteous must expect suffering while man has his day, but Jehovah delivers him… Here is full assurance that Jehovah governs in favour of the humble in heart. This enables them to bless, not only when they are blessed (that is not faith), but at all times. The reason is that they are heard, preserved, and redeemed when they are in trouble. Christ is the great example of this.
The promise has not lapsed with the change of era:
The principles of God's government of His people do not change. When David wrote Psalm 34, it was the age of law and God's people were in the place of servants. Today is the age of grace and we are before God as His sons… Yet the apostle Peter can quote David's words from Psalm 34 as applying equally to us.
- Trouble — affliction has a purpose. It brings people low, so they cry to God and learn what His delivering grace is worth.
- Cry — the cry that counts comes from a broken heart, a will that has stopped fighting what God allows.
- Heard — God governs on their behalf. He sees every sorrow and catches the faintest whisper.
- Delivered — the rescue is certain and complete. But it comes in His time and way, and it may not take them out of the circumstances.
- Bless — faith blesses God at all times, not only when blessed. Christ is the great example, and Peter applies the same promise to believers now.
Jehovah is nigh to those that are of a broken heart, and saveth them that are of a contrite spirit.
David wrote Psalm 34 at one of the lowest points of his life, and its promise falls on those whose hearts have given way, not on the confident. That raises a question: why would the God who is high and holy draw closest to crushed people?
The heading of this psalm points back to a low moment before a Philistine king. One writer sees shame and grace working together there:
He pretended to be insane to escape harsh treatment from the Philistine king. He was in the wrong place, so he acted wrongly. But he must have confessed and judged this failure before God. Otherwise he could not have written as he did in this psalm. In His wise government God dealt honestly with David and made him feel the shame of what he had done. At the same time He showed the grace of His heart by drawing him to bless the Lord.
The broken heart of verse 18, then, was David's own. What looked like pure loss became the door to a closer knowledge of God:
David's time at the Philistine king's court had humbled him deeply. His own behaviour had thrown away the dignity God gave him. This broke his heart and crushed his spirit. But under this discipline he came to know himself and to know the Lord more closely. What more could he want?
The verse names two things: a broken heart and a crushed spirit. One writer traces them to two different sources:
If our hearts are broken by all that is around, and our spirits contrite because of what we find in ourselves, we will find it is still true: "The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."
God's nearness to the low does not cancel His holiness. It flows from who He is:
He is high and holy, and He dwells in the high and holy place. But He dwells also with the one "who is of a contrite and humble spirit," for He finds there something suited to Himself. Heaven's highest place is honoured by the presence of Him who still stoops to make the lowly heart His throne. The highest heavens cannot contain God. Yet we may have Him as our Guest — but only by going down ourselves into the lowest place. So if we have never met Him, it is because we have never gone that low. Self-judgment is where we find Him in grace.
So nothing keeps us from meeting Him except our own refusal to go that low.
The verse promises rescue, not only comfort. One writer applies it to the moment when every human answer has run out:
When we see so much sorrow and so many problems and trials, how do we react? Are we looking for a "solution" in a human way? We won't find one. On the contrary — we may make things worse. But we may be at the point where, like the apostle Paul, "we are perplexed." If we have a contrite spirit before the Lord there, He will save us. He will show us the way… This may not be the easy way — but we will have the certainty that it is His way.
The surrounding verses put this promise inside God's ongoing care for His own. One writer sees the trial itself as what produces this broken heart:
The trial itself serves a good purpose. It throws souls back on the Lord, and proves the value of His deliverance. We also learn through trial to "have a broken heart" (v. 18), A broken heart is so precious to the Lord that He comes especially near to us at such times. And does it not move us deeply to remember the Lord Jesus facing the terrible sorrow of the cross? He said, "Reproaches have broken my heart, so that I am in despair." Only a broken heart can truly value such words from the blessed Lord of glory.
This same care is described as God's direct government of His children rather than distant providence:
Not only is it true that God is not mocked… but He also watches over and directly governs His children… "The eyes of Jehovah are upon the righteous, His ears open to their cry." Not only that, but "near to those of a broken heart, and He saves those of a contrite spirit."
- Broken — David's own humiliating failure broke his heart. That discipline taught him to know himself, and to know the Lord more closely.
- Twofold — what surrounds us breaks the heart; what we find inside us makes the spirit contrite.
- Near — the God whom the heavens cannot contain makes the lowly heart His throne. There He finds something suited to Himself.
- Down — if we have never met Him, it is because we have never come down to self-judgment. That is where His grace meets us.
- Saved — human solutions only make things worse. God shows the contrite spirit a way out — not the easy way, but His way.
Many are the adversities of the righteous, but Jehovah delivereth him out of them all
The verse sets two facts side by side. The godly life is full of trouble. And no trouble is beyond rescue. Commentators ask three questions here. Why so many afflictions? What does "out of them all" promise? And why does the next line, about unbroken bones, point to the cross?
The psalm has just described a path of life and good for the one who fears the Lord.
Still, though there is a path of "life" and "good" for the godly, it is always true that, in an evil world, the righteous will suffer. "Many are the afflictions of the righteous," but in their afflictions they will have the watchful care of the Lord. He delivers; He keeps His people from harm... So, learning the grace of the Lord while going through afflictions, the soul may well say, "I will bless the LORD at all times."
Where do the afflictions come from? One writer traces them to two roots.
True, there is affliction in fact, and much of it. But these come from one of two roots. Either they are the necessary chastenings of love, because even the "righteous" are righteous so unevenly. Or they are the results of what the world is in its opposition to God, and they will prove to be gain in the day of account. All this will be clear then, and we should grasp it now.
"Out of them all" is a promise about the outcome, not the timetable.
That is the principle. He delivers in His own way, in due time, because He has His eye so upon His people.
This means deliverance can arrive by a door we would never have chosen. One writer points to Paul. He expected the Lord to rescue him from every evil deed — and then died in prison.
In God's wise government He allows the afflictions of the righteous to be many. But His goodness toward them is fully equal to the need, and He delivers them out of them all. Paul said in 2 Timothy 4:18, "The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed." That deliverance did not mean he would not suffer. In fact, the evil work of Satan led to Paul's execution in prison, and by that very means God delivered him.
The next line says God keeps all his bones. That pushes the promise past the grave. One commentator traces its exact fulfilment in Christ.
When we think of recompense, it is true that even the righteous suffer. Their afflictions are many. But the principle already given applies to them also, and in the end God does not forget who they are: deliverance out of all awaits them. Suppose they even die. The LORD guards their bones and does not let them be broken. That is an example of perfect care, and it appeared in its fullest form in the case of the Lord, under circumstances that mark Him out as the Righteous One in the absolute sense. No one could claim such care in the same sense as He. So for Him it became a prophecy that had to be fulfilled (John 19:36), fulfilled to the letter. To others it applies, one would say, in the spirit of it.
Paul reminded Timothy of the persecutions he had lived through. He was not listing his hardships. He was borrowing the psalmist's second half.
If he recounts his sufferings in his service and testimony, it is only to magnify the Lord's faithfulness. For he adds, "yet from them all the Lord rescued me." There might have been persecutions. But like the psalmist he had to say, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous," and he could also join in the testimony, "But the LORD delivers him out of them all."
- Many — Being righteous does not thin the trouble out. In an evil world the godly suffer, and Scripture states it without softening.
- Why — The afflictions are either the chastenings of love, or the world's hostility to God. Both will prove to be gain in the day of account.
- All — Deliverance covers every one of them, but comes in His own way and at His own time, because His eye is on His people.
- Even death — Paul's execution was the very means of his rescue. God's care reached its fullest form in Christ: not one of His bones was broken. For others the promise holds in spirit.
- So say it — Paul turned this verse into testimony, listing his sufferings only to magnify the Lord's faithfulness. That is the verse's intended use: blessing the Lord at all times.
He keepeth all his bones; not one of them is broken.
Psalm 34 promises that God's care reaches down to the bones of the one He protects. John's Gospel points to the cross as the place where those words came true. Is this a promise for every believer, a word about one Person, or both?
The promise is not that trouble will stay away. It comes right after the psalm's line about the many afflictions of the righteous. It tells us what God does while the trouble lasts.
Even though there is a path of "life" and "good" for the godly, it is always true that in an evil world the righteous will suffer. "Many are the afflictions of the righteous," but in their afflictions they will have the watchful care of the Lord. He delivers; He keeps His people from harm, for not one of their bones is broken. So, learning the grace of the Lord in the middle of afflictions, the soul may well say, "I will bless the Lord at all times."
The soldiers did not break Jesus' legs. John says this fulfilled a Scripture. Commentators differ on which Scripture he had in mind. Some point to the rule about the Passover lamb in Exodus; others read John as quoting this psalm directly.
There seems to have been difficulty for some as to where the passage referred to was, and the Passover lamb has been put forward. But it seems clearly to refer to Psalm 34:20. And, what is more interesting, it leads us to the subject of the psalm.
Others hold both readings together.
While the other two had their legs broken to hasten their end, not a bone of our Lord was broken, and so Scripture was fulfilled. The reference must be to Psalm 34:20, and to the instructions given about the Passover lamb in Exodus 12, repeated in Numbers 9. This is worth noting, because it shows how fully the Spirit of God identifies the lamb that was a picture with the One pictured — what is said of the picture is treated as applying to Him.
Bones hold the body together. That is why the promise reaches to them.
"He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken" (v. 20). This was literally true of the Lord Jesus (John 19:36). It is true of believers in a different way. The bones are the framework of the body, and the basic standing of all believers before God stays intact through every tribulation.
At the cross this went further. The soldiers left even the outward form of Jesus' body untouched.
With the Lord, His work accomplished, men have no more power over Him. There must now be no marring even of the outward form that has housed the symmetry of the spirit within.
Commentators weigh how far this promise reaches beyond Christ.
Suppose they even die: Jehovah guards their bones and does not allow them to be broken. Such perfect care was shown in the fullest way in the case of the Lord, under circumstances that mark Him as the absolutely Righteous One. None could claim such care in the same sense as He did; and so for Him it became a prophecy that had to be fulfilled (John 19:36), and fulfilled to the letter. To others it applies, one would say, in the spirit of it.
Suffering has a limit, and God sets it.
No sorrow can go further than He pleases; for "my times are in your hand." Every wave of sorrow had to dash against the blessed Lord. All had to roll over Him, so that as Captain of salvation He might be made perfect through sufferings. But not one wave came that was not needed to complete all things. His own Spirit had written of these sufferings in the prophets of old, and now He was passing through them. When everything His Spirit had foretold was complete, He could say, "It is finished" (John 19:28). And then not a bone of Him was broken. "Many are the afflictions of the righteous," yet personally he is kept.
- Kept, not spared. The verse follows the line about many afflictions. God promises watchful care through the trouble, not escape from it.
- Kept to the letter. At the cross the soldiers broke the legs of the two beside Jesus. They left His body untouched, and John says this fulfilled Scripture.
- Kept whole. Bones are the body's framework. Nothing of Jesus was marred, and the believer's standing before God stays intact.
- Kept uniquely, then shared. Commentators say no one can claim this care in the same measure as the Righteous One. To others it applies in its spirit.
- Kept within limits. No sorrow travels further than God allows, so the soul can still say, "I will bless the Lord at all times."
Evil shall destroy the wicked; and they that hate the righteous shall bear their guilt.
Psalm 34 ends with two verses set side by side, and this is the darker of the pair. After a song about a poor man who cried and was heard, David turns to the people who made him cry: their own evil does the work.
The first line does not say God hunts the wicked down. It says the evil itself is the killer — the ESV calls it "affliction," while other translations read "evil." One writer pictures the harm a man throws out coming back along the same arc, then names who stands behind the verse's second line.
On the other hand, "evil shall slay the wicked" (v. 21). He may think his evil actions put him in control. But like a boomerang they come back on his own head, and he becomes the victim of his own wickedness. "And those who hate the righteous shall be condemned." God alone has the right to condemn, and He will bring that repayment on those who hate the righteous. So He defends those who trust Him by condemning the enemy.
The second half of the verse turns from a deed to a settled attitude: hatred of righteous people. The ESV says such people "will be condemned"; other translations read "shall bear their guilt." One writer sets that line beside the psalm's final verse, where the same word turns up again.
"And those who hate the righteous shall bear their guilt." That shows the righteous repayment God must carry out. But the Psalmist adds, "The Lord redeems the soul of His servants, and none of those who trust in Him shall bear guilt." It is the same word.
Someone carries the guilt. The psalm answers who.
The psalm's last two verses are not mirror images. One side is what evil produces by itself. The other is God's own work.
They remind us of the apostle's words in Romans 6:23: "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." So here the judgment of sin is, so to speak, only what fits: "Evil shall bring death to the wicked; and the haters of the righteous shall bear their guilt." But the deliverance of the soul of His servants is on the Lord's part a true work of salvation. It fits His holiness, of course, and yet it comes only by the grace that shines through it all.
This is where the whole song lands. Commentators also hear the voice of Christ in the psalm, since verse 20 speaks of bones that are not broken.
Not a bone of Him had been broken. His soul makes its boast in the Lord — the humble should hear about it and be glad… He sought the Lord, and He heard Him and delivered Him from all His fears… So they can say, "This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him and saved him out of all his troubles." Verses 21 and 22 draw the grand conclusion about the wicked and the remnant.
A remnant is the faithful few left when a nation turns away from God.
It would be easy to read this verse as saying trouble always proves guilt. Two verses earlier, the psalm says the righteous suffer many afflictions.
But that is not repayment: it is really mercy. When we think of repayment, it is true that even the righteous suffer, and their afflictions are many. But the principle already given applies to them too, and in the end who they are is not forgotten: deliverance out of it all awaits them.
Commentators differ on how far we may take such language onto our own lips. One writer says many psalm passages do not fit Christian lips at all, since Christians are told to pray for their enemies:
The Christian is taught by example and by command to pray for his enemies and to return good for evil. How, then, can he use words like those of Psalm 55:15?… Passages come up all through the Psalms that are completely unsuitable for a Christian to say, though they suited the period of God's dealings they have in view.
Another writer points to Peter, who quotes this same psalm and applies it to Christians. Its working principle still stands.
The principles of God's government of His people do not change… Yet the apostle Peter can quote David's words from Psalm 34 as applying equally to us. We reap what we sow under God's government. The way to "see good" is to "do good"… Many an unpleasant event in our life is the plain result of our own unpleasantness.
- Evil kills its owner. No outside force destroys the wicked man so much as the thing he chose; it comes back on his own head.
- Hatred creates guilt. Hating the righteous is not a neutral opinion — it leaves a debt that its holder must carry.
- Guilt goes somewhere. The last two verses use the same word: either you bear your guilt, or the Lord redeems your soul and you bear none.
- Judgment is natural; rescue is grace. Sin's outcome fits, like wages earned. Deliverance is God's own work, and only grace explains it.
- Trouble is not the test. The righteous suffer many afflictions too. For them affliction is mercy, not repayment, and deliverance out of it all is coming.
Jehovah redeemeth the soul of his servants; and none of them that trust in him shall bear guilt.
The psalm ends with two verses set against each other. One is for those who hate the righteous, one for those who take shelter in God. This last line is the conclusion the whole psalm builds to. Its force turns on one word that appears in both verses.
Verse 21 says that those who hate the righteous "shall bear their guilt." Verse 22 uses the same word for those who trust. Older translations keep that link in sight. The ESV says "condemned."
Then in the last two verses you get a contrast. "Evil shall slay the wicked; and those who hate the righteous shall bear their guilt" (Ps. 34:21). That is a very striking statement, and Scripture illustrates it from beginning to end. Evil turns back on the man who indulges in it, and kills him. It is a broad principle. "And those who hate the righteous shall bear their guilt." That shows the righteous repayment God must give. But the Psalmist adds, "The Lord redeems the soul of His servants, and none of those who trust in Him shall bear guilt." The same word.
Others translate the second half "shall be desolate." Translations differ on this closing line.
The two halves are not mirror images. One outcome fits what a person has done. The other is God's own work.
These governmental ways of God come out in full in the last two verses. The two verses clearly go together as paired opposites, and in a striking way. They remind us of the apostle's words in Romans 6:23: "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." So here the judgment of sin is, as it were, only what fits: "Evil shall bring death to the wicked; and the haters of the righteous shall bear their guilt." But the deliverance of the soul of His servants is on Jehovah's part a true salvation work. It agrees, of course, with His holiness. Yet it comes only by the grace which shines through it all: "Jehovah redeems the soul of His servants; and none who take refuge in Him shall bear guilt."
What does this redemption cover? The verse sets no boundary.
In contrast to this, "the Lord redeems the soul of His servants" (v. 22), that is, He redeems them from all that is contrary to them; and "none of those who trust in Him shall be condemned." Precious assurance!
Verse 19 has already granted that the righteous have many afflictions. Verse 22 does not cancel those afflictions. It stands over them.
Still, though there is a path of "life" and "good" for the godly, one thing stays true. In an evil world the righteous will suffer. "Many are the afflictions of the righteous." But in their afflictions they will have the watchful care of the Lord. He delivers; He keeps His people from harm, for not one of their bones is broken. He will deal with all the wicked. He redeems the souls of His servants, and none that trust in Him will be left desolate. So, learning the grace of the Lord while afflictions last, the soul may well say, "I WILL BLESS THE LORD AT ALL TIMES."
One writer hears Christ Himself singing this psalm — the One whose bones were never broken. That shapes how the closing verses land.
In Psalm 34 He takes up the song of praise for the faithfulness of the Lord. Not a bone of Him had been broken. His soul makes its boast in the Lord, and the humble should hear it and be glad. He was "heard because of His reverence." Whatever glory followed, as seen in Psalm 21 and better known by us, He applies it to the comfort of the tried remnant in that day. So they may bless the Lord at all times, even in trial and seeming abandonment... Verses 21 and 22 draw the grand conclusion about the wicked and the remnant.
This promise is not theory. One writer traces it in the life of Naomi, who came home from Moab.
David came back from Gath, the city of Goliath. In the same way Naomi came back from Moab, the kingdom of Balak. Unworthy as she was, she had tasted and seen that Jehovah is good, and that "none of those who trust in Him shall bear guilt," or "be desolate" (Ps. 34:22)... So Naomi took courage in Jehovah. For their present need He had satisfied their mouth with good things. Would He not provide for the future too?
- Guilt — one word decides both verses. Those who hate the righteous bear their guilt. Those who take refuge bear none.
- Wages — judgment is what sin earns. It fits what the person has done.
- Gift — rescue is different. God Himself works it, and it reaches all that stands against His servants.
- Reach — the promise speaks to people whose afflictions are many, not to people whose troubles are over.
- Result — nothing can condemn those who trust Him. So the psalm's first resolve holds: bless the Lord at all times.
([A Psalm] of David.) Strive, O Jehovah, with them that strive with me; fight against them that fight against me
Psalm 35 opens with a man surrounded by enemies. He does not defend himself. He hands the case to God and asks Him to fight it. May a believer pray like this today? If not, why is this cry in the Bible?
David once had his enemy Saul in his power, and he refused to strike.
Circumstances that seemed to have brought David into the greatest danger had in reality put Saul in David's power. But he will not avenge himself. Instead he appeals to Jehovah: let Him "therefore be Judge and judge between you and me, and see and plead my cause, and deliver me out of your hand." The Psalmist does the same. In him we see the Spirit of Christ, of Him who would not save Himself but committed all to God.
The appeal for judgment is not a first reaction to injury. It comes at the end of a long road of kindness that got nowhere.
They looked to the Lord for deliverance only at the end. It came after patience and unwearied grace, when that grace was of no use, and when they did not avenge themselves but cast themselves on the Lord. Only when he would be swallowed up does he look to the Lord Himself to step in, and so He will. God will not forget the poor forever, and it is not right that heartless, unjust and cruel evil should always have the upper hand unhindered.
The prayer asks that the enemy get back what he has been handing out. It moves from defence to attack, then rests on God Himself. Older translations read "Strive" where the ESV has "Contend."
"Strive, Jehovah, with them that strive with me: fight against them that fight against me" — give them treatment that matches their own behaviour. Then we see how much he needs the help he asks for. His first thought is of "shield and buckler" to come between him and his foes. But he soon moves on to weapons of attack. He asks Jehovah to stand in the way with levelled spear between him and his pursuers, and to be Himself his salvation. All that God is would then be pledged on his behalf.
The psalm is not the private outburst of one wronged man. Commentators hear the Spirit of Christ in it.
Here we have the full and true sense of the power and wickedness of evil, and he looks for judgment against the oppressive wicked. Here Christ enters into it all, in sympathy with the Remnant — these are looked at, and even tested by their sympathy with Him. Christ pleads in Spirit for judgment, and that judgment will be the deliverance of the Remnant. One of them would easily see that Another than himself pleaded, and that his own deliverance came from that plea being heard.
This prayer reaches far beyond David's own trouble. It is the standing cry of the persecuted, and Jesus pointed to it in Luke 18.
The thirty-fifth psalm gives us what the Lord speaks of in the gospel of Luke (Luke 18:1-8): the cry of God's elect, who have suffered since Abel's time at the hand of the persecutor. God will yet pour out judgment for it. Often it is a voiceless cry. At last it finds full expression on the lips of the Jewish remnant of the last days.
Nothing in these words is spite.
Many dare to think, in ignorant presumption, that these prayers against the wicked are vindictive. They are not. They are solemnly judicial. They belong to the time when God pours out His wrath on all who despise Him. But now it is the day of grace and salvation, the accepted time.
The believer today borrows a different set of words for the same situation.
The language of this psalm is by no means what Christians today are expected to use. We are privileged to live in the day of grace. In it we may rightly prefer the words of the Lord Jesus, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34), or those of Stephen as he died for his faith, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" (Acts 7:60).
The instinct behind the psalm — refusing to settle the score yourself — still stands.
"Vengeance" belongs to God. This, surely, is a truth the Christian needs reminding of... In the presence of provocation, anger and deliberate insults, let us beware of trying to take vengeance. The insults and injustice may stir righteous indignation; we cannot be trusted to take vengeance. That the Lord keeps in His own hands.
- Hand it over. The cry comes only after patience and kindness have failed. The sufferer avenges nothing and puts the case in God's hands.
- Ask for God Himself. The prayer climbs from shield to spear to God Himself as salvation, so that all that God is stands pledged on the sufferer's side.
- Another pleads. The Spirit of Christ gives the words. The sufferer hears Someone else pleading his case, and God's answer to that plea is his deliverance.
- An ancient cry. It is the cry of God's elect suffering since Abel, the one Jesus pointed to in Luke 18 — often voiceless, but never unheard.
- Judicial, not vindictive. These are not grudges but a call for God's sentence. In the day of grace the believer prays instead, "Father, forgive them," and still leaves vengeance to God.
Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for my help;
Psalm 35 is the prayer of a man who is being hunted and knows he cannot win the fight on his own. In verse 2 he asks God to take up armour and stand up to help him.
The two words in this prayer name pieces of battlefield equipment. One dictionary of Bible words describes the shield behind the word "buckler" here, and shows where Scripture uses it as a picture of God's care.
SHIELD: this was a tsinnah, a shield large enough to cover the whole body. It had a large raised centre rising to a point, which could serve as a weapon. Scripture uses it as a picture of God's protecting care of His people: Ps. 5:12; Ps. 91:4. The same word is translated BUCKLER in Ps. 35:2; Ezek. 23:24; Ezek. 26:8, and elsewhere.
The request is an admission of weakness. The people praying know the attack is bigger than anything they can meet.
The overflowing attack of the wicked against Israel will make the godly see how helpless they are. So they cry out for God to use His power on their behalf (v. 1). They are not equal to the fierceness of the fight. They need power greater than their own to face the enemy. They want the "shield and buckler" to defend them (v. 2). But they want the spear too, to take the offensive against the power of evil and stop those who pursue the righteous (v. 3).
Notice the order of the requests across verses 1–3. Defence comes first, then attack, and the sequence ends with God offering not a weapon but Himself.
Then we see how much he needs the help he asks for. His first thought is of "shield and buckler" — to be placed, of course, between him and his enemies. But he soon moves on to weapons of attack. He asks Jehovah to stand in the way, with spear levelled between him and those chasing him, and to be Himself his salvation. All that God is would then be pledged on his behalf.
David had chances to settle his own scores. One writer reads Psalm 35 alongside a moment in David's life when he almost took revenge with his own hand.
David is in danger of giving free vent to his indignation and of "avenging himself with his own hand" (vv. 26, 34). This is where, it seems to me, the experience of Psalm 35 is found: "They reward me evil for good" (v. 12; compare 1 Sam. 25:21)… But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. Instead of defending his rights himself he commits his cause to the Lord.
The psalm is more than one man's private trouble. One writer traces its voice to the Spirit of Christ at work in a faithful remnant among the Jewish people, and says carefully whose prayer this is not.
As usual, it is the Spirit of Christ guiding the remnant. He leads them to feel and weigh everything in relation to their state and position. This is not at all Christ personally, simply suffering all for God's glory. Nor is it the members of His body, who now have in them, by the power of the Spirit, the moral mind that was in Him. Here He pleads for judgment on the wicked, judgment that will surely come to deliver godly Jews.
This prayer has taken more than one shape over time. One writer traces the same cry from Abel's day down to the last days, passing through Stephen on the way.
Psalm 35 gives us what the Lord speaks of in the Gospel of Luke (Luke 18:1-8): the cry of God's elect. They have suffered since Abel's time at the hand of the persecutor, and judgment will yet be poured out for it. Often it is a cry with no voice. Sometimes it is exchanged for the prayer, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them!" — as in Stephen's case, and in the many of Christian times of whom he was the first martyr. At last it finds full expression on the lips of the Jewish remnant of the last days. God's patience is then fast running out, and the prayer is in full harmony with the mind of God. In this psalm it is a fully argued plea, and one God accepts and acts on. It shows how fully God's judgment sides with everything good and true, in the unequal fight between good and evil in a fallen world.
- Weakness starts it. The cry for shield and buckler comes from someone "not equal to the fierceness of the fight". He needs power greater than his own.
- The word itself. The "buckler" here is the tsinnah, a shield large enough to cover the whole body. Scripture uses it as a picture of God's protecting care.
- Defence becomes offence. The prayer moves from cover, to a levelled spear, to God Himself as the man's salvation. All that God is then stands pledged on his behalf.
- The hands stay empty. David does not defend his own rights. He hands his cause to the Lord. The choice is to arm yourself, or to ask God to arm Himself.
- One cry, two voices. Commentators hear the Spirit of Christ guiding a persecuted people to plead for judgment. The same cry took another form in Stephen: "Lord, do not hold this sin against them."
And draw out the spear, and stop [the way] against my pursuers say unto my soul, I am thy salvation.
Psalm 35 opens with a man surrounded. His pursuers want his life, so he hands the whole fight to God. In verse 3 he asks two things: block the road behind him, and speak a word into his soul.
The prayer moves in stages. One writer traces where it lands:
His first thought is of "shield and buckler" — to be placed, of course, between him and his foes. But he soon moves on to weapons of attack. He asks Jehovah to stand in the way, with levelled spear, between him and his pursuers — to be Himself his salvation. All that God is would then be pledged on his behalf.
The prayer is not finished when the pursuers stop. The psalmist asks for something spoken to him as well:
They want the "shield and buckler" to defend them (v. 2). They also want the spear, to take the offensive against the power of evil and stop those who pursue the righteous (v. 3). They want God's assurance for their soul's comfort too, in His saying, "I am your salvation." So they want His word to come with the power that steps in for them.
A word from God steadies the heart while the danger is still in sight.
The words the psalmist asks God to say are striking. Not "I will save you," and not "salvation is coming," but I am your salvation. One writer draws out how much hangs on that difference:
I think it is important to link salvation with the Lord Himself. We have it in present and enjoyed possession when we have Him. This is surely what Simeon teaches. He held the infant Jesus in his arms and said, "my eyes have seen your salvation." The Lord's words to Zacchaeus say it too: "Today salvation has come to this house." He was there, and He was salvation. I advise young Christians to spell salvation "H.I.M." and not "I.T."
The psalm is not one man's bad week. It gives words to sufferers across history:
The thirty-fifth psalm gives us what the Lord speaks of in the gospel of Luke (Luke 18:1-8). It is the cry of God's elect, who have suffered since Abel's time at the hand of the persecutor. God will yet pour out judgment for it. Often it is a voiceless cry. Sometimes it is exchanged for another prayer: "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." So it was with Stephen, and with the many others of Christian times, of whom he was the first martyr. At last the cry finds full expression on the lips of the Jewish remnant of the last days.
The psalm is more than one man's private diary. The rescue he asks for has a wider end in view, and another voice speaks behind his:
Psalm 35 is an urgent appeal for the judgment of Jehovah. It calls for judgment on relentless, cunning persecutors who seek the soul of the righteous. His enemies used insult, craft and violence against him… He asks for deliverance so that Jehovah may be praised in the great congregation. That is the full assembly of restored Israel… Christ specially comes in here in spirit.
Can a Christian pray the whole of this psalm as it stands? One writer counts its opening verses among the prayers that call down destruction on enemies, and he warns against forcing them into Christian devotion:
Yet it is fair to suppose this. No believer has ever used them this way, in private and in public, without meeting difficulties he cannot answer. To escape them, he is constantly exposed to the evil of "accommodating" and twisting God's word… So the atmosphere throughout is earthly judicial righteousness, not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel and pray, worship and walk.
The second half of the verse needs no adjusting. "Say to my soul, 'I am your salvation!'" is a prayer any hunted heart can make.
- Helpless. The fight is bigger than the man praying, so he hands the whole case to God.
- Shielded. He first asks for cover. Then the prayer grows bolder and asks God Himself to stand in the road against the pursuers.
- Spoken to. Power alone is not the whole request. The psalmist wants a word delivered to his soul while the danger is still real.
- Personal. The word he asks for names a Person, not a package: God says I am your salvation — spell it "HIM," not "it."
- Shared. The cry is older and wider than one man. It belongs to God's persecuted people through the ages, and it ends in public praise, not private relief.
Let them be put to shame and confounded that seek after my life; let them be turned backward and brought to confusion that devise my hurt
The verse asks God to turn shame back on men who want the psalmist dead and plan his ruin. Two questions follow. How can such a prayer be right? And can a Christian pray it today?
The psalm asks for nothing new against these men. It asks that what they did should come back on them.
The psalm opens by asking God to deal with the wicked in the same way they dealt with the righteous… The soul prays that God would step in against his persecutors, and act for the one they persecute.
The verse names two groups: those who want his life, and those who plan his ruin. Nothing provoked them.
In verses 4 to 10 the psalmist lays out his plea for the destruction of his enemies. They have sought the life of the godly man. They plan to harm him. They have hidden a net in a pit to destroy his soul. They have done all this without cause. When destruction comes on them, the righteous will rejoice in God's salvation, and the Lord will be exalted.
One writer pictures the moment when persecutors learn they never held control.
We can hardly imagine the shame that will press on those who persecuted the godly with such bold arrogance. They thought they held every circumstance in their hands! They will indeed be turned back and thrown into confusion, "like chaff before the wind" (v. 5).
The sufferer does not strike back. He hands the case to God, and that spirit runs through the psalm.
They had first shown patience and tireless grace. That grace did no good. They did not avenge themselves, but threw themselves on the Lord. Only at the end do they look to the Lord for deliverance… It is right that the saints should be patient. They should bear everything until the Lord Himself steps in. That is the spirit of this Psalm, and then it rejoices in the Lord's salvation.
David himself came close to settling a score by his own hand.
David is in danger of letting his anger run free and "avenging [himself] with [his] own hand"… But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. Instead of defending his own rights, he hands his cause over to the Lord.
These words are not bitterness. They are the long cry of persecuted people, and God will answer it.
The thirty-fifth psalm gives us what the Lord speaks of in the gospel of Luke (Luke 18:1-8). It is the cry of God's chosen ones, who have suffered at the hand of the persecutor since Abel's day, and for which judgment will yet be poured out. Often it is a cry without words. Sometimes it is exchanged, as with Stephen, the first Christian martyr, for the prayer that God would not hold the sin against them. At last it finds full expression on the lips of the Jewish remnant of the last days. God's patience is then fast running out, and the prayer is in full harmony with the mind of God. In this psalm it is a fully argued plea, and one which He admits and acts upon. It shows how completely God's judgment sides with all that is good and true, in the unequal conflict between good and evil in a fallen world.
Commentators are careful here. Not every part of the Psalms is written about the Christian.
The whole Bible is for us, but not all of it is about us. Some parts of the Psalms belong to the Lord Jesus only. Some belong to Him and to the remnant. Some may be applied to the Christian now.
The difference is where each one's portion lies.
The Jew has his portion on the earth. He "looks for the removal of the violent and deceitful man, in order for his own comfort and rest. Not so the Christian. He leaves the violent man here and goes to heaven" (JND). This accounts for the prayer for judgment upon enemies found in this psalm, and many others. The Christian is to pray for his enemies. So the psalm does not present Christian experience. Yet the righteous character of God, and the principles of His government shown in the psalm, always remain true.
- Cause — they seek his life and plan his ruin, and they do it without cause. That makes this a plea for justice, not a grudge.
- Committed — he does not avenge himself. After long patience he hands the whole case to God and waits for Him to act.
- Measure — he asks for nothing extra. God should deal with the wicked as they dealt with the righteous.
- Answered — Jesus spoke of this cry of God's chosen ones. God accepts the plea and will act on it. The shame the enemy planned comes back on him.
- Yours? — the whole Bible is for us, but not all about us. God's character never changes, yet the Christian is told to pray for his enemies.
Let them be as chaff before the wind, and let the angel of Jehovah drive [them] away;
Psalm 35 asks God to take up the case of a righteous man hunted without cause. In verse 5 the plea turns sharp: scatter them, and send Your angel after them.
The requests in this psalm come in order. One writer follows that order: the chaff and the chase come only after the psalmist asks God to stand between him and his attackers.
His first thought is of "shield and buckler" — to be placed between him and his foes. But he soon moves on to weapons of attack. He asks Jehovah to stand in the way, spear ready, between him and his pursuers, and to be Himself his salvation. All that God is would then be pledged on his behalf. Then he is free to think more about the enemies. First he prays for their overthrow. Then he asks that the angel of Jehovah chase them, as the wind chases the chaff. Last of all he asks that the way they run may be dark and slippery, so that they fall and rise no more.
The same picture appears elsewhere in the Psalms. One writer describes the farming scene behind it, and who the grain and the chaff stand for.
When grain was trodden on the threshing floor, the wind blew through the open doors at either end and carried the chaff away. The grain pictures believers, and the chaff unbelievers, useless for every practical purpose. But unbelievers are not only blown away. They also face the flame of frightening fire, which is the direct judgment of God, or the storm of God's wrath, a tempest nothing can resist.
One writer reads this verse alongside the psalm just before it, where the same angel works in another way.
The word "encamps" suggests that the angel of the Lord is supported by an army of helpers. The next psalm includes a prayer that the angel of the Lord might chase David's enemies. So he does not only give defensive help and deliverance, as we have seen; he also acts directly against the foe.
Being chased by that pursuer leaves nowhere to run.
In their confusion they will run from the horror of what God inflicts. They find no escape. Instead their way is dark and slippery, so that they go on, terrified, to the destruction their scheming has earned.
Scripture describes two sorts of judgment. This verse belongs to one of them: not the sifting of good from bad, but the storm that falls on open enemies.
The picture of the harvest suggests a judicial inquiry — sorting out the wheat and binding it into its own bundles. The picture of the winepress suggests the ruinous, unsparing storm of God's anger that will devour His enemies... In the discriminating judgment Christ appears as the Son of man. In the second He appears only in His angelic character, as the psalmist prays, "Let them be like chaff before the wind, with the angel of the LORD driving them away!" (Ps. 35:5.)
One writer hears in this psalm more than one man's outburst. He hears a cry that has gone up from the beginning, and that God will answer.
The thirty-fifth psalm gives us what the Lord speaks of in Luke's Gospel (Luke 18:1-8): the cry of God's chosen ones, who have suffered at the hand of the persecutor since Abel's time. God will yet pour out judgment because of that cry. It is often a cry with no words. Sometimes it turns into Stephen's prayer, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." At last it finds full expression on the lips of the Jewish remnant of the last days. God's patience is then fast running out, and the prayer is fully in harmony with the mind of God.
One writer defends this prayer as right, and in the same breath says it is not the ground a Christian stands on now.
The Christian needs to understand this. The Spirit of Christ in His own walk in the world was quite different from the desire for judgment the psalms express, and the Christian's walk should be different too. Yet that desire is righteous and right in its place. It is not self-vengeance. It is an appeal to a delivering and righteous God, made after the sufferer has borne unjust oppression with perfect patience... Still the Christian is on quite different ground.
Others put the same distinction in terms of atmosphere, listing this passage among many like it.
Uniformly, earthly judicial righteousness is the atmosphere here, not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel, pray, worship and walk.
- Pursued, not just punished. The verse asks God to drive the enemies out — first scattered by wind, then chased by His angel, with no place to stand.
- Chaff. The image comes from the threshing floor. The wind carries off what is useless; the grain stays.
- The angel turns. The angel who protects and delivers is here asked to act against the foe.
- Unsparing, not sifting. This is winepress judgment on open enemies, not the harvest that sorts one from another.
- Right, but not yet ours. The cry matches God's mind, and God will answer it. Yet the Christian stands on different ground and walks another way.
Let their way be dark and slippery, and let the angel of Jehovah pursue them.
This verse closes a rising series of requests. First a shield and spear for the righteous, then chaff before the wind for the enemy, and now a dark, slippery road with the angel of the Lord at their heels. Two hard questions follow: what judgment does the psalm ask for, and may a believer pray this way today?
The psalm begins with a man asking for cover, then for a weapon. Only after that does he turn to look at his pursuers. This verse is the last step in that movement.
He soon moves on to weapons of attack. He asks the Lord to stand in the road, with spear leveled between him and those chasing him — to be Himself his salvation. All that God is would then be pledged on his behalf. Then he is free to think more about his enemies. He prays first for their downfall and overthrow. Next, that the angel of the Lord chase them as the wind chases chaff. Last, that the road they are chased along may be dark and slippery, so that they fall and rise no more.
The two words describe a flight with no exit. The runners cannot see, cannot keep their footing, and cannot stop.
"Let the angel of the Lord chase them." In their confusion they will run from the horror of a divine infliction, but finding no escape, they find instead that their way is dark and slippery, so that they proceed, terrified, to the destruction that is the result of their conniving ways.
The request is not for random disaster. It asks God to give the wicked the same treatment they gave the righteous.
The psalm opens by asking God to deal with the wicked as they had dealt with the righteous. "Contend, O Lord, with those who contend with me; fight against those who fight against me." The soul prays that God would step in against his persecutors, and act for the one they persecute.
Two verses later the psalm names the mechanism. The trap set for someone else does the work.
Having no cause for it, the ungodly had a net hidden in a pit to catch the righteous, and were caught in their own net. This is the same result that Haman received by his building a scaffold on which to hang Mordecai. He was himself hanged on it! (Esther 7:9-10).
The dark road is not a picture of the afterlife. It belongs to how God orders matters here.
This psalm shows at length how God will in the end bring the wicked and the persecutors to shame and judgment. The poor and needy who serve the Lord will be rescued and made to prosper. That will come on the day when God brings their enemies to confusion and ruin. Those enemies will be like chaff before the wind, treading a dark and slippery road to destruction. This is how God governs and deals with them in this life. There is of course the dark pit of hell before them in the life to come, but that is not the theme of the psalm.
This is not the wording a believer reaches for now.
The language of this psalm is not at all what Christians today should use. We have the privilege of living in the day of grace. So we may prefer the words of the Lord Jesus, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do" (Luke 23:34). Or those of Stephen as he died for his faith, "Lord, do not charge them with this sin" (Acts 7:60).
Christ Himself asks for judgment in this psalm. His words in the Gospels sound the same note.
Notice one thing here — the Lord Jesus pleads for judgment upon the persecutor and the enemy. But we should be ready for this... If we hear Him pronouncing judgment even in the Psalms, that is no more than His language in the Gospels — "See, your house is left to you desolate," or, as He also says, "Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida!"
- Pursuit. This verse ends a prayer that starts with a shield. It closes with the enemy running blind, chased, and unable to stand.
- Reversal. The judgment matches the crime. The net hidden for someone else catches the one who hid it, as Haman died on his own scaffold.
- Government. The dark road is how God deals with them in this life. It is not a picture of hell; that lies outside the psalm's subject.
- Restraint. Believers now pray the words of Jesus at the cross and of Stephen, not the words of this psalm.
- Voice. Yet the plea for judgment is not foreign to Christ. In the Gospels He pronounces the same sentence on those who refused Him.
For without cause have they hidden for me their net [in] a pit; without cause they have digged [it] for my soul.
Twice in one line the sufferer says he gave them no reason for this. They hid a net in a pit for him, which raises the question every wronged person asks: what do you do when harm is secret and undeserved?
The psalm has just prayed for these enemies' destruction. This verse supplies the argument, and the argument is that they had no reason at all.
Now he brings his plea for their destruction. First, there is the causelessness of their plots against him. Their net is hidden carefully in the pit into which he is to fall. Then, that net will only serve to let their own trap catch them. They themselves are the cause of their own destruction, and surely no one is to blame for it but themselves… The plea, brief as it is, has in it all the elements of successful prayer.
The word behind "pit" is not a hole in the road. It belongs to the language of trapping.
shachath, "a pit, a pitfall to entrap animals," a place of doom and corruption.
That is the picture: a man hunted like an animal.
They have sought after the life of the godly man. They plan how to hurt him. They have hidden a net in a pit to destroy his soul. All this they have done without cause.
The hidden net catches someone — just not the man it was set for.
Having no cause for it, the ungodly hid a net in a pit to catch the righteous, and were caught in their own net. This is the same result that Haman received by building a scaffold on which to hang Mordecai. He was himself hanged on it (Esther 7:9-10)! Destruction came on him unexpectedly.
"Without cause" runs through this psalm — verse 7 twice, and again later in verse 19. Jesus took that phrase up and applied it to Himself.
God was in perfect control. He had foretold this in "their law," where the Messiah is represented as saying, "They hated me without a cause" (Ps. 35:19). So the Jews fulfilled their own scriptures without knowing it, by hating and rejecting Christ. Nothing can stop the fulfilment of the word of God.
But could David really say that no one had any cause against him?
David might speak of the wicked and deceitful as fighting against him "without a cause." True, no doubt, in a general way. But take these words in the most absolute and searching way, and there is only One to whom they fully apply. He has applied them to Himself, as we see in John 15:25. No one but He could face the crowd of His hostile critics with the question, "Which one of you convicts me of sin?" No one else ever died the criminal's death of crucifixion as He did and still received such testimonies. The judge, a fellow sufferer and the officer in charge each spoke of Him. Their words were: "I find no guilt in him." "This man has done nothing wrong." "Certainly this man was innocent."
The psalm asks God to deal with these people. It does not show a man striking back.
They look to the Lord for deliverance only at the end. It comes after patience and unwearied grace, when that grace has done no good. There is no self-avenging; they cast themselves on the Lord instead… Only when he is about to be swallowed up does he look to the Lord Himself to step in, and so He will. The poor will not be forgotten forever. It is not right that heartless, unjust and cruel evil should always have the upper hand unchecked.
- Cause — The plea of this psalm stands on one word: without cause. Nothing the sufferer did explains the trap laid for him.
- Concealment — The pit is a hunter's pitfall for animals, with a net hidden in it. The wrong is not open attack but planned ambush.
- Recoil — What is hidden for another catches its maker. Haman built a scaffold to hang another man and was hanged on it himself; the plotters cause their own ruin.
- Christ — Only One could say "without a cause" absolutely, and He did. Judge, fellow sufferer and officer all testified He was innocent.
- Committal — The sufferer never avenges himself. After long patience he casts himself on the Lord and leaves the reckoning with Him.
Let destruction come upon him unawares, and let his net which he hath hidden catch himself for destruction let him fall therein.
The hunted man asks that the hidden net do its work on the one who set it. Two questions follow. Why should the ruin come from the man's own trap? And can a Christian today pray these words at all?
Verses 7 and 8 belong together: first the hidden net and the pit, then the snap-back on the one who dug them.
Now he brings his plea for their destruction. First, there was no cause for their plots against him. Their net was hidden with care in the pit into which he is to fall. Then, it will only serve to let their own trap catch them. They are the cause of their own destruction, and no one will be to blame but themselves. The Lord will then become the joy of his soul, and that in the experience of one who is needy and afflicted, with no other helper. The righteous and the wicked, God and His creature man, will all be in their right place. The plea, brief as it is, has in it all the elements of successful prayer.
The phrase "when he does not know it" marks how the fall comes: with no warning, at a time the plotter never chose. One story shows it plainly.
Having no cause for it, the ungodly had a net hidden in a pit to catch the righteous, and were caught in their own net. This is the same result that Haman received by building a scaffold on which to hang Mordecai. He was himself hanged on it! (Esther 7:9-10). Destruction came on him unexpectedly, as will be the case with the ungodly at the end of the Great Tribulation (v. 8).
Haman built the gallows for another man and died on it. The pattern is wider than one story.
Again, when a mischievous man digs a pit for others, he is made to fall into it. When he rolls a stone at his neighbour's head, it rolls back on himself. Even pagans expressed their sense of such payback in this life, though they did not know God.
The psalm is not one private man venting. Commentators read it as the Spirit of Christ speaking for a faithful group who suffer in a day still to come.
Psalm 35. Here we have a full and true sense of the power and wickedness of evil. He looks for judgment against the oppressive wicked. Here Christ enters into it all, in sympathy with the remnant. They are in view, and even tested by their sympathy with Him. Christ pleads in Spirit for judgment, which will be the deliverance of the Remnant.
The request in verse 8 is not the first move. It comes after long kindness that met only hostility.
Still this psalm shows us the spirit in which they ask for judgment. It came after patience and tireless grace. That grace did no good. There was no self-avenging; they cast themselves on the Lord. Only at the end do they look to the Lord for deliverance. This is important to notice about the judgment they look for (see verses 12-14). And only when he would be swallowed up does he look to the Lord Himself to step in — and so He will. God will not forget the poor for ever. It is not right that heartless, unjust and cruel evil should keep the upper hand unchecked.
David felt the pull to settle the account himself.
David is in danger of giving free vent to his indignation and of "avenging himself with his own hand" (vv. 26, 34)... But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. Instead of defending his rights himself he commits his cause to the Lord: "Awake and rouse Yourself for my vindication, for my cause, my God and my Lord!" (v. 23)... and he commits judgment to Him: "Let destruction come upon him when he does not know it!" (v. 8).
Commentators are careful here. The psalm is righteous, but a Christian today does not pray in these words. The difference is where each one's portion lies.
The Jew has his portion on the earth: "for the meek shall inherit the earth, and shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace So he looks for the removal of the violent and deceitful man, to have his own comfort and rest. Not so the Christian. He leaves the violent man here and goes to heaven. He walks, as to his personal walk, in the time of grace, and leaves it for glory... Now his place is wholly grace and patience.
- Cause. No one provoked the attack. The trouble began on the attacker's side, so the blame for what follows rests nowhere else.
- Recoil. The prayer is not for a random punishment but for the plotter's own device to close on him — Haman hanged on his own gallows.
- Surprise. "When he does not know it" describes the timing: ruin arrives on God's schedule, not the schemer's.
- Patience first. Verses 12-14 show grace already spent on these enemies. Only when he was about to be swallowed up does he ask God to step in. He never avenges himself.
- Place. The psalm is righteous. But the Christian's portion is heaven, not rest on earth, and his walk now is grace and patience.
And my soul shall be joyful in Jehovah; it shall rejoice in his salvation.
Psalm 35 is a hunted man's cry for God to take up weapons and fight for him, and the first eight verses are all plea and pursuit. Verse 9 turns. Nothing has changed yet, but the sufferer speaks of joy. Commentators ask whose joy this is and what it rests on.
This joy comes late. One writer notes what had to come first: long grace toward the enemy, and no private revenge.
This psalm shows us the spirit in which judgment is asked for. The judgment comes only after patience and tireless grace. That grace did no good. There was no taking of revenge; instead they cast themselves on the Lord. Only at the end do they look to the Lord for deliverance… Only when he was about to be swallowed up does he look to the Lord Himself to step in — and He will. The poor will not always be forgotten. It is not right that heartless, unjust, and cruel evil should always have the upper hand unchecked.
The joy rests on the Lord Himself, not on the rescue alone. The one who rejoices has nothing else to fall back on.
The Lord will thus become the exultation of his soul, and that as found in the experience of one needy and afflicted, having no other helper. The righteous and the wicked, God and His creature man, will thus all be in their right place. The plea, brief as it is, has in it all the elements of successful prayer.
Commentators read the sufferer's voice in more than one way. Some hear Christ Himself in the psalm, matching its details to His trial.
We may read this psalm as the silent thinking of the afflicted soul of Jesus as He stood before Pilate. He pleads with God both for His own rescue and for the judgment and confusion of His persecutors. You can hear the "false witnesses" of verse 11 in Matthew 26:59, and see the worthless men of verse 15 in Luke 23:1.
Others hear a faithful group of Israelites in a coming time of pressure. Christ's Spirit shapes what they feel and say.
As usual, it is the Spirit of Christ guiding the remnant. He teaches them to feel and weigh everything in relation to their own state and position… Here He pleads for judgment on the wicked. That judgment will surely come to deliver godly Jews.
Verse 8 has the schemer caught in his own hidden net. Verse 9 is the answering note. One writer points to a moment in Israel's past when the same reversal brought public joy, then lets verse 10 finish the thought.
Just as the Jews rejoiced after Haman's tragic end, so the godly will rejoice in the Lord and in the marvel of His great salvation. That will be when Christ is exalted as King of kings, as the millennium dawns (v. 9). "All my bones," the very framework of the body, will respond, "O LORD, who is like you, delivering the poor from him who is too strong for him, the poor and needy from him who robs him?" (v. 10).
The joy is not kept private. He asks for rescue with public praise already in view.
Psalm 35 is an urgent appeal for the judgment of the Lord. It is aimed at relentless and cunning persecutors who seek the soul of the righteous. They used insult, craft, and violence against him… He asks for deliverance so that the Lord may be praised in the great congregation, that is, the full assembly of restored Israel.
Verse 9 ends a prayer for judgment. One writer warns against taking the whole psalm as our own words.
The language of this psalm is by no means what Christians today are expected to use. We have the privilege of living in the day of grace. So we may prefer the words of the Lord Jesus, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). Or the words of Stephen as he died for his faith, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" (Acts 7:60).
- Patience first. The joy of verse 9 comes after long grace, no revenge, and casting oneself on the Lord.
- The Lord Himself. The soul rejoices in the Lord Himself, not just in the escape. The one who says it is needy, afflicted, and has no other helper.
- Whose voice. Commentators differ. Some hear the suffering Jesus before Pilate. Others hear a faithful group of Israelites taught by His Spirit.
- The turn. The trap springs back on the trapper, and the song begins. Then the whole frame of the body asks who is like the Lord.
- Spoken out. The rescue is asked for with public praise in view — the great congregation. Yet the Christian today prays, "Father, forgive them."
All my bones shall say, Jehovah, who is like unto thee, who deliverest the afflicted from one stronger than he, yea, the afflicted and the needy from him that spoileth him!
Psalm 35 is the prayer of a man under attack: false witnesses, a hidden net, and hatred without cause. In verse 10 his voice turns from pleading to praise, and every bone in his body joins the song.
Verse 10 closes a section where the sufferer lists what his enemies do and asks God to undo it.
In verses 4 to 10 the psalmist sets out his plea for the destruction of his enemies. They have sought after the life of the godly man; they plan his hurt; they have hidden a net in a pit to destroy his soul. All this they have done without cause. When destruction comes upon them, the righteous will rejoice in God's salvation; and the Lord will be exalted. People will say, "Who is like You?"
The phrase "all my bones" points back to the psalm just before this one.
Notice that all the "bones" were kept safe in the psalm before this one (see Ps. 34:20). Here the psalm shows them praising and giving thanks (v. 10).
"The poor" here is not only a description of a condition. It is a title that follows Christ through the Psalms.
How truly the Lord Jesus, though "rich in glory" (see Phil. 4:19), was "the poor man," as He is again called in Psalm 35:10 and Psalm 41:1. We know Him like this in the Gospels, blessed be His name!
His poverty was real, but it was not the whole truth about Him.
Jesus stood among a world of sinners as a poor and needy man (verse 10). Yet beneath that outward poverty lay the hidden and endless wealth of God. Darkness had the power to afflict. The obedient One who fulfilled all righteousness had the power of gracious endurance. They thought God had struck Him down. In their eager wickedness they surrounded the life of Him who did no sin with hatred that had no cause.
The verse names an enemy stronger than the victim — a plunderer. One writer sees that picture answered in the ministry of Jesus, where a stronger hand takes the prey back.
As the Lord said, "But no one can enter a strong man's house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man. Then indeed he may plunder his house." This He had already done Himself. He had resisted the temptations of the strong and crafty one in the wilderness. He had also delivered a great number of people held by demons. And soon He would bruise the serpent's head, through death bringing to nothing him who had the power of death (Heb. 2:14)... And if only Israel had faith, they might well sing praise with the Psalmist.
Commentators differ on who is speaking in this psalm. One reads it as the inward thoughts of Jesus during His trial, and matches its lines to the Gospel accounts.
We may read this Psalm as the silent thoughts of the suffering soul of Jesus as He stood before Pilate. He pleads with God both for His own rescue and for the judgment and confusion of His persecutors. We hear the "false witnesses" of verse 11 in Matthew 26:59, and we see the "wretches" of verse 15 in Luke 23:1.
Another sees the Spirit of Christ at work in a persecuted people, shaping their prayers.
As usual, it is the Spirit of Christ guiding the remnant, the faithful few among the Jews, as they feel and weigh everything in the light of their state and position. This is not Christ suffering all in His own person for God's glory... Here He pleads for judgment on the wicked, which will surely come to deliver godly Jews.
The praise of verse 10 looks forward to a reversal, when the weak are the ones left standing.
Just as the Jews rejoiced after Haman's tragic end, so the godly will rejoice in the Lord and in the wonder of His great salvation. This will happen when Christ is exalted as King of kings and the millennium, His thousand-year reign, dawns (v. 9)... The tables will be so turned that Zephaniah 3:12 declares, "But I will leave in your midst a people humble and lowly. They shall seek refuge in the name of the LORD."
(Grant quoted an older translation of Zephaniah. The ESV wording appears here.)
- Cry — The praise grows out of a prayer against enemies who hunted a man's life without cause.
- Poverty — "The poor" is a name Christ wears through the Psalms; under that poverty lay the endless wealth of God.
- Stronger — The enemy is too strong for his victim. Christ binds the strong man and plunders his house.
- Bones — The bones God kept safe in the previous psalm now give thanks. Rescue claims the whole person.
- Reversal — Commentators differ over the voice here. Some hear Christ before Pilate; others hear His Spirit in a persecuted people. Both look to the day when the humble and lowly are left to sing.
Unrighteous witnesses rise up; they lay to my charge things which I know not.
David is under attack. The weapon is not a sword but a courtroom. Men stand up and charge him with things he knows nothing about. Two questions follow. What are these witnesses doing? And why does this psalm keep turning up in the trial of Jesus?
One writer calls them "unrighteous witnesses" and gives the literal sense of the word.
The psalm affirms his personal righteousness first. The witnesses are unrighteous — literally, witnesses of violence, who twist things by force to make out their charges. They laid against him things his conscience was entirely free of.
They are not reporting what he did. They are bending the facts until they hold a charge.
Commentators read this verse beyond David. They take it as the words of Christ Himself. One writer follows its details into His trial.
We may read this Psalm as a silent musing of the afflicted soul of Jesus as He stood before Pilate. He pleads with God both for His own rescue and for the judgment and confusion of His persecutors. The "false witnesses" of verse 11 turn up in Matthew 26:59.
What makes it worse is who did it. The accusers were the very men appointed to guard the law against this exact crime.
As a nation, Israel was specially guilty of false witness against the Messiah. The Spirit of Christ foreshadowed this sin in the prophets. So when, at the right time, the Anointed One presented Himself to the chosen people, it was not the rabble who sought false witness against Jesus to put Him to death. It was the religious chiefs of the Jews — themselves breaking, in this respect, the law they were set to administer.
The verses that follow show the accused had done these people nothing but good. One writer explains why goodness did not win them.
The baseness of the flesh shows itself remarkably here. Not even the presence of Goodness itself could win it to the love of goodness. Seeing the grace of Jesus in His works, it hated Him because He witnessed of the Father. They fed eagerly on the good things that grew at the Lord's bidding to meet their bodily needs. Then they turned like swine to tear the gracious hand that gave out those blessings so freely for their sakes.
The striking thing in this psalm is what the accused man does not do. He does not fight back.
False witnesses laid to his charge things he was innocent of. They rewarded him evil for good. In these hard circumstances the sufferer showed no indignation. There was no reviling, no rebellion against the circumstances. Instead he submitted before God: "I humbled my soul with fasting." And he showed grace to the persecutors: "I behaved myself as though he had been my friend or brother."
That pattern reached its perfection at the trial of Jesus. Silence met the malice. A challenge about His Person met an answer.
In the presence of all this enmity and malice the Lord "held His peace, and answered nothing." To the accusations of malice He had nothing to say. But when challenged about the glory of His Person, He witnesses to the truth without hesitation, whatever it costs. He is the perfect example for all His servants.
Many count a lie about their name a smaller trouble than violence. One writer disagrees.
Let us take care not to become persecutors. Some think there is no persecution but fire and sword; but there is persecution of the tongue. Reviling counts as persecution — "men shall revile you and persecute you." That is tongue persecution. You may kill a man in his name as well as in his person, and a good name is like precious ointment. They charged Christ, who cast out demons, with having a demon.
Keeping quiet under a lie is not the same as agreeing with it. It leaves the answer with someone else.
If we keep silence when insulted, it is not that there is no answer to evil and malice, but that the answer is left with God. We are never to try to take vengeance on the wrongdoer. God keeps all vengeance in His own hands.
- Twisted — The accusers are "witnesses of violence." They bend the facts to build a charge, harming the truth before they harm the man.
- Innocent — His conscience knows nothing of the charges. They repay the good he did them with evil.
- Fulfilled — The false witnesses of this verse stand up again at the trial of Jesus. The men who broke the law against false witness were the ones appointed to enforce it.
- Silent — Under malice He answered nothing; under a challenge about who He is, He spoke at once. Learn which is which.
- Committed — Slander is real persecution, but silence hands the case to God, who keeps all vengeance in His own hands.
They reward me evil for good, [to] the bereavement of my soul.
Psalm 35 is the prayer of a man surrounded by false witnesses. Verse 12 names his wound — kindness given, cruelty returned — and raises two questions: what does such treatment do to a person, and what should he do with it?
Verse 12 sits inside verses 11 to 16, which put the charges against the sufferer beside his answer to them.
In verses 11 to 16 the psalmist lays out before the Lord what the godly man went through in this trial, and how he acted. False witnesses charged him with things he had not done. They paid him back evil for good. Yet in all this hardship the sufferer showed no anger. He did not insult them. He did not rebel against what was happening. Instead he bowed before God — "I humbled my soul with fasting" — and showed grace to his persecutors — "I treated him as though he were my friend or brother."
The last phrase speaks of loss. Older translations read it as "to the spoiling of my soul" or "the bereaving of my soul" — being left without. One writer takes it as the loss of support the sufferer had every right to expect from the people he had helped.
He knew only the good he had done them. They paid it back with evil. So his soul stood alone, stripped of the support that good should have earned him. Then he shows what his attitude toward them had really been, and shows it before God Himself. When they were sick, he had fasted and prayed, even in sackcloth. He had mourned them as for friends — yes, brother or mother.
One writer finds these words in David's own life, at a moment when he was close to avenging himself with his own hand.
David is in danger of giving free vent to his indignation and of "avenging himself with his own hand" (vv. 26, 34). This is where, it seems to me, the experience of Psalm 35 is found: "They reward me evil for good" (v. 12; cf. 1 Sam. 25:21)… But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. Instead of defending his rights himself he commits his cause to the Lord: "Stir up Yourself, and awake for my right, for my cause, my God and Lord" (v. 23).
Some writers read these verses as the words of Jesus and match their details to His trial.
This Psalm may be read as a silent musing of the afflicted soul of Jesus as He stood before Pilate. He pleads with God both for His own rescue and for the judgment and confusion of His persecutors. The "false witnesses" of verse 11 are heard in Matthew 26:59; the "abjects" of verse 15 are seen in Luke 23:1.
Read this way, verse 12 shows what human nature does when perfect goodness stands in front of it.
Verses 11 to 16 set two things side by side. On one side is the pure sympathy of Jesus. He entered with all the gracious reality of perfect love into human sorrow and distress, Himself taking our sorrows and bearing our griefs. On the other side is the deep selfishness and treachery of corrupted nature. Here the flesh shows its unspeakable baseness in a striking way. It could not be won to the love of goodness even by the presence of Goodness itself.
Commentators differ here. Another writer allows the experience without insisting that Christ Himself is the speaker.
It is doubtful whether Christ Himself is seen in these two psalms. Yet He has passed through these circumstances, and on certain points they found a literal fulfilment in Him.
Returning evil for good is not a small fault that God overlooks. One writer shows where such evil lands. Not even a king's house was spared.
Ingratitude too is an evil of no small size, and the face of God is set against such sheer baseness as rewarding evil for good. If anyone is guilty of this, evil shall not depart from his house. Even when it was Satan's snare for the highest man in the land, usually the most generous of men, the Lord did not and could not overlook it. The sword did not depart from his house. He had given in to his passion, and then spent the blood of a faithful servant to hide his own sin.
- Good given. The sufferer had done these people nothing but good. He fasted, prayed and mourned for them when they were sick, as if for a brother.
- Evil returned. They paid that good back with false charges and cruelty. Goodness itself stood in front of them, and even that could not win them.
- The soul stripped. His soul is left bereft. He stands alone, without the support he had every right to expect.
- The cause handed over. David did not avenge himself. He asked God to take up his right and his cause — the lesson God had been teaching him.
- The account settled. God's face is set against repaying good with evil. The sufferer can leave the reckoning with Him.
But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth; I chastened my soul with fasting, and my prayer returned into mine own bosom
This psalm asks God to fight against relentless enemies. Right in the middle of it, the writer recalls how he had treated those same people when they fell ill — which raises a hard question: how can anyone pray for the good of people who are hunting him?
The psalm as a whole pleads for God to act against the attackers. Verse 13 sits inside that plea and shows how the godly man had treated them.
Psalm 35 is an urgent appeal for the judgment of Jehovah against relentless and cunning persecutors who are after the soul of the righteous. They used insult, trickery and violence against him... In verses 13 and 14 we see the grace with which the godly man (Christ Himself) dealt with these enemies. This is true of the godly in general, but Christ especially comes in here in spirit.
Two things are missing from the sufferer's response. He does not hit back, and he does not complain about his situation.
False witnesses charged him with things he had never done. They paid him back evil for good. In these hard circumstances the sufferer showed no anger. There were no insults and no rebellion against his situation. Instead there was submission before God — "I afflicted myself with fasting" — and grace toward the persecutors — "I went about as though I grieved for my friend or my brother."
Fasting here is not a religious performance. It points to something happening inside the man.
The meaning of fasting is seen most clearly in Psalm 35:13... So we see that the fasting which pleased God in the Old Testament was the expression of an inward humbling.
Real sorrow stands out most next to grief that is only staged. At the house of Jairus, whose daughter had died, Jesus rebuked the paid mourners. This verse is the measure that showed their display was empty. Older versions end verse 13 with "my prayer returned into my own bosom."
The Lord was severe with them because of their hypocrisy and sham. Their sympathy was not sincere, unlike the sympathy the psalmist wrote about: "I wore sackcloth; I afflicted myself with fasting; I prayed with head bowed on my chest."
Left to itself, hostility breeds hostility. Something other than natural temperament is at work here.
He knew he had done nothing but good to his enemies, yet they were paying him back with evil (v. 12). Even when they were sick, he humbled himself in prayer for them. Only someone whose trust is in the Lord can act like this. Hostility from one person usually stirs bitter hostility in those it touches. But here David wanted his enemies blessed, as though they had been his friends or brothers, or even his mother (v. 14).
The psalm holds two things together: kindness poured out on enemies, and a plea for God to judge them. Commentators mark the difference between the ground the psalmist stood on and the ground a Christian stands on today.
Christians need to understand this. The Spirit of Christ in His own walk in the world was quite different from the desire for judgment expressed in the psalms, and the Christian's spirit should be different too. Yet that desire is righteous and right in its place. It is not personal revenge. It is an appeal to a righteous God who delivers, made after the heart has waited with perfect patience under unjust oppression, bowing to the will of God and learning the lesson He had to teach... Still the Christian is on quite different ground.
- Humbling — The fasting and sackcloth here are not ritual. They are the outward form of an inward humbling that God accepted.
- Grace — That humbling was spent on enemies. Verses 13 and 14 are the grace shown to the very people the psalm asks God to deal with.
- Silence — Under false accusation he showed no anger, no insults, no rebellion. There was only submission before God and kindness toward his persecutors.
- Sincerity — The mourning was genuine. It became the standard that exposed the hollow, paid grief Jesus rebuked at Jairus' house.
- Ground — Only trust in the Lord produces this, because hostility usually breeds hostility. The appeal for judgment was right in its place, but commentators stress that the Christian now stands on different ground.
I behaved myself as though [he had been] a friend, a brother to me; I bowed down in sadness, as one that mourneth [for] a mother.
Psalm 35 is a cry for God to step in against enemies who hunt an innocent man. At verse 14 the psalmist stops accusing them. He describes instead how he had treated them: with the grief you give a family member. Why would a man under attack speak of his attackers this way? And whose voice are we hearing?
The verse sits inside a list of wrongs. One writer walks through the false charges, then reaches what the sufferer really felt toward these people.
Unrighteous witnesses laid against him things his conscience was entirely free of. Literally they were witnesses of violence, twisting things to make out their charges. Instead, he was conscious only of good that he had done them, and they repaid it with evil. So his soul stood alone, stripped of the support it might have counted on. Then he shows what his state toward them had really been, and that before God Himself. When they were sick, he had fasted and prayed, even in sackcloth. He had mourned them as for friends — yes, as brother or mother.
Hostility breeds hostility. So where did this man's kindness come from? One commentator points to its source.
Even when they were sick, he humbled himself in prayer on their behalf. Only a man whose trust is in the Lord can act like this. Hatred from one person usually stirs bitter hatred in those it touches. But here David desired the blessing of enemies as though they had been friends or brothers, or even as his mother (v. 14).
One writer ties these verses to a moment in David's life. David was close to taking revenge with his own hand.
David is in danger of giving free rein to his indignation and of "avenging himself with his own hand" (vv. 26, 34). This is where, it seems to me, the experience of Psalm 35 is found: "They reward me evil for good" (v. 12; compare 1 Sam. 25:21)… "I went about as though I grieved for my friend or my brother" (v. 14)… But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. Instead of defending his rights himself he commits his cause to the Lord.
Much of Psalm 35 asks God to judge. Verses 13 and 14 do not. One writer marks these two verses as the place where a greater voice than David's comes through.
Psalm 35 is an urgent appeal for Jehovah to judge relentless and cunning persecutors. They seek after the soul of the righteous… In verses 13, 14, we see the grace in which the godly (Christ Himself) dealt with these enemies. Though this is generally true of the godly, Christ specially comes in here in spirit.
Commentators differ on how far the psalm portrays Christ personally. One writer is not sure Christ's voice runs all through the psalm. But He has been through these very circumstances, and "in certain points, there has been in Him a literal fulfilment" — verses 10-14 among them (Whybrow).
Verse 14 is not a detour from the psalm's demand for justice. It sets the order in which a believer may ask.
Still this psalm shows us the spirit in which they ask for judgment. First came patience and unwearied grace. When that grace did no good, there was still no self-avenging. They cast themselves on the Lord, and only at the end do they look to Him for deliverance. This is important to notice about the judgment they look for. (See verses 12-14.) … It is right that the saints should be patient — bear all till the Lord Himself steps in.
The verse describes bowing down in mourning — the outward signs of sorrow. Those signs can be faked. One writer sets this psalm beside a scene at the house of Jairus, whose daughter had died. There Jesus rejected grief that was only for show.
The Lord was Himself always tender and gracious to the distressed and afflicted. Yet He rebuked the display of hollow, routine grief over the daughter of Jairus… This severity of the Lord was aimed at their hypocrisy and sham. Their sympathy was not sincere, unlike the sympathy the psalmist wrote about.
- Cause. They repaid good with evil and brought charges he was innocent of, leaving him standing alone.
- Grace. His answer was fasting, sackcloth and prayer for them — treating enemies as friend, brother, even mother.
- Source. Such a response is not natural; it belongs to a man whose trust is in the Lord, and who leaves his rights with God.
- Christ. Writers hear in verses 13-14 the grace of Christ Himself toward His persecutors. They differ on how far the psalm is personally His.
- Result. Tireless grace came first, and he refused to avenge himself. Only then does the psalm ask God to step in.
But at my halting they rejoiced, and gathered together the slanderers gathered themselves together against me, and I knew [it] not; they did tear [me], and ceased not
David had fasted and mourned for his enemies as if they were friends or family. Then his own foot slipped, and the crowd that had received his kindness gathered to celebrate. Why does goodness provoke such hatred? And how far can that hatred go?
One term in this verse appears in no other place in the Bible, and translators have handled it in very different ways.
This word occurs only in Psalm 35:15. The root means "to smite." Horsley translates it "smiters were gathered together against me." The Septuagint has "Plagues were plentifully brought against me." Hengstenberg keeps "abjects," and says, "the smitten are men of the lowest grade, the poorest" — men the psalmist said he did not know.
So the attackers are either those who strike, or the poorest and lowest in society. Either way, the sufferer says he did not know them.
The psalmist had fasted and mourned for these same people.
False witnesses charged him with things of which he was innocent. They rewarded him evil for good. In these hard circumstances the sufferer showed no anger. He did not insult anyone. He did not rebel against what was happening. Instead he submitted before God — "I humbled my soul with fasting." He showed grace to the persecutors — "I behaved myself as though he had been my friend or brother." Yet the hatred of his persecutors "ceased not." Their hatred was all in vain, so they gnashed at the godly man with their teeth.
Their joy at his fall had a cause: his character.
No doubt the kindness and truth of his character was offensive to them, as was the case with those who persecuted the Lord Jesus. Those who are faithless cannot bear the company of the faithful and gracious. They feel condemned, and they resent what they consider a "holier than thou" attitude. This is painful enough when one person acts this way, but David says that "they gathered together." This was certainly true of the Pharisees in their plotting against the Lord Jesus. "When the Pharisees heard that He had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together." They did this to consult with one another about how they could attack the Lord.
The gathering is the sting. Private dislike becomes an organised campaign.
Commentators read this part of the psalm as reaching beyond David to Christ. In Him the contrast between love and hatred is complete.
Verses 11-16 contrast the pure sympathy of Jesus with the deep-rooted selfishness and treachery of corrupted nature. He entered with all the gracious reality of perfect love into human sorrow and distress. He Himself took our sorrows and bore our griefs. The baseness of the flesh shows itself remarkably here. It could not be won to love goodness even by the presence of Goodness itself.
The details of the verse fit Him — the mixed crowd, the day of trouble, the tearing that would not stop.
To the scum of the rabble, as well as to the leaders of the people, He was an object of hateful contempt in the day of His adversity. They tore Him, and did not stop. Yet He spoke no rebukes. He did bear sad witness to the madness of their way: "I have shown you many good works from my Father; for which of these works do you stone me?" But they hated Him without a cause.
The tearing did not stop, but it had a limit. One writer reads the gnashing teeth of the next verse as a sign of frustration.
And now, at the slightest sign of evil on his part, evil tongues rang out against him. He was not ready for it at all. With mocking hangers-on, they gnashed their teeth — in vain, for God had set them their limit. I think this is what the gnashing of the teeth implies: a limit against which they chafed. They were conscious, as it were, of a fence they were not allowed to pass. It was invisible, but God had put it round His beloved.
So how should a Christian pray words like these? One writer draws a line between this psalm's language and the day of grace.
The language of this psalm is by no means what Christians today are expected to use. We have the privilege of living in the day of grace. In that day we may prefer the words of the Lord Jesus, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." We may prefer the words of Stephen at his martyrdom, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them."
- Kindness first. The sufferer had fasted and mourned for these people as for a friend or brother. Verse 15 shows what that kindness received back.
- Kindness offends. The unfaithful cannot bear faithful company. It makes them feel condemned.
- Kindness gets surrounded. Private resentment gets organised. They gathered, and even strangers the psalmist never knew joined the tearing.
- Kindness is fenced. One writer reads the gnashing as rage against a limit. God set an invisible fence around His beloved, and the attackers could not cross it.
- Kindness answers. The psalm cries for judgment. The Christian, living in the day of grace, prays with Jesus and Stephen: forgive them.
With profane jesters for bread, they have gnashed their teeth against me.
Psalm 35 is David's appeal to God against persecutors who repaid his kindness with cruelty. Verse 16 catches their malice at a meal, which an older translation renders "profane jesters for bread."
This verse ends a sequence. In verses 11 to 15 a slandered man fasts and treats his attackers as friends. Their gnashing teeth answer that kindness.
In verses 11 to 16 the psalmist sets out before the Lord what the godly man went through in this trial, and how he behaved. False witnesses charged him with things of which he was innocent. They rewarded him evil for good. In these hard circumstances the sufferer showed no anger, no insults, no rebellion against what he faced. Instead he submitted before God: "I humbled my soul with fasting." And he showed grace to the persecutors: "I behaved myself as though he had been my friend or brother." Still, the enmity of his persecutors "ceased not." Their enmity was all in vain, so they gnashed at the godly with their teeth.
The mockers sneer while they eat. Religion and ridicule can sit at the same table, as they did at one Passover.
If this tearing and mocking was true of David, how much more of Christ! Religious leaders could not bear His faithful teaching, so they tried every method they could to attack Him. They could outwardly keep the feast of the Passover, yet at the same time indulge in ungodly mocking! (v. 16). David felt his enemies gnashing their teeth at him. The Lord's persecutors went further. They spat in His face and beat Him (Matthew 26:67).
Their fury never reaches him, and one writer explains what stopped it.
And now, at the least sign of evil on his part, evil tongues rang out against him, and he was wholly unprepared for it. With mocking hangers-on, they gnashed their teeth — in vain, for God had set them their limit. (This, I think, is what the gnashing of the teeth means: a limit they chafed against. They were aware of an invisible fence that God had put round His beloved, and they were not allowed to pass it.)
The hatred answers character, not injury. Something in a godly life stings them.
Their hatred is so deep that it moves them to gnash their teeth. Why is this so? It is certainly not that believers harm or threaten them. It seems as clear as can be that the godly character of believers is a testimony that grates on their consciences. They resent a testimony that exposes them, because it is so unlike their own character.
Commentators read verses 11–16 as more than David's own story.
Verses 11-16 contrast the pure sympathy of Jesus with the deep-rooted selfishness and treachery of corrupted nature. He entered into human sorrow and distress with all the gracious reality of perfect love. He Himself took our sorrows and bore our griefs, in the sufficiency of divine endurance. The unspeakable baseness of the flesh shows itself remarkably here. It could not be won to the love of goodness even by the presence of Goodness itself... They fed eagerly on the good things that grew at the Lord's bidding to satisfy their bodily needs. Then they turned like swine to tear the gracious hand that gave out its blessings so freely for their sakes.
The psalm as a whole asks God to judge these men. But who is the sufferer speaking here?
Psalm 35 is an urgent appeal for the judgment of Jehovah. His persecutors are relentless and cunning, and they seek after the soul of the righteous. They used insult, craft and violence against him... In verses 13, 14, we see the grace in which the godly (Christ Himself) dealt with these enemies.
Stephen later faced the same gnashing teeth. He did not get power to strike back.
Stephen stood in front of his enemies. They gnashed at him with their teeth and stoned him with their stones. He looked up steadily into heaven to "Jesus standing at the right hand of God." But, though Jesus is Lord in the place of supreme power, He does not generally act in power to crush the enemies of His servants... He gave grace instead. Stephen was so strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus that he was able to take his share in suffering. As a good soldier of Jesus Christ, he did not threaten or insult his persecutors. Instead, he prayed for them and committed his spirit to the Lord.
- Grace first. The gnashing answers kindness, not injury. Fasting and friendship toward his attackers came before their sneering.
- Grace exposed. A godly life grates on their conscience. Even at a feast, religion and mockery sit at one table.
- Grace guarded. Their rage hits a fence God set around His beloved. The malice is real, and it is powerless.
- Grace embodied. Commentators hear Christ here — perfect love, and a nature that tore the hand feeding it.
- Grace given. Stephen met the same gnashing teeth. He received strength to suffer, not power to crush, and he prayed for the men stoning him.
Lord, how long wilt thou look on? Rescue my soul from their destructions, my only one from the young lions.
Why does God look on and not act? At this point in Psalm 35 the sufferer stops describing his enemies and hands the whole case to God — one urgent question, one urgent plea.
The question is not about God's attention. It is about His timing.
"Lord, how long will You look on?" (v. 17). David knows the Lord sees this persecution, but cannot understand why He takes so long to intervene. However, the Lord has "long patience," which people too often mistake for indifference. But when David asks the Lord to rescue him from the destructive power of his enemies, who are as vicious as lions, his pleading gives way to thanksgiving in verse 18 — and not only in private, but "in the great assembly" and "among many people."
The question carries a conviction inside it.
Having spread out his case before the Lord, the godly man asks, "Lord, how long will You look on?" He knows there must be a limit set to the persecution. Faith looks to the Lord to rescue the soul from the destructive violence of the wicked.
The sufferer brings God more than his pain. He brings a record, and he presses it as an argument.
This is his side of the case, the proof of his integrity. He spreads it out and puts it into the Lord's hand as supreme. He urges whether the Lord, who knows it all, can be content any longer only to look on. There was indeed a limit. Was it not ready now to be crossed? "Rescue my soul," he cries, "from their destructions! my only one from the lions!"
Some translations read the second half as "my darling from the lions." Both renderings translate one Hebrew word.
Christ is also spoken of as God's "only begotten Son." The word is monogenes, and it matches the Hebrew word yachid, which means "only one," and so "darling" (Psalm 22:20; Psalm 35:17). It is a term of endearment.
So the Hebrew word here matches the Greek word behind God's "only begotten" Son. The sufferer is not only asking to survive. He holds up the one life he has, dear and beyond replacing, and asks God to treat it that way.
One writer hears the same wording in Psalm 22, where it belongs to the Lord Himself. He calls the sufferers here "the remnant" — the faithful few.
And so the godly plead, "Rescue my soul from their destructions, my darling from the lions" (verse 17). This reminds us of the Twenty-second Psalm, where this expression applies to our Lord. The remnant suffers with Him.
Writers on this psalm see more than a shared vocabulary between the sufferer and the Lord. They see the Lord Himself present in the prayer.
In Psalm 35 we have Christ again in spirit entering into the sorrow of the remnant, and claiming judgment on the enemy. Yet He credits the remnant, as it were, with standing alongside Him and His cause, as the righteous one in spirit.
Commentators differ here. Some read the psalm as David's own experience. Others hear Christ Himself in the words, pleading for His people.
The question of verse 17 does not hang forever. One writer follows the answer past the psalm to Christ Himself.
The prayer of Jesus (verses 17 onward) has been heard, and in part has been fulfilled. Having been put to death in the flesh, He has been made alive and justified in the Spirit. The heavens have received Him whom the world cast out.
- Seeing. God is watching the whole time. The question is never whether He sees, but why He waits. His long patience is not indifference, though it can look like it.
- Limit. Faith prays this way because it believes the persecution has a boundary already set. "How long?" asks God to bring that boundary near, not to invent one.
- Precious. He hands God "my only one" — a Hebrew word of endearment, close to "darling." You may ask God to treat your life as dear to Him.
- Shared. The same cry stands in Psalm 22 on the lips of the Lord Himself. The sufferer is not praying alone; Christ enters into the sorrow and pleads with him.
- Praise. The plea turns to thanksgiving in the very next verse — not in private, but in the great assembly. Rescue aims at public praise.
I will give thee thanks in the great congregation; I will praise thee among much people.
A cry for rescue turns, mid-breath, into a promise of public thanks — the sufferer is still surrounded by lions when he pledges to praise. It raises three questions. Who is speaking? When are the thanks paid? And who is the great congregation?
Verse 17 asks how long the Lord will look on. Nothing in the situation has changed, yet the psalm turns from that question to thanksgiving — and the thanks are public.
"Lord, how long will You look on?" (v. 17). David knows the Lord sees this persecution, but cannot understand why He takes so long to intervene. However, the Lord has "long patience," which people too often mistake for indifference. David asks the Lord to rescue him from the destructive power of his enemies, who are as vicious as lions. At that point his pleading gives way to thanksgiving in verse 18. This is not only in private, but "in the great assembly" and "among many people." The triumph of the Lord, when it comes, will be so widespread that it affects great numbers.
Safety is not the whole point of this prayer. He asks for rescue so that a whole assembly will praise God.
Psalm 35 is an urgent appeal for Jehovah to judge persecutors who never let up and who work by stealth, hunting the soul of the righteous man. They used insult, cunning and violence against him. They pretended they had found him out. He asks for deliverance so that Jehovah may be praised in the great congregation — that is, the full assembly of restored Israel. Though this is generally true of the godly, Christ Himself is specially in view here in spirit.
Who sings this praise, and when? One writer ties it to God's Servant, and to everyone who stands with Him.
Final victory is in view, and it is the sure result of Jehovah rising up to judge in His Servant's cause. The one who waits and asks for righteousness will praise Him, once the Lord has made good His true claim (verse 18). In the meantime, the strong and tender sympathies of the Man God approved — the Man men despised and rejected — are with those who share His shame by confessing His righteousness (verse 27). The believer is called to share Christ's sufferings as well as His glory, and so finds a rich portion of blessing in words like these.
"Great congregation" means restored Israel. The second phrase is harder. Older translations read it "among much people," with "mighty people" in the margin. Commentators differ. One takes it of the nations outside Israel:
(vv. 17-18) Having spread out his cause before the Lord, the godly man asks, "Lord, how long will You look on?" He knows there must be a limit set to the persecution. Faith looks to the Lord to rescue the soul from the destructive violence of the wicked. Then the godly will praise the Lord in "the great congregation" — restored Israel; and "among much people" — the Gentile nations.
Another applies both phrases to the same restored nation, once God has judged its long refusal of Christ:
The prayer of Jesus (verses 17 and following) has been heard, and in part has been fulfilled. The heavens have received Him whom the world cast out, and already gladness fills the hearts of those who believe and confess His name... Meanwhile, the nation that would have none of Him lies broken on the stone of stumbling. The outstretched arm of righteous judgment is against them still. Yet there is a portion of future blessing for them too, to be realized in due time through the once-despised righteousness of the rejected Man. The "much" or "mighty" (margin) people mentioned in verse 18 are, I have no doubt, the restored nation of Israel.
Psalm 22 also promises praise in a congregation. One writer marks the difference:
As noted before, this Psalm is a looking to God to take up the cause of the despised Messiah. It is set against an insulting and rebellious Israel that seeks His downfall in the details of daily life. It is not the cry to God about His forsaking Him. So the deliverance of His beloved one (ya-khid) brings thanks in the great congregation, before all Israel, since that is where the rescue happens. It stays inside the limits of Israel, where He was dishonoured. Here there is no declaring of a name to gather a remnant in a special way, as there is in Psalm 22.
- Cry. Verse 17 asks how long God will look on. Enemies "as vicious as lions" are still there when the promise is made.
- Confidence. Pleading gives way to thanksgiving before rescue arrives — faith names the praise it will pay.
- Purpose. He asks for rescue so that a whole assembly will praise God, in public and not in private.
- Reach. The praise sounds in the great congregation — restored Israel. Commentators differ on whether the "mighty throng" is that same nation or the nations beyond it.
- Share. The rejected Man feels for those who share His shame. The believer called to His sufferings has a share in His praise.
Let not them that are wrongfully mine enemies rejoice over me; let them not wink with the eye that hate me without cause.
David tells God that his enemies hate him for nothing. He asks God not to let them enjoy their triumph over him. Two questions follow. What is hatred with no cause at all? And why did Jesus later take these words as His own?
One writer links this psalm to a time when David was close to taking revenge himself. He left the matter with God instead.
David is in danger of giving free rein to his indignation and of "avenging himself with his own hand" (vv. 26, 34). This, it seems to me, is where we find the experience of Psalm 35: "They repay me evil for good" (v. 12; cf. 1 Sam. 25:21)... "Those who are wrongfully my enemies" (v. 19; cf. 1 Sam. 25:26). But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. He does not defend his rights himself. He commits his cause to the Lord: "Stir up Yourself, and awake for my right, for my cause, my God and Lord" (v. 23).
The order matters. The appeal for judgment comes at the end of a long stretch of patience, not at the first injury.
This came after patience and tireless grace. That grace was of no use. There was no avenging themselves; they cast themselves on the Lord. Only at the end do they look to the Lord for deliverance.
One writer walks through David's two requests in this verse.
David returns to his pleading. He asks God not to allow his enemies to rejoice over him, or to wink the eye in hatred toward him. He is certain that he has given them no cause for this (v. 19).
If hatred has no cause in the one hated, it must come from somewhere else.
First, once more, here is the hatred of the righteous that has no cause. Because it has no cause in them, its real cause lies in their righteousness itself. So the judgment must come for the sake of righteousness. Evil must not be allowed to rejoice over it.
God foretold this hatred in the Scriptures the Jews themselves owned. They then carried it out without seeing what they were doing.
He had foretold this in "their law," where the Messiah says, "They hated Me without a cause" (Ps. 35:19). So the Jews fulfilled their own scriptures without knowing it, by their hatred and rejection of Christ. Nothing can thwart the fulfillment of the word of God.
Christ's love was given freely, for nothing. The hatred that answered it was just as free.
The love was free, and here was the desperate evil. "They hated me" — the state foretold — for nothing, freely, "without a cause." What a word! It is sad, terrible and puzzling for man, and it humbles us about man's evil nature and corruption. They hated the blessed perfectness of Jesus, freely and without any cause.
There was plenty of cause for hatred. None of it lay in Him.
Truly He could say, "They hated me without a cause." Alas! plenty of cause of hatred, but no cause in Him. No cause in man to call out Christ's love, and no cause in Christ to call out man's hatred. But why should the evil heart of man hate the One whose whole life was spent in showing love to man? Joseph's history gives the answer. Why did his brothers hate him? He served them, but they were evil, and his presence exposed their evil and called out their hatred. For a similar reason, and far more deeply, the world hated Christ. He could say, "It hates me because I testify about it that its works are evil" (John 7:7).
The same word turns up in a very different setting. It describes how God justifies sinners.
"Being justified FREELY by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 3:23) means this, for the word "freely" might be translated "without a cause"; indeed, it is so translated in John 15:25. There was no more cause in us why God should justify us than there was in Jesus why men should hate Him. God has found the cause in Himself; it is entirely of His grace.
The ESV translates that verse "justified by his grace as a gift" (Romans 3:24). The older wording "freely" is the one this point turns on.
- No cause given. David is sure of one thing. He gave his enemies no reason to hate him or to gloat over him.
- No cause but righteousness. Hatred without a cause still has a source. A righteous life exposes evil, and evil hates it.
- No cause in Christ. Jesus took this line as His own. There was plenty of cause of hatred in man, but none whatever in Him.
- No cause in us. One word covers both. God justifies sinners freely, and He found the reason to bless in Himself, not in us.
- No cause to give. David did not defend himself. After long patience, he handed his case to God.
For they speak not peace; and they devise deceitful words against the quiet in the land.
These enemies never speak peace. Their targets have picked no fight — they are "quiet in the land." Two questions follow: why does a peaceable life attract hatred, and what should the person under attack do?
The verse pairs two things: what these men say and what they invent. One writer reads it with the verses on either side.
The unrighteousness of the enemy is clear in that they hate the godly without cause (v. 19). They stir up strife against those who are for peace — the "quiet in the land" (v. 20). They bear false witness, loudly claiming to have seen some evil in the godly (v. 21).
The deceit is not blunt slander but something crafted. Another writer notes that evil cannot stay still:
There is no peace even in their words. In subtle deceit they plot evil schemes against those quiet in the land, those who do not even stir the waves (v. 20). But evil cannot rest where good is being done.
If the quiet give no provocation, the provocation must lie in the quietness itself. One writer explains the offence that way, then names the remedy:
Next comes the sin against peace. It is the spirit of conflict and war that has long taken possession of the earth and cursed it. To those with such a spirit, the quiet in the land would be themselves the cause of opposition. But the Prince of peace comes, who is to restore peace.
"Without cause" in verse 19 does not mean the hatred is random. The same writer turns the phrase around and shows why judgment must come:
Again we meet the causeless hatred of the righteous. Being causeless, its real cause is their righteousness itself. For the sake of righteousness, then, judgment must come: evil must not be allowed to rejoice over it.
One writer sees the same treatment falling on Jesus. He lists what His enemies did:
They sought His life. They desired His harm. They spread secret traps for His feet. They brought lying accusations against Him. They repaid Him evil for good... Yet He spoke no rebukes... "I have shown you many good works from the Father; for which of them are you going to stone me?" (John 10:32). But they hated Him without a cause.
The psalm asks God to act, not the sufferer. One writer notes where in the sequence that appeal comes:
This psalm shows us the spirit in which judgment is asked for. It came after patience and untiring grace. When that grace was of no use, there was no self-avenging, only casting themselves on the Lord. At the end the Lord is looked to for deliverance... The poor will not always be forgotten. It is not right that heartless, unjust, and cruel evil should always have the upper hand unchecked. It is right that the saints should be patient — to bear everything until the Lord Himself steps in.
To be "quiet in the land" is to go unnoticed. One writer says that obscurity is only temporary:
Through the ages a vast host of saints have lived their lives in obscurity under the eye of God as the quiet in the land. History has no record of them. At last they will be displayed in glory...
- Quiet. The people attacked "do not even stir the waves." They have started nothing. That is the point of the verse.
- Targeted. Their peace is the very thing that provokes the spirit of conflict. Hatred "without cause" finds its cause in their righteousness.
- Slandered. The weapon is not open war but crafted deceit, backed by loud claims to have seen evil that was never there.
- Shared. Jesus stood in the same place: lying accusations, evil for good, hatred without a cause. The quiet suffer nothing He has not met first.
- Vindicated. The answer is patience, not revenge. Leave the case with God. He will not forget the poor, and one day the lives history never recorded will be displayed in glory.
And they opened their mouth wide against me; they said, Aha! aha! our eye hath seen [it].
Psalm 35 is a prayer for God to take up the cause of a man hunted by enemies who hate him for no reason. Here their hatred becomes a public shout, and they claim their own eyes have seen his guilt.
The word translated "Aha" is a cry, not an argument. Scripture uses the same cry in more than one mood.
"An exclamation of joy, of terror, or of mockery." (Fürst.) Psalm 35:25; Psalm 40:15; Isaiah 44:16; Jeremiah 22:18; Ezekiel 25:3, etc.
The enemies are loud, and what they shout is a claim to have seen something. One writer sets that shout beside the rest of their behaviour here.
The enemy shows his unrighteousness by hating the godly without cause (v. 19). They stir up strife against those who are for peace — the "quiet in the land" (v. 20). They bear false witness, loudly professing to have seen some evil in the godly (v. 21).
The boast has a method behind it. One writer describes how such accusers work.
Such men look for anything suspicious and add their own imagination to it. These are contemptible methods, and they use them to accuse the innocent.
One writer reads this psalm as the silent thoughts of Jesus while He stood on trial. He traces its lines, phrase by phrase, into the Gospel records.
This Psalm may be read as a silent musing of the afflicted soul of Jesus as He stood before Pilate. He pleads with God both for His own rescue and for the judgment and confusion of His persecutors. We hear the "false witnesses" of verse 11 in Matthew 26:59. We see the worthless crowd of verse 15 in Luke 23:1. His attitude in Luke 22:64 proves the Lord's words, "I knew not," in verse 15. We see His "quietness in the land," of verse 20, in Matthew 12:19 and Matthew 22:21. This shows that the charge against Him in Luke 23:2 was the "deceitful matter" this blessed sufferer and witness speaks of in verse 20.
A wide-open mouth is aimed at someone. God asks the mockers who that someone is, and one writer finds the answer in this psalm.
Jehovah puts two searching questions to such people: "Whom are you mocking? Against whom do you open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue?" We hear the Lord's own answer in Psalm 35: "In my adversity they rejoiced … with hypocritical mockers … they gnashed at me with their teeth" … "they opened their mouth wide against me." They reject Christ and His word, so they believe a lie. Instead of forming part of His seed (Isaiah 53:10), they become "a seed of falsehood."
The psalm does ask God to judge. One writer notes what comes before that prayer.
They look to the Lord for deliverance only at the end. It comes after patience and tireless grace, and after that grace has done no good. They never avenge themselves; they cast themselves on the Lord… It is right that the saints should be patient and bear everything until the Lord Himself steps in. Such is the spirit of this Psalm, and then it rejoices in the Lord's salvation.
The accusers claimed their eyes had seen. One writer shows how God answered such claims against His Son, and what that means for believers now.
The Lord Jesus received no vindication all the time He was on earth. But God has vindicated Him by raising Him from among the dead. Israel will know that vindication when He returns in power and glory. Today it is far wiser for believers not to plead for vindication in front of their enemies. Better to wait quietly on God, who will vindicate every believer in the end.
- The shout — "Aha" is an exclamation, not evidence; Scripture uses it for joy, terror and mockery alike.
- The claim — they shout that they have seen evil in a godly man. Commentators call this false witness, not evidence.
- The method — they seize on anything suspicious, add their own imagination, and accuse an innocent man.
- The Sufferer — one writer reads the psalm as the silent thoughts of Jesus on trial, where the false witnesses and the twisted charge appear.
- The answer — Jesus never defended Himself. God vindicated Him by raising Him from the dead, and He will vindicate His own in His time.
Thou hast seen [it], Jehovah keep not silence; O Lord, be not far from me.
God has seen it all — the false witnesses, the wide-open mouths, the mockery. Here the sufferer stops describing his enemies and turns to the One who watched it happen. He asks Him for two things: to break His silence, and to come near.
Up to now the psalm has listed what men said and did. Here the sufferer turns from them to God.
Now comes the appeal to Him who knows the reality of things — whose presence makes everything at once take its true form.
The enemies had just boasted about what their own eyes had seen. David answers that boast with what the Lord has seen.
They open wide their mouths against me; they say, "Aha, Aha! Our eyes have seen it!" (v. 21). Such men look for anything suspicious and add their own imagination to it. They use contemptible methods to accuse the innocent. Of course, David knows the Lord has discerned all this (v. 22), and wants God to speak out and not stay far from His servant. He felt God should vindicate him quickly.
The plea rests on what God is like.
The Lord, however, has seen the wickedness of these enemies, and cannot be indifferent to evil. So the soul pleads that the Lord would step in and judge the cause of the godly according to His righteousness. It asks Him not to let the wicked win over one whose cause is righteous (vv. 22-26).
Commentators also read the psalm as the words of Jesus under false accusation. One writer pictures Him standing before Pilate.
We may read this psalm as the silent musing of the afflicted soul of Jesus as He stood before Pilate. He pleads with God both for His own rescue and for the judgment and confusion of His persecutors. The "false witnesses" of verse 11 appear in Matthew 26:59; the "wretches" of verse 15 appear in Luke 23:1... And Scripture tells us that the Lord committed Himself to the righteous Judge (1 Peter 2:23), without insults or threats. This psalm appears to be a sample of such communion.
Another writer points to the place the sufferer keeps all through the psalm.
This is the solemn appeal of the rejected and dishonoured Messiah. He appeals from the unrighteous judgment of men to the just verdict of Him who sanctified Him and sent Him into the world (John 10:38). The place the sufferer keeps throughout the psalm is that of Jehovah's Servant.
The plea did not fail. Part of its answer has already come.
God has heard the prayer of Jesus (verses 17 onward), and part of it has already come true. He was put to death in the flesh, and made alive and justified in the Spirit. The heavens have received Him whom the world cast out, and already gladness fills the hearts of those who believe and confess His name.
This cry is not impatience. It comes only at the end of a long road of patience.
This psalm shows us the spirit in which judgment is asked for. It came after patience and tireless grace. That grace had achieved nothing. There was no taking revenge; they cast themselves on the Lord instead. Only then, at the end, do they look to the Lord for deliverance... And it was only when he was about to be swallowed up that he looks to the Lord Himself to step in, and so He will. The poor will not always be forgotten. It is not right that heartless, unjust, cruel evil should always have the upper hand unchecked.
The same writer traces this cry from Christ to believers today.
The Lord Jesus received no vindication during all His time on earth. But God has vindicated Him by raising Him from among the dead. Israel will know that vindication when He returns in power and glory. Today it is far wiser for believers not to plead for vindication in front of their enemies. It is better to wait quietly on God. In the end He will vindicate every believer.
- Seen — The enemies boast about what their eyes have seen. God's eyes have seen everything, and His presence makes every claim take its true form.
- Not indifferent — Because He has seen, He cannot be indifferent to evil. The plea rests on His righteousness.
- Silent — The cry for God to break His silence is the cry of a Servant. He hands His case from a human court to a righteous Judge.
- Patient — The appeal comes only after tireless grace has failed. It is never revenge; it is the cry of a man about to be swallowed up.
- Vindicated — Christ received no vindication on earth, but God raised Him. So believers wait quietly instead of pleading their case before their enemies.
Stir up thyself, and awake for my right, for my cause, my God and Lord!
Just before this verse the psalmist says God has seen it all. Now he asks God to break the silence and take up the case as His own. Why does God look on so long without acting? And what does it mean to hand a wrong to Him instead of settling it yourself?
The verse ends by naming God twice. A word-for-word rendering keeps the Hebrew names behind "my God and my Lord", and calls the thing he asks for a judgment:
Stir up Yourself, and awake to my judgment, my Elohim and Adonay to my cause.
The prayer turns to the one Presence where nothing can keep a false shape.
Now comes the appeal to Him who knows the reality of things. His Presence makes all things at once come to their true form. "Keep not silence: be not far from me! Stir up Yourself and awake for my right: for my cause, my God and my Lord!"
The request assumes God has been watching all along. What is asked for is not information but action, and the ground of the request is God's own character.
The Lord, however, has seen the wickedness of these enemies, and cannot be indifferent to evil. So the soul pleads that the Lord would step in. He asks Him to judge the cause of the godly according to His righteousness, and not to let the wicked triumph over one whose cause is righteous.
Earlier in the psalm the same writer hears the question "how long?" and the confidence under it:
Having spread out his cause before the Lord, the godly man asks, "Lord, how long will you look on?" He knows the persecution must have a limit.
One writer reads the psalm alongside a time when David was tempted to settle a wrong himself. Verse 23 is where he changes course.
David is in danger of giving free vent to his indignation and of "avenging himself with his own hand". This is where, it seems to me, the experience of Psalm 35 is found: "They reward me evil for good" (v. 12; compare 1 Sam. 25:21)… But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. Instead of defending his rights himself he commits his cause to the Lord: "Stir up Yourself, and awake for my right, for my cause, my God and Lord" (v. 23).
The verse is a hinge. Everything after it is the case being argued out, and it ends far beyond the psalmist's own relief.
The appeal for judgment runs through all the rest of the psalm… The appeal here is, first of all, on behalf of righteousness. Then it asks for deliverance from those who were just ready to rejoice, as if they had swallowed up the one they hated. Then it asks that shame and dishonour fall where they belong, that is, on the enemies of righteousness.
Darby hears Christ Himself in this psalm, pleading for a judgment that would rescue others:
Here we have a full and true sense of the power and wickedness of evil, and he looks for judgment against the oppressive wicked. Here Christ enters into it all, in sympathy with the remnant… Christ pleads in Spirit for judgment, and that judgment will be the deliverance of the remnant. One of them would easily see that Another than himself pleaded, and that his own deliverance was the result when that prayer was heard.
Writers are careful about lifting these words straight onto Christian lips.
The language of this psalm is by no means what Christians today are expected to use. We are privileged to live in the day of grace. In that day we may rightly prefer the words of the Lord Jesus, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). Or the words of Stephen as he died for his faith, "Lord, do not charge them with this sin" (Acts 7:60).
The same writer looks at how God vindicated His own Son, and what that means for us:
He felt that God should quickly vindicate him. The Lord Jesus received no vindication all the time He was on earth. But God has vindicated Him by raising Him from among the dead… Today it is far wiser for believers not to plead for vindication in front of their enemies. It is better to wait quietly on God, who will vindicate every believer in the end.
- Cry. The plea does not inform God; it asks Him to act. He has already seen, and He cannot be indifferent to evil.
- Cause. Calling it "my cause" is the act of handing it over — David stops avenging himself and lets the Lord take the case.
- Christ. Darby hears Christ pleading in this psalm. The sufferer's rescue comes through Another's prayer.
- Consequence. The verse opens an appeal that runs to the psalm's end. It asks first for righteousness, then deliverance, then shame where it belongs.
- Conduct. Writers warn that these words are not the Christian's normal language. God vindicated Christ by raising Him, so we can wait on God rather than demand a verdict now.
Judge me, Jehovah my God, according to thy righteousness, and let them not rejoice over me.
The psalm has been full of enemies who mock and judge wrongly. Here the psalmist stops arguing with them and hands the case to God. He asks for a verdict set by God's own righteousness. That raises a hard question: may a believer pray like this today?
From here to the end of the psalm, the plea is one long call for a verdict. One writer sets out its order, and names what the enemies were about to do.
The appeal for judgment extends through all the rest of the psalm, and gives this last section its character... The appeal here is, first of all, on behalf of righteousness. Then it asks for deliverance from those who were just ready to rejoice, as though they had swallowed up the object of their hatred. Then it asks for shame and dishonour to fall where they belong, that is, on the enemies of righteousness.
The line can be rendered two ways. The ESV has "according to your righteousness"; another rendering makes it the speaker's own. One writer prefers that second reading, and says who is meant to pray it.
Verse 24 is more rightly translated, "Judge me according to my righteousness, Jehovah my God" (Numerical Bible). Of course, it is not a prayer suitable for us today. But the godly in Israel will pray this way when they are oppressed in the Tribulation period. We know that the judgment of God is always according to truth. So we may wait patiently for God to bring everything to light.
The psalm has a deeper voice too. One writer hears Christ in it. He turns from the judgment of men to God, and He keeps one place from start to finish — that of God's Servant.
This is a solemn appeal from the rejected and dishonoured Messiah. He turns from the unrighteous judgment of men to the just verdict of Him who sanctified Him and sent Him into the world (John 10:38). All through the psalm the sufferer keeps the place of Jehovah's Servant. Under that title the Spirit of Jesus calls for the righteous judgment of God on those who had outraged and mocked His name. They had rejected His Chosen One, in whom His soul delighted.
The prayer can sound like a cry for revenge. One writer answers that, and marks where the Christian now stands.
The Christian should understand this. The Spirit of Christ in His own walk in the world was quite different from the desire for judgment expressed in the psalms, and the Christian's spirit ought to be different too. Yet that desire is righteous and right in its place. That desire for judgment is not self-vengeance. It is an appeal to a delivering and righteous God, made after the heart has been fully patient under unrighteous oppression, bowing to the will of God and learning the lesson He had to teach.
David faced this choice in his own life. He came close to paying his enemies back himself.
David is in danger of giving free rein to his indignation and of "avenging himself with his own hand"... But David had learned the lesson God wanted to teach him. Instead of defending his rights himself he commits his cause to the Lord: "Stir up yourself, and awake for my right, for my cause, my God and Lord."
Note: that line is the verse before ours. The ESV puts it, "Awake and rouse yourself for my vindication, for my cause, my God and my Lord!"
So what should a believer do now? One writer points to Christ, who was cleared only after His death.
The Lord Jesus received no vindication all the time He was on earth. But God has vindicated Him by raising Him from among the dead... Today it is far wiser for believers not to plead for vindication in front of their enemies. It is better to wait quietly on God, who will vindicate every believer in the end.
- Handed over. The psalmist stops arguing with men and lays the case before God — righteousness first, rescue next, shame last.
- Measured. He asks for a verdict by a fixed standard, not by feeling. God judges according to truth.
- Not revenge. Asking God to judge is not avenging yourself; it is an appeal made after patience, by a heart bowing to God's will.
- Learned. David faced the same choice and committed his cause to the Lord instead of using his own hand.
- Waited for. Christ received no verdict on earth; God raised Him. Believers can wait for the same God to clear them.
Let them not say in their heart, Aha! so would we have it. Let them not say, We have swallowed him up.
Psalm 35 is the prayer of a hunted man whose enemies twist every fact against him. Verse 25 names the thing he cannot bear: their gloating. He asks God to stop their boast before they can even think it.
The cry translated "Aha!" is a single sound that can mean very different things depending on who says it. One reference work gathers its uses across Scripture:
"An exclamation of joy, of terror, or of mockery." (Fürst.) Psalm 35:25; Psalm 40:15; Isaiah 44:16; Jeremiah 22:18; Ezekiel 25:3, etc.
What follows the "Aha" is stranger still in Hebrew. The phrase rendered "our heart's desire" is literally "our soul." One writer uses this verse to show how the Bible ties the soul to what a person wants. He quotes an older English version, which reads "Aha, so would we have it":
Scripture says the same thing in various ways. It identifies the will, in man's present natural state, with the soul, or links the two... "Let her go wherever she will" is (in Deuteronomy 21:14) "let her go to her soul." "Aha, so would we have it" (Psalm 35:25) is "aha, our soul!" And the phrase "binding the soul with a bond" — that is, with a vow — appears ten times in Numbers 30. This shows how closely will and soul are tied together.
So the boast is not just "we won." It is "we got what we wanted."
The verse does not ask God to stop their mouths only. It asks Him to stop what they say inside. One writer asks what those hidden words really change — and where the psalmist's confidence should rest:
The psalmist was concerned about what his enemies might say (v. 25), and even "in their hearts." What if it was true that they said these things? Did that make any difference in the end? But he could have had fuller confidence that God would answer his prayer in verse 26. That verse is a prophecy that God will step in for the godly.
The prayer rests on something bigger than the psalmist's safety. The hatred against him has no cause except his righteousness — and that is why God cannot let it stand:
First, once more, comes the hatred of the righteous that has no cause. Because it has no cause, its real cause lies in their righteousness itself. So judgment must come for righteousness' sake: evil must not be allowed to rejoice over it.
The same writer sets out what the psalm asks for, in order. The enemies are ready to celebrate:
The appeal here is, first of all, on behalf of righteousness. Then it asks for deliverance from those who were just ready to rejoice, as having swallowed up the one they hated. Then it asks for shame and dishonor to fall where they belong, that is, on the foes of righteousness.
A prayer for enemies to be shamed can sound harsh. One writer points to when the prayer comes: only after long patience, and only when the sufferer is about to be swallowed up:
Still this psalm shows us the spirit in which they ask for judgment. It came after patience and tireless grace. That grace did no good. They took no revenge of their own, but cast themselves on the Lord. Only at the end do they look to the Lord for deliverance... Only when he would be swallowed up does he look to the Lord Himself to step in — and He will. The poor will not always be forgotten, nor is it right that heartless, unjust, and cruel evil should always have the upper hand unhindered.
One writer traces the psalm's details straight into the trial of Jesus:
We may read this Psalm as the silent thoughts of the afflicted soul of Jesus as He stood before Pilate. He pleads with God both for His own rescue and for the judgment and confusion of His persecutors. The "false witnesses" of verse 11 appear in Matthew 26:59... His "quietness in the land," of verse 20, appears in Matthew 12:19 and Matthew 22:21.
- Desire — "Aha, our heart's desire" is literally "Aha, our soul!" The enemy's gloating exposes what he has wanted all along.
- Heart — The prayer reaches past the enemy's mouth to what he says inside. One writer asks what those hidden words change.
- Cause — The hatred has no reason except his righteousness. So judgment must come for righteousness' sake.
- Timing — The appeal comes last: after patience, after grace, after no revenge — only when he would be swallowed up.
- Sufferer — Writers read the psalm as the silent thoughts of Jesus before Pilate, surrounded by false witnesses.
Let them be ashamed and brought to confusion together that rejoice at mine adversity; let them be clothed with shame and dishonour that magnify themselves against me.
Psalm 35 is a long plea for God to step in, and it closes by asking that the shame aimed at the sufferer fall back on the enemies who gloated. Two hard questions follow: whose voice is praying this, and what should a reader today do with a prayer against enemies?
Commentators hear more than David here. All through the psalm the sufferer holds one place before God, and the prayer for judgment comes out of it.
This is a solemn appeal of the rejected and dishonoured Messiah. He turns from the unjust judgment of men to the just verdict of Him who sanctified Him and sent Him into the world (John 10:38). All through the Psalm the sufferer keeps the place of Jehovah's Servant. It is under this title that the Spirit of Jesus calls for the righteous judgment of God on those who had insulted and mocked His name by rejecting His Chosen One, in whom His soul delighted.
Another writer hears that same voice pleading for a suffering people, the faithful few left among the Jews.
This Psalm is the appeal of Messiah, on behalf of the oppressed remnant of the Jews, in His own Person. It is not merely the cry of the remnant about the ungodliness that surrounded them among the Jews, nor only a cry for help against the Gentiles. It is the decisive intervention of Messiah, and it concerns the whole purpose of God for them.
The closing appeal of the psalm moves in steps, and this verse is one of them.
The appeal here is, first of all, on behalf of righteousness. Then it asks for deliverance from those who were just ready to rejoice, as if they had swallowed up the object of their hatred. Then it asks that shame and dishonour fall where they belong, that is, on the foes of righteousness.
The psalm has already named the sin behind the judgment, and it is an uncomfortable one.
First, once more, there is the hatred of the righteous that has no cause. Having no cause, its real cause is their righteousness itself. For righteousness, then, the judgment must come: evil must not be left to rejoice over it.
One writer marks when such a prayer is right: after patience, not instead of it.
The Christian should understand this. The Spirit of Christ in His own walk in the world was quite different from the desire for judgment expressed in the psalms, and the Christian's spirit should be different too. Yet that desire is righteous and right in its place. This desire for judgment is not self-vengeance. It is an appeal to a delivering and righteous God, made after the heart has shown perfect patience under unjust oppression, bowing to the will of God and learning the lesson He had to teach.
One writer links this cry to the Lord's story of a widow who kept asking a judge for justice.
The thirty-fifth psalm gives us what the Lord speaks of in Luke's Gospel (Luke 18:1-8). It is the cry of God's elect, who have suffered at the hand of the persecutor since Abel's time. God will yet pour out judgment because of it. Often it is a cry with no voice. Sometimes, as in Stephen's case, it is exchanged for the prayer, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." At last it finds full expression on the lips of the Jewish remnant of the last days. The patience of God is then fast running out, and the prayer is in full harmony with the mind of God.
Read that way, the verse is more than a wish.
The psalmist might have had fuller confidence that God would indeed answer his prayer of verse 26, for this is a prophecy of God's intervention on behalf of the godly.
So how should a believer pray now?
The language of this psalm is by no means what Christians today are expected to use. We have the privilege of living in the day of grace. In that day we may rightly prefer the language of the Lord Jesus, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34), or that of Stephen when he was martyred, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" (Acts 7:60).
Another writer adds a warning and a better course.
To call down judgment on our enemies may also call down the chastening rod on ourselves. Far better to spread everything before the LORD, and leave the LORD to act according to His perfect wisdom.
- Cause — The hatred here has no reason except the righteousness it attacks. So righteousness itself calls for the judgment.
- Voice — The sufferer speaks as Jehovah's Servant. Commentators hear the rejected Messiah pleading for an oppressed people.
- Restraint — The prayer comes only after long patience under unjust oppression. It is an appeal to a righteous God, not self-vengeance.
- Reversal — The psalm asks that shame land where it belongs, on the enemies of righteousness. Commentators read the verse as a prophecy of God's intervention as much as a prayer.
- Today — Believers now prefer "Father, forgive them." They spread the wrong before God and leave Him to act in His wisdom.
Let them exult and rejoice that delight in my righteousness; and let them say continually, Jehovah be magnified, who delighteth in the prosperity of his servant.
Most of this psalm cries out against enemies who hate without cause. At verse 27 the voice turns to friends instead — the people who want the sufferer's cause to win. Two questions follow. Who is the servant God delights in? And who are the people who take his side and end up shouting for joy?
The one who suffers here keeps the same standing before God all through the psalm.
This is a solemn appeal by the rejected and dishonoured Messiah. He appeals away from the unjust verdict of men to the just verdict of the One who set Him apart and sent Him into the world (John 10:38). All through the psalm the sufferer keeps the place of Jehovah's Servant. It is under this title that the Spirit of Jesus calls for the righteous judgment of God on those who had insulted and mocked His name, when they rejected His Chosen One, in whom His soul delighted.
The sufferer does not pray for Himself alone. He prays for the remnant — the faithful few left in Israel — and treats their cause as one with His.
In Psalm 35 we again have Christ in spirit entering into the sorrow of the remnant, and calling for judgment on the enemy. But He gives the remnant credit, as it were, for being one with Him and His cause, as the righteous one in spirit. And He prays that those who favour His righteous cause may shout for joy.
Older translations read this phrase as "my righteous cause." One writer takes that cause as Christ's own, and begins with heaven.
All heaven is agreed to favour the "righteous cause" (Ps. 35:27) of the Lord Jesus. He is the "Lion of the tribe of Judah" (the royal tribe), as well as the "Root of David." All things are His by personal right and title. But He receives them from His Father because of His work, so that we who have no title may be Christ's fellow-heirs.
On earth that same cause has cost people their lives:
In Revelation 5 we see heaven's interest in the "righteous cause" of the Lamb. In Revelation 6 we find people on earth who learn it from the written word, and who are put to death for "favouring" it.
Commentators read the verse as prophecy, not description.
But the psalmist could have had fuller confidence that God would answer his prayer in verse 26, because that prayer is itself a prophecy of God stepping in for the godly. Verse 27, in turn, is a prophecy of the great blessing of the godly. Then restored Israel will speak gladly of God's righteousness and His praise "all the day long." That means the whole day of millennial glory, the thousand years of peace (v. 28).
Writers differ over who is shouting. One reading hears Israel calling the nations to share its joy. The psalm ends with the plea "that the nations should be made to rejoice in delivered Israel's joy, as we know they will do" (Numerical Bible Notes).
The verse magnifies the Lord for something He enjoys: His servant's welfare. How God gives matters as much as what He gives.
It should always be a joy to our hearts to notice the clear delight that God has in blessing His people. If He did it coldly, sparingly, or grudgingly, the blessing would lose what gives it its highest shine and its brightest charm. But He who "loves a cheerful giver" has set us an example of His own style of blessing, in no way unworthy of Himself.
Before that shout comes, the verse has something for anyone who stands with a rejected Christ today:
The strong and tender sympathy of the Man God approved, yet men despised and rejected, is with those who share His disgrace by confessing His righteousness (verse 27). The believer is called to share the sufferings of Christ as well as His glory, and finds a rich portion of blessing in such words.
- Servant — All through the psalm the sufferer stands as Jehovah's Servant. He appeals from the unjust verdict of men to the just verdict of God.
- Identified — He does not pray alone. He counts the faithful as one with Him, and asks joy for all who favour His righteous cause.
- Costly — Heaven already agrees with that cause. On earth, favouring it has cost people their lives.
- Promised — The shout is prophecy, not report. God steps in, and the praise runs "all the day long" — a whole age of peace.
- Pleasure — The praise rests on God's own delight in His servant's welfare. He blesses gladly, never coldly or grudgingly.
And my tongue shall talk of thy righteousness, [and] of thy praise, all the day.
Psalm 35 is a long cry for God to step in against wicked enemies, but it does not end with them. It ends with a tongue set free, and with one subject to speak about all day: God's righteousness.
One writer traces the closing appeal step by step: first righteousness, then rescue, then shame falling where it belongs.
The appeal here is, first of all, on behalf of righteousness. Then it asks for deliverance from enemies who were just ready to rejoice, as if they had swallowed up the one they hated. Then it asks that shame and dishonour fall where they belong, that is, on the enemies of righteousness. And then, as it seems to me, Israel is clearly the speaker, and the plea is that the nations be made to rejoice in delivered Israel's joy, as we know they will do. Israel themselves, the people of God once more, and with no temporary return to God as so often before, will talk of His righteousness and of His praise all the day long.
God's answer does two things at once. It lifts up the Lord, and it puts the sufferer back on his feet with something to say.
The Lord's intervention would result in the exaltation of the Lord and the prosperity of His servant. That servant would become a witness to the righteousness of the Lord, and a leader in His praise (vv. 27-28).
The earlier verses press two grounds for that answer. The second ground is the very thing the tongue takes up here.
In the verses that follow the psalmist pleads for the Lord's intervention on two grounds. First, because of the unrighteousness of the wicked. Second, to maintain righteousness — whether that is the righteousness of the Lord (v. 24), or the righteous cause of the godly (v. 27).
What is a tongue meant to tell of? One writer defines God's righteousness as God being true to Himself. That is why it shows up in such different forms.
The righteousness of God is His consistency with Himself. So it shows itself in mercy when mercy is promised, and in judgment on the wicked. It shows itself in rewarding integrity — not as merit, but as what pleased Him, and rightly. It is everything in which God makes good what He has revealed Himself to be… So all the ways God steps in for His people, in keeping with His revelation of Himself or His promises, are called righteousness.
Commentators read the phrase in more than one way. One takes it as a span of time — the whole day of peace still to come.
Then restored Israel will speak gladly of God's righteousness and His praise "all the day long." That will mean the whole day of glory to come, the thousand years of peace (v. 28).
The same writer comments on these words where they return later in the Psalms. His point there is plainer: singing may run out, but talk does not have to.
If the singing cannot continue all day, at least they may "talk of Your righteousness all the day long" (v. 24).
One commentator hears another voice in the psalm — the Man despised and rejected by men. Both the waiting and the praise belong to Him first, and to those who stand with Him.
Praise is to flow from the lips of the one who waits and asks for righteousness, when the Lord has vindicated His true claim (verse 18). Meanwhile, the strong and tender sympathy of the Man approved of God, but despised and rejected by men, is with those who share His reproach in confessing His righteousness (verse 27).
One writer turns the same promise on the reader. A full heart fills the mouth, and what the mouth says shows what the heart holds.
Out of the fullness of his heart his mouth will speak, and his theme will be, not himself, but the God of his salvation… He will not fear God's righteousness. He will make it the subject of his song. The man who at the beginning hoped only for His mercy will exult in His righteousness! … Shall we be less ready to speak than David was? Shall our lips be silent?
- Righteousness asked. The psalm's plea is for God to maintain righteousness — His own, and the righteous cause of the one wronged.
- Righteousness defined. It is God's consistency with Himself: every intervention that makes good what He has revealed Himself to be.
- Righteousness given. His answer exalts Him and restores His servant. The sufferer becomes a witness and a leader of praise.
- Righteousness spoken. The tongue takes it up as its subject — not the speaker, but the God of his salvation.
- Righteousness prolonged. Commentators take "all the day long" as the whole day of glory to come — and as talk that keeps going when song runs out.
(To the chief Musician. [A Psalm] of the servant of Jehovah; of David.) The transgression of the wicked uttereth within my heart, There is no fear of God before his eyes.
Psalm 36 opens with a verdict, not a prayer. Its title calls David the servant of the LORD. He looks at a man who sins freely and names the cause behind the behaviour. So where does wickedness start? Not in circumstances or weakness, but in what a person never looks at.
The first line can be read two ways. In the ESV, transgression speaks to the wicked deep in his own heart. Other translations read "within my heart," and writers take the line as an oracle: a message given to the psalmist, not a conclusion he reasoned out.
"An oracle within my heart" is evidently a God-given message that deeply affected the heart of the writer (v.1). It is "concerning the transgression of the wicked." This is not mere disgust, but genuine sorrow, as he realises that man's wickedness is the result of having "no fear of God before his eyes."
Another writer maps the picture these opening verses give, and names what hides God from view.
Four verses give us the complete description of the wicked: Godward, self-ward, in his words, and in his ways. His revolt — his lawlessness — is (literally) like a divine utterance, an oracle, within my heart: there is no fear of God before his eyes. And where God is hidden, we may be sure it is self that hides Him. So, with the poorest flattery possible, he flatters himself.
The word "fear" here is wider than being afraid. Where it is missing, God has no place in a person's thoughts, and His commands have no hold on how they live.
This is a very broad term. It covers feelings as different as the criminal's dread of his judge, a child's reverence for its parent, and a wife's respect for her husband. When Scripture states of Gentiles and Jews alike that "there is no fear of God before their eyes" (Rom. 3:18), it means that God has no place in their thoughts. They let His commandments put no restraint on their ways. This is a terrible condition, above all when we remember that God created man for Himself, to walk with Him and to do His will.
Losing the fear of God explains more than one person's sin. It explains where a whole age is heading.
As the fear of God departs from the heart of man, so his own self-will increases, which produces endless folly. In the present age man's knowledge and cleverness have risen to heights undreamed of a century ago. His destructive folly threatens to sink to depths just as undreamed of. Psalm 36:1, quoted in Romans 3:18, exposes the root of it all.
Paul quotes this line to close his case against the whole human race. So the verse is not about one unusual man. One writer suggests the psalmist owned the same source in his own heart.
The worshipper here owns that the cause of all this human wickedness, which he had been considering, lies in having cast off the fear of God. And perhaps he admits that the source — the heart itself — was in him as much as in any other man. (Rom. 7:17-18; Matt. 15:18-20) Indeed this Psalm helps the apostle with his God-given verdict against man: a completely corrupted creature. (See v. 1, Rom. 3:18)
For the servant of God, this is not theory but a specific hardship: an opponent who cannot be appealed to, because nothing inside him answers.
Thus the God-fearing man is faced with a conscienceless opponent, whose vanity will admit no wrong, who uses deceit in his effort to cover his evil, and who is in fact a malicious mischief-maker.
Commentators differ on who speaks here. One reads the title "the servant of the LORD" as pointing beyond David to Christ, and draws out why unrestrained enemies are so severe a test.
It is Christ our blessed Master in that character, facing the wickedness of ungodly men. He felt that there was no restraint upon them, because the fear of God was not before their eyes... So the security of God's people in such a case is not the restraining of their enemies' will. It is our dependence on the divine care while that will goes unrestrained. This is a most important principle. Verse 1 is the thesis of this.
The verse names a trial. The psalm answers it by pointing higher, to where mercy is.
But the consolation is very great and blessed. It throws the soul entirely on a faithful and all-gracious God, who is above all the schemes of man. So we can be perfectly peaceful. "Your mercy, O Jehovah, is in the heavens" (the ESV reads, "Your steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens"). What can malice do then? Its schemes cannot reach there... Mercy is out of the reach of the wicked's devices.
- Root. Sin has a source: where the fear of God goes, self-will grows and endless folly follows.
- Definition. No fear of God means God has no place in a person's thoughts and His commands no restraining power over their ways.
- Reach. Paul takes this line as his closing verdict on the whole human race, not on one unusual criminal.
- Trial. The servant's hardship is an enemy whose will nothing holds back — the trial Christ Himself met.
- Refuge. Safety is not a leash on the enemy, but mercy in the heavens, out of reach of every scheme of man.
For he flattereth himself in his own eyes, [even] when his iniquity is found to be hateful.
The psalm opens on a man who has shut God out. Verse 2 shows what fills the gap: a good opinion of himself.
Verse 1 says there is no fear of God before this man's eyes. Verse 2 says he flatters himself. The second follows from the first.
The average man of the world loves it, and loves it openly. Having no fear of God, he naturally flatters himself. If God shone forth upon him, like Job he would abhor himself.
The same point works in reverse. God does not simply vanish from a life — something hides Him.
Where God is hidden, we may be sure it is self that hides Him. And so, with the poorest flattery there could be, he flatters himself — only to find at last that the evil of his success, and the iniquity he has loved, are really hateful.
The verse does not say others flatter him. He does it himself, and the audience is his own eyes. One writer also sees this trait in a future tyrant.
Men dearly love a mutual admiration society. Flattery is the most common thing in the world, and excessive flattery from others has led many a man to his ruin. Notice that the man here flatters himself. He does not wait for others to do it for him, and he does it in his own eyes rather than in the eyes of other people. This, we say again, will no doubt have a special application to the Antichrist, since he will be a terrible tyrant. He will be out to magnify himself, so self-flattery will be a must for him.
One translation renders the line this way and notes the literal sense: "to the finding out his iniquity, to the hating it."
For he has flattered himself in his own eyes, until his iniquity is found out and hated.
Commentators read this clause differently. One reading makes it the end of the road: the man finds at last that the iniquity he loved is hateful. Another makes it the measure of his blindness.
What is more, his enemy is so blinded by his own vanity that he flatters himself that he is in the right. He does this even when his iniquity is fully exposed and found to be hateful.
Either way, the man knows his own record. He argues around it.
How completely blind a person is to flatter himself! He knows that he really is sinful, and much more sinful than many others are. Yet he ignores this. He looks for every possible way to justify himself while he despises others… When he finds he is guilty of iniquity and his hatred of others comes to the surface, he knows well how to cover it up instead of openly confessing his evil.
Flattery cannot reach God, but it easily creeps into our praise of people. The reason is that we only ever see part of a person.
Flattery is absolutely impossible when God is in question. All praise and worship offered to Him falls short of what He is worthy of. We cannot rate Him higher than He is. On the other hand it is almost impossible to avoid flattery when we begin to praise men. We see one or two features on the surface of their characters or their doings, and those appeal to us. But many other features lie deep below the surface, and we do not see them. They would not appeal but appal. So our praise of man always carries an element of flattery, even when we have not the slightest wish to flatter.
The description in verses 1–4 is not the psalm's destination. It is the trial that drives the writer somewhere better.
The trial is this. The ways of the wicked prove to the heart of the servant of God that conscience holds them back in nothing, that there is nothing to count on in them, and that the fear of God puts no check on their malice… But then the comfort is very great and blessed. It casts the soul wholly on a faithful and all-gracious God, who is above all the schemes of man, so that we can be fully at peace. "Your mercy, O Jehovah, is in the heavens." What can malice do then? Its schemes cannot reach there.
The psalm sets two men side by side.
The wicked man centres all his thoughts on himself. He sees only self, not God. But for those who know Him, the universe is filled with what they have learned of Him.
- No fear — the man has dismissed God, and self-flattery is what naturally moves into the empty space.
- Self hides God — where God is out of sight, self is the thing standing in the way.
- Own eyes — he does not wait for others to praise him; he supplies it himself, and believes it.
- Found and hated — commentators differ. Some say his sin is exposed at last. Others say even exposure leaves him insisting he is right. Either way, he covers up instead of confessing.
- Two horizons — the self-flatterer sees only himself. The one who knows God sees a universe full of what he has learned of Him, with mercy in the heavens that no malice can reach.
The words of his mouth are wickedness and deceit he hath left off to be wise, to do good.
Psalm 36 opens with a portrait of a man who has no fear of God. In this verse the corruption inside him reaches his mouth and his conduct.
Verses 1–4 move through the wicked man in order, and this verse covers the third stage: his speech. One commentator sets out the whole scheme.
Four verses give us the complete description of the wicked: toward God, toward self, in his words, and in his ways… His words, here as always, show what is in the heart. So they must be emptiness and deceit. He has left off the wisdom that no longer counts with him, and with it the well-doing that always goes with wisdom.
Another writer links this man with the figure called "that wicked," the "man of sin" — and still sees ordinary human nature at full stretch.
Verse 3 speaks of his words, and verse 4 of his way; and it is all deceit and mischief… Yet, after all, "that wicked," the "man of sin," is just man at the height of his powers in open defiance of God.
Lying is what a man reaches for when he will not admit what he is. One commentator traces the slide from small choices to a settled character.
Rather than facing his guilt, he adds to it by resorting to the contemptible wickedness of covering it by falsehood. At one time he may have been fairly wise, and he may even have done good. But he puts a complete end to wisdom and goodness. Most people do not begin by deciding to be evil. At first a man may be fairly decent in his ways. But he gives in to the evil desires of his own heart in one or two things. This soon leads to grosser evil, until he becomes a complete victim of his evil character.
Ceasing to act wisely is a decision, not an accident. One writer calls this religious falling away, and names where that road ends. He quotes an older translation; the ESV reads, "he has ceased to act wisely and do good."
Religious apostasy ("he has left off to be wise and to do good," verse 3) is an effect of the human will, as it works in known opposition to the will of God. The ripe result of this is atheism.
It would be easy to read these verses only as a description of somebody else. One commentator notes that the psalmist traces it all to one root, and does not leave himself out.
The worshipper here admits that the cause of all this human wickedness, which he had been considering, lies in having cast off the fear of God. He may also allow that the source, the heart itself, was in himself as in any other man. Indeed this Psalm helps the apostle with his divinely inspired verdict against man, as a completely corrupted creature. (See Romans 3:18.)
Deceit here has a purpose. It is how the man tries to prove himself right.
In his effort to prove himself right, he falls back on cunning. With deceitful words he tries to cover his sin. In malice he devises mischief, and is so lost to a true sense of right and wrong that he ceases to hate evil.
What follows in the psalm is not retaliation. The God-fearing man's answer to lying words is to hand the case to God.
In the presence of this great trial the God-fearing man does not take the smallest step to injure his enemy, or call down vengeance upon him. He finds comfort in turning to the Lord, and counting on His mercy and faithfulness. God's mercy can shelter him from all the malice of man, and His faithfulness will deal with all the evil. So there is no need for the God-fearing man to take up his own cause. His part is to commit himself to God, and leave everything in His hands.
- Root — It all grows from one cause. This man has thrown off the fear of God, and the psalmist admits the same root lies in his own heart.
- Words — Speech shows what is in the heart. Deceitful words come when a man would rather cover his guilt than confess it.
- Drift — Nobody starts out determined to be evil. Giving in to a few desires leads on, until a man is a complete victim of his own character.
- Choice — Ceasing to act wisely and do good is an act of the human will, set against God's will. Its ripe result is atheism.
- Answer — The God-fearing man takes no step to injure such a person. He commits the whole case to God's mercy and faithfulness.
He deviseth wickedness up on his bed; he setteth himself in a way that is not good he abhorreth not evil.
Psalm 36 paints a man with no fear of God, and verse 4 closes the portrait: quiet planning in the dark, then a settled refusal to hate evil. How does a person get there, and what should a believer do when facing someone like that?
The psalm's first four verses work through the wicked man in order. Verse 4 is the last panel: his ways. One writer notes when the plotting happens, and what the closing words say about how the man now feels about evil.
Four verses give us the complete description of the wicked: toward God, toward self, in his words, and in his ways. His words, which are here, as always, the index of the heart, are bound to be vanity and deceit. He plans folly on his bed — at the very time when a man would naturally be most sober. He then carries it out in a way that is not good, but which is good to him, for "he does not abhor evil." There the description ends. It gives us the principles of his life; all else would be only detail.
Two phrases in the verse rule out any plea of weakness. The plotting happens at night, and the man then places himself, on purpose, on a road he knows is wrong.
Even in the hours of night his thoughts devise wicked plans by which to gain his own ends. "He sets himself in a way that is not good." He does not merely slip into evil; he deliberately sets himself in that way. He certainly cannot plead ignorance or weakness when his guilt comes to light, for he has planned to act wrongly. "He does not abhor evil" — and hating evil should certainly be the attitude of every believer. Indeed believers are often shocked at the cold, heartless wickedness of such unbelievers.
One writer traces this deadened conscience back to the cover-up that comes with it — deceit that makes his own wrong look right.
Further, in his effort to prove himself right he falls back on trickery and, with words of deceit, tries to cover his iniquity. In malice he devises mischief, and is so lost to a true sense of right and wrong that he ceases to abhor evil.
Another writer describes the believer's opposite state: not innocence, but holiness.
A believer is "light in the Lord." Christ is the mirror of his conscience, as well as the salvation of his soul. The spiritual man judges all things. He is not innocent, but holy. Innocence implies an ignorance of sin and of its cause. Holiness understands both, and abhors them with a perfect and unchanging hatred.
The road he sets himself in does not stay private. One writer points to verse 11, where the man's hand reaches God's people, and to the reason behind it.
This Psalm calls him "the wicked," and also speaks of him in the plural as "the workers of iniquity." Verse 3 speaks of his words, and verse 4 of his way. Both are nothing but deceit and mischief. Verse 11 shows that his hand is against God's people because he is against God.
What makes this verse hard is its realism. An opponent may plan harm and feel nothing about it. One writer finds the comfort not in revenge, but in where God's mercy sits.
The trial is this. The ways of the wicked prove to the servant of God that they have no restraint of conscience. There is nothing to count on in them, and no check to malice by the fear of God. Flattering himself in his own sight, he devises mischief, he has no hatred of evil. It is hard to believe in this absence of conscience and this deliberate planning of harm; yet so it is. But the consolation is very great, and it casts the soul entirely on a faithful and all-gracious God, who is above all the schemes of man. "Your mercy, O Jehovah, is in the heavens." What can malice do then? Its schemes cannot reach there. Mercy is out of the reach of the wicked's devices.
(Darby quotes verse 5 in an older translation. The ESV reads, "Your steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens.")
That confidence shapes how the God-fearing man treats his enemy:
In the presence of this great trial the God-fearing man does not take the smallest step to injure his enemy, or call down vengeance upon him. He finds consolation in turning to the Lord, and counting on His mercy and faithfulness.
- No fear — the portrait starts with God out of sight, then moves through self, words, and ways.
- No sobriety — the plotting happens on his bed, at the hour when a man would normally be most sober-minded.
- No excuse — he does not slip into the wrong road; he sets himself in it, so he cannot plead ignorance or weakness.
- No abhorrence — here the description stops, and it need go no further. He has lost the sense of right and wrong that makes evil hateful.
- No reach — his schemes touch God's people, but never God's mercy in the heavens. So the God-fearing man injures no one and rests on God's faithfulness.
Jehovah, thy loving-kindness is in the heavens, and thy faithfulness [reacheth] unto the clouds.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Thy righteousness is like the high mountains; thy judgments are a great deep thou, Jehovah, preservest man and beast.
Psalm 36 sets two portraits side by side: man with no fear of God, and God Himself. Verse 6 sits in the middle of the second portrait. It holds three pictures: mountains, a great deep, and God's care for every living thing.
One writer sets out how the psalm is built:
The first four verses of the psalm describe man. Verses 5 to 9 set God before us. Verse 10 prays for the continued display of all that God is. Verses 11 and 12 pray for the removal of what man is. We only have to understand what man is and what God is to heartily agree with the prayers of the Psalmist.
The ESV calls them "the mountains of God." An older translation read "the great mountains," and put "the mountains of God" in its margin. One writer explains what that name adds:
"Your righteousness is like the great mountains." The margin reads, "the mountains of God (El)." That title means "The Mighty God." The word great does not refer to the mountains but to God. This statement reaches down to earth, and it involves the Son of God moving through this world in the moral elevation the mountains picture. Five times in Matthew's gospel we read of the Lord being on a mountain. Does this not assure us that, as He moved here as a man, His pathway through this world was one of moral elevation? This righteousness, seen in Him while He was here, showed itself in every step of His pathway.
Mountains stand unmoved. How can righteousness that firm go together with mercy?
Here is the absolute stability of His character, which does not compromise righteousness in the slightest degree. Who else could show pure mercy and perfect righteousness at the same time? But God proves His mercy and righteousness beautifully in the marvellous sacrifice of His own Son. There righteousness judged sin without any lessening of the judgment, so that He might show mercy to all who believe in this wonderful Saviour.
The second picture turns from what towers to what lies deep:
The unchanging principle of God's government in faithful love, His dealing in righteousness, is as firm and towering in strength as the mountains. His ways of judging and dealing are as deep but as mighty as the great deep. We cannot work out beforehand how or why. But He is working above the power of evil, and beyond the reach of small man, so that He can bring about His purposes of blessing through the malice of men.
Commentators differ on the reach of this phrase. Another reading takes the deep as the place Christ entered:
But if the righteousness of God was to reach us in blessing, another step was necessary… So we read of "a great deep." That is the place Christ went, in order to bring men into righteousness before God. The result of that stoop has secured preservation for man and beast. We know from Romans 8 that both man and the whole groaning creation will yet share in this recovery in the world to come.
Some read the last line as a promise that God will save every soul. One writer answers:
The reference is not to Christ's work, but to God's faithful care of His creatures, His children especially, in providence day by day. Where is the sense in reading the salvation of men's souls into the terms of the verse? Where is the agreement with other scriptures, which declare that God saves only those who believe?… Nothing here mentions Christ's death, even as a purchase, still less as redemption. It is a living God as Saviour in present labours and trials; and this goodness of His is real toward every child of man, especially toward believers.
Israel's law showed that same care. Every seventh year the farmers left the land unworked:
The land was to keep a Sabbath to the Lord that year… The farmer would still have full provision for his own needs and those of his household. But the cattle and the wild animals are God's creatures too. The Creator would care for them no less than for man, His intelligent creature… What the poor left, the animals of the field were to eat. The Lord preserves man and beast.
The opening verses describe an enemy with no fear of God. Here is how faith answers him:
Faced with this great trial the God-fearing man does not take the smallest step to injure his enemy, or call down vengeance on him. He finds comfort in turning to the Lord, and counting on His mercy and faithfulness.
- Height — "the mountains of God" carries God's own name. The word "great" belongs to Him, not to the mountains.
- Firmness — His righteousness never bends. At the cross it meets His mercy, and neither gives way.
- Depth — we cannot work out His judgments in advance. He works above the power of evil and beyond the reach of man.
- Breadth — "man and beast" points to God's daily care for His creatures, not to the salvation of every soul. That care is real toward all, and above all toward believers. Creation itself will yet share in the recovery.
- Rest — the man under attack does not strike back. He turns to the God whose righteousness towers and whose judgments run deep.
How precious is thy loving-kindness, O God! So the sons of men take refuge under the shadow of thy wings.
Psalm 36 sets two portraits side by side: a man with no fear of God in verses 1–4, and God Himself in verses 5–9. Verse 7 is the hinge where the psalm draws its conclusion — because of what God is, people come and hide under Him.
Some translations join the two halves of this verse with the word "therefore." The verse answers the lines just before it, which praise God's faithfulness. One writer traces the path from that faithfulness to our response:
The faithfulness of God! What a glorious fact this is, and how little we have grasped it. He must always be faithful to all that He is, and to all that He has said. He cannot deny Himself, nor can He deny the one who stakes everything on Him and the truth of His Word. That is why "the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings," as the psalm says. If our souls truly hold to the faithfulness of God, that is what we are bound to do. We see that He is wholly true, and so we should trust Him wholly.
The wings are a picture, not a literal thing. Scripture uses them for the cover a bird gives its young, and for the shelter David ran to when he was hunted:
When danger threatens her helpless chicks, the hen gathers them under her wings (Matthew 23:37). When David was fleeing from Saul, he took refuge in the shadow of the wings of his God (Psalm 57:1; see also Psalm 36:7; Psalm 61:4; Psalm 91:4).
Older translations say "lovingkindness" where the ESV says "steadfast love." That word shows the spirit in which God gives His shelter, and it widens the trouble the shelter covers:
There is another expression of great beauty, often found in the English Psalms and sometimes standing next to the one we are looking at: loving-kindness. It is a linked thought, and it shows the spirit, the grace, in which our God gives His protection… The tenderness of divine affection is part of His care for us. Comfort comes with the protection… An overwhelmed heart needs refuge, and so does the person hunted by enemies.
The same writer points out that English Bibles render this word in more than one way:
The same Hebrew word is also translated "mercy."
Some translations read "how precious is your mercy" rather than "how excellent." The sense of the word is drawn out as rarity — there is nothing else like it anywhere, and that is exactly what makes it inviting:
"How precious is Your loving-kindness, O God!" (v. 7). Such loving-kindness is so uncommon that you find it nowhere else. So it gives us every encouragement to put our trust under the shadow of His wings. What a wonderful place of comfort and rest!
The psalm has just described human corruption. Yet the ones who now take refuge are the children of mankind — those same sinful people:
What is more, God has revealed His loving-kindness to man. So, despite their sin, the children of men can put their trust under the shadow of His wings.
Trust is the first thing this kindness produces in us, and God's goodness — not fear — draws it out:
The first effect in us, when we came to appreciate this lovingkindness, was that we put our trust in God. Being under the shadow of His wings means we are safe forever. No wonder the apostle writes, "the goodness of God leads you to repentance" (Romans 2:4).
Verse 7 does not stop at safety. The next verse turns the covering into a feast, and the One who shielded becomes the thing enjoyed:
What we find now is not just a defence against malice that has no conscience. We find the positive goodness of the One in whom that defence is found. The children of men put their trust under the shadow of God's wings because His lovingkindness is excellent… But this carries the believer even further. The goodness that has sheltered and protected him becomes his portion.
- Contrast. The wicked man of verses 1–4 has no fear of God. Verse 7 answers him with a God so faithful that trusting Him is the only sensible response.
- Character. We do not hide in God because we feel safe. We hide there because He cannot deny Himself.
- Covering. "Wings" pictures a bird over its young — cover for the helpless, and the shelter David ran to when Saul hunted him.
- Comfort. "Lovingkindness" — also translated "mercy" — names the tenderness behind the shelter. It meets an overwhelmed heart as well as a hunted one.
- Consequence. Those who come are sinners, drawn by goodness, not driven by fear. The shelter they run to becomes the portion they feed on.
They shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house; and thou wilt make them drink of the river of thy pleasures.
This verse comes straight after the picture of people taking refuge under God's wings. Shelter now becomes a meal. The God who protects also feeds and gives drink. Older translations render it "the fatness of your house" and "the river of your pleasures," and commentators ask what that house supplies and where the river comes from.
Shelter is not where this psalm stops. What guarded the trusting soul now becomes what he lives on.
The goodness which has sheltered and protected him becomes his portion. Such is the blessed effect of being entirely cast on God and driven away from man. Brought under the shadow of God's wings, they enjoy the fatness of His dwelling place... There are joys and pleasures that belong to God's house, yes, to God Himself. This is characteristic of the joy of the saints, and can only be when we are made partakers of the divine nature.
Both words are pictures. The second one holds a surprise in the Hebrew.
God's house is the place where He dwells, and fatness signifies fullness of supply. There must of course be an infinite supply of all that is good in the dwelling place of God. From there flows what the Psalmist calls "the river of Your pleasures." The word for pleasures is really Eden, only it is in the plural — "The river of Your Edens." The Eden of Genesis 2:8 had a river, but outside it parted and became four heads. It was one Eden with many rivers. The psalm speaks of many Edens with one river.
In the offerings, the fat was always God's own share. That is what makes this verse so striking.
In the details of the offerings we learn that the fat was always for God; it was His portion of that which speaks of Christ. So we are brought to enjoy the Father's pleasure in His well-beloved Son. Surely this is the place where desire is satisfied. He who is the "bread of God" is also the "bread of life." He is food for God and food for His people... Bread sustains and water satisfies. In the house of God we have both: full support and full satisfaction.
This promise is not for everybody. It is for the people of the previous verse, who took refuge under His wings. That limit says nothing mean about God.
He is not, as Satan insinuated in Genesis 3, a God who withholds from His creatures what is for their good and blessing, who wants to hold them back. On the contrary, He wants to fill them full out of His own fullness, so that they will be "abundantly satisfied." But only those who put their trust in Him receive this full satisfaction. Those who do not trust Him would not want it.
One writer traces the river back to what God settled before time began.
Does not this picture speak of the eternal purposes of God, settled before the foundation of the world? No evil of man, and no failure of the saints, can touch them. In every age, despite all the power of the enemy and the evil of men, God is carrying out His pleasure to have a people for His own glory, by Christ Jesus... This river of God's pleasure flows from eternity to eternity, and our souls are given to drink of its blessedness as we pass through time.
Earlier the psalm has human malice in view. Inside God's house that malice drops out of sight.
In God's house, man, and his malice, are forgotten, and everything speaks of God and His glory... For the Christian the Father's house is where Christ has gone. No shadow of death will ever fall on that home. Nothing that defiles can enter it, and love and holiness fill the scene.
Commentators also read the promise forward. One writer applies it to Israel, who left the land and still look to be satisfied in God's house.
Had the nation only valued its blessing, it would never have left its land... Psalm 36 had announced that the righteous would be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of God's house... They are not looking now for a taste of goodness, a slight sense of what God could give. They look to be fully satisfied, as Jeremiah so beautifully put it.
- Trust first. Verse 7 puts people under His wings; verse 8 fills them. The shelter comes first, and only those who take it want what follows.
- Fatness means fullness. God's house is where He lives, and there can be no shortage of anything good there.
- God's own portion. The fat belonged to God in the offerings — so the food He shares is His own delight in His Son.
- One river, many Edens. Eden had one garden and four rivers. Here many Edens feed one river, and it runs from eternity to eternity.
- Malice forgotten. Man and his malice have no place inside the house. There, everything speaks of God.
For with thee is the fountain of life in thy light shall we see light.
The psalm has just described God's house, its rich food, and a river of His delights. Now it gives the reason under all that plenty: life has a fountain and light has a source, and both are with God.
Up to this line the psalm has described what God is for His people in trouble. Here it turns.
Up to this point it has spoken rather of what God is for us, seen as shelter, protection and comfort — in a word, a resource. But it has brought us into the rich plenty of His house and the rivers of His pleasures. Now it speaks of what God is in His own being as blessing. What is in us is here seen in Him as its source. "With You is," says the psalm; "it shall be in him," says the Lord, of the Christian.
So what is this life?
With Him is the fountain of life — a phrase of great weight, though never fully revealed until Christ came. Life is a living connection with the source of blessing, or at least a living enjoyment of His favour.
The word "fountain" points to a place. Life has only one such place.
This fountain is with God and nowhere else. That holds for life in its lower forms in the natural world around us, and for life in its higher forms in the world of spirit.
That word matters most to someone who is empty and thirsty.
God can fill the hungry soul. "With You is the fountain of life." The cistern may be empty and cannot fill us. But the fountain is filling. The fullness of God is an infinite fullness. It knows neither bounds nor bottom.
The exact title is rare, and it ties this psalm to two other books.
The Bible speaks of the Fountain of Life only four times, although a fountain of life is often mentioned. One of them is here in Psalm 36:9. Twice in Jeremiah we have this beautiful title (Jer. 2:13 and Jer. 17:13). The fourth comes in Revelation 21:6.
The psalmist could say where the fountain was. He could not yet say that it had appeared.
The life spoken of is life of the highest character. The apostle John goes on to say, "The life was made manifest." Life, as we know it in creation, may take many forms. But only one life deserves the name THE life. That is "the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us." The Fountain of life truly was with God. Since the Psalmist's day it has all come into full view in the Son, who became man.
The second half of the verse follows the same pattern. God does not just hold light. He sends it out.
God shines out, as well as being a source. He has life in Himself, but with Him is the fountain of it. He is light, but He shines forth, He gives light. So with Christ: in Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And even we — Christ is our life, and we are light in the Lord. In the middle of darkness and trial, this is the confidence: the Lord in grace was a source of life, and in His light they would see light.
Light adds nothing to a thing. It shows the thing as it is. What it shows can hurt before it helps.
Light shows everything just as it is. It may be painful to have our illusions stripped away and to discover our wretched condition. Still, what it uncovers is of infinite and unspeakable value to us, because the true light lets me see not only what I am, but what God is.
The fountain stays with God, but it is not sealed off. Three gifts arrive together.
The fountain of life is with God, but He has not held it back; it is flowing toward us all. It is life in the power of the Holy Spirit, "living water" as our Lord called it. Both life and light are available to us in the power of the Spirit of God. Added to this is "lovingkindness." Who but the Son could have made life, light and love available to us? — He who came down from heaven to do the will of Him who sent Him.
- Source. The fountain is with God. We never own life on our own, and the psalm names the one place to draw it from.
- Supply. A cistern can run dry; a fountain keeps filling, so the fullness offered here has no floor and no edge.
- Shown. The psalmist knew where the fountain was. John announces that the life with the Father has appeared in the Son.
- Sight. God does not only hold light, He sheds it — and in it we see two things at once, what we are and what He is.
- Stream. The fountain is not held back but flowing toward us, carrying life, light and love in the power of the Spirit.
Continue thy loving-kindness unto them that know thee, and thy righteousness to the upright in heart;
Psalm 36 sets two portraits side by side. First comes a man with no fear of God. Then comes God Himself: mercy in the heavens, faithfulness to the clouds, a house of plenty, a fountain of life. Verse 10 turns from description to prayer. It asks one thing — that what God is would keep flowing to those who know Him.
One writer traces the psalm in four steps. This verse is where praise turns into prayer.
The first four verses of the psalm describe man. Verses 5 to 9 set God before us. Verse 10 prays for the continued display of all that God is. Verses 11 and 12 pray for the removal of what man is. We only have to understand what man is and what God is to heartily agree with the prayers of the Psalmist.
Older translations say "lovingkindness" here. It is the same word used earlier in the psalm for God's mercy in the heavens. One word carries several notes at once.
This word "mercy" is the same word that this Psalm translates twice as "lovingkindness." It seems to be a compound word, and we can translate it as mercy, love, kindness or, as here, lovingkindness. That mercy was towards us in the heavens. It is the fruit of the love of God, and this had its beginning in the heavens.
The psalmist asks out of fullness, not emptiness. He has been enjoying God's blessings, and his prayer carries a settled confidence.
As the soul enjoys these blessings, it again expresses its confidence in the loving-kindness and righteousness of God. Those who know God and walk uprightly can count on God to uphold them, while the proud and the wicked will finally fall to rise no more.
The psalm has already shown us the alternative: a man whose eyes are full of himself. Knowing God reverses that, and fills the whole horizon with Him.
The wicked centres all his thoughts on himself; he sees nothing but self, not God (Ps. 36:1-2). But for those who know Him (v. 10) the universe is filled with what they have learned of Him. In the heavens is His mercy. His faithfulness reaches up to the clouds. His righteousness is like the great mountains, and His judgments are a vast ocean.
Two marks identify the people this prayer is for. Two opposite marks identify the enemy.
The closing verses come back to the present hope of deliverance under God's rule, and the certainty that it will come. What marks the righteous here is knowing Jehovah and being upright in heart. What marks the enemies is pride and wickedness. He sees them, by faith, all fallen and unable to rise.
Notice the plural. The psalmist does not ask for himself alone. One writer sees the prayer widening to take in everyone bound up with him.
Conscious of all this, the psalmist commits himself, and all who are linked with him, to God. He prays that this generous mercy will continue to those who know Him, and His righteousness to the upright.
Another writer hears in it the Spirit at work, shaping what afflicted people want.
In verse 10 we hear a sweet word from the Spirit of intercession. He draws the hearts of God's suffering people to desire His right ways. They know Him, and their trust is in His righteousness. In light or darkness faith still clings to God. He is His children's confidence, while men and their ways are objects of fear and alarm.
We can safely ask this, because God will always be what He is.
He must always be faithful to all that He is, and to all that He has said. He cannot deny Himself, nor can He deny the one who stakes everything on Him and the truth of His Word.
And the answer keeps coming while there are hearts that want it.
In this Psalm David asks that lovingkindness and righteousness may continue to the upright in heart. We can be sure these things will continue as long as there are people in this world who value and desire them.
- Continue — the verse asks God to keep showing all that verses 5 to 9 celebrate. Praise turns into prayer.
- Lovingkindness — one rich word for mercy, love and kindness. It begins in the heavens, and its fruit reaches down to us.
- Know — the wicked man sees only himself. Those who know God see Him filling the whole universe.
- Upright — the people who receive this mercy know God and are upright in heart. Pride and wickedness oppose them, and both will fall.
- Keep flowing — the psalmist prays not just for himself but for all who are linked with him. This mercy keeps flowing wherever people still want it.
Let not the foot of pride come against me, and let not the hand of the wicked drive me away.
The psalm has just set God before us, and now it turns to prayer against a proud foot and a wicked hand. Why does a soul so full of God still need to ask for protection at all?
The psalm sets two subjects side by side — man and God — and then prays about each in turn.
The first four verses of the psalm describe man. Verses 5 to 9 set God before us. Verse 10 prays for the continued display of all that God is. Verses 11 and 12 pray for the removal of what man is. We only have to understand what man is and what God is to gladly agree with the prayers of the psalmist.
"The foot of pride" is the last step in a chain, and the chain starts much earlier in the psalm.
The FOOT of pride. Verse 11 refers to this. It is the next step downwards after flattery. The sequence is quite plain. First God is dismissed from his thoughts because he does not fear Him. Then he entertains high and mighty ideas about himself, and he lets others know it. He flatters himself that he is this and that. As the direct result of this, pride fills his heart, and he is quite ready to aim "the foot of pride" at those who do fear God. He cannot lift the foot of pride against God, for God is far beyond his reach. But he will lift it against the saints of God, who are within his reach. The saints, however, need not cringe in abject fear. There is a limit to his pride and his power.
The wicked man's hand has a reason for reaching out, and the reason is not personal.
He is called "the wicked" in this Psalm, and also spoken of in the plural as "the workers of iniquity." It may be that the Holy Spirit had in mind that sinister figure called "that wicked" in 2 Thessalonians 2:8. That may be why He used the singular in verses 1 and 11, and moved to the plural in verse 12: both the Antichrist and all his followers will be swallowed up in ruin… Verse 11 shows that his hand is against God's people because he is against God.
He asks for two things at once, and he asks them for others as well as for himself.
Aware of all this, the psalmist commits himself, and all who are bound up with him, to God. He prays that this generous mercy will continue to those who know Him, and His righteousness to the upright. In the necessary conflict with evil, he prays for deliverance from the foot of pride and the hand of the wicked. And he foresees the inevitable collapse of the workers of emptiness — an overthrow as complete as it is final.
The prayer does not hang unanswered. In the closing lines the two sides are named, and faith looks past the present danger to the settled outcome.
What marks the righteous here is the knowledge of Jehovah and an upright heart. What marks their enemies is pride and wickedness. By faith he sees them all fallen and unable to rise.
The verse's older wording says "remove" — and the roles end up exchanged.
There are the workers of iniquity FALLEN. At the end comes the inevitable crash. Poor little man may look impressive for a time. The godly may cry out, "Let not the hand of the wicked remove me." But it is the wicked who is removed, not the godly.
What happens here to one proud man is the shape of a much older story — and of its opposite.
We may apply all this to man in a more general way. It is really the story of the first man and his race. One of the great sayings of our Lord is, "Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." The first half of the saying gives us the history of the first man in miniature. The second half shines above all in the wonderful story of the holy and blessed One who spoke those words. Who would trust the one? And who would not trust the Other?
- Root — Pride starts when a man pushes God out of his thoughts. Self-flattery follows, and the lifted foot comes last.
- Reach — He cannot touch God, so he aims at those within reach: God's people. His hand is against them because he is against God.
- Request — The prayer asks two things: that God keep showing what He is, and that He remove what man is. It prays for a whole company, not one man.
- Restraint — There is a limit to his pride and his power, so the saints need not cringe in fear.
- Reversal — The wicked, not the godly, is the one removed; the workers of iniquity fall and cannot rise.
There are the workers of iniquity fallen they are cast down, and are not able to rise.
The psalm has set two portraits side by side. One is man, who shuts out the fear of God. The other is God, faithful and the fountain of life. This last line is where the first portrait ends. It reads like a scene already witnessed: the fall has happened, and there is no getting up.
The verse is where the whole psalm has been heading. One writer maps its movement:
The first four verses of the psalm describe man. Verses 5 to 9 set God before us. Verse 10 prays for the continued display of all that God is. Verses 11 and 12 pray for the removal of what man is. We only have to understand what man is and what God is to heartily agree with the prayers of the Psalmist. It is remarkable that in this psalm, man comes first. It begins with what he is, and ends with his removal.
The same writer sums up each side in a short list:
The contrast then is complete. GOD: marked by faithfulness, by fatness, by the fountain of life. Man: marked by shutting out the fear of God, by flattery, by the foot of pride, and by a terrible fall at the end.
Earlier the psalm speaks of "the wicked" as a single person; here it turns to a crowd. One writer offers a suggestion for why the number changes:
He is called "the wicked" in this Psalm, and also spoken of in the plural as "the workers of iniquity." It may be that the Holy Spirit had in mind that sinister figure called "the lawless one" in 2 Thessalonians 2:8. That may be why He used the singular in verses 1 and 11, and then the plural in verse 12. The reason: both the Antichrist and all his followers will be swallowed up in ruin.
(Older translations call him "that Wicked" in 2 Thessalonians 2:8.)
"Not able to rise" is the heart of the verse. One writer traces how the psalmist reaches it:
In the necessary conflict with evil, he prays for deliverance from the foot of pride and the hand of the wicked. And he foresees the necessary collapse of the workers of vanity; an overthrow as complete as it is final.
Another writer sets that fall beside its opposite:
While the soul enjoys these blessings, it again voices its confidence in the loving-kindness and righteousness of God. Those who know God and walk uprightly can count on God to uphold them, while the proud and the wicked will finally fall to rise no more.
The psalmist has just prayed for protection. Then he speaks of the fall as already done. That is assurance speaking, not hindsight.
The closing verses come back to the present hopes of deliverance by God's government, and to the assurance that He will bring it about. What marks the righteous here is the knowledge of Jehovah and an upright heart. What marks the enemies is pride and wickedness. He sees them, by faith, all fallen and unable to rise.
Verse 11 asked that the hand of the wicked would not drive the godly away. The last verse answers by reversing the roles:
At the end there comes the inevitable crash. Poor little man may look impressive enough for a time. The godly may cry out, "let not ... the hand of the wicked drive me away." Yet it is the wicked who is driven away, not the godly. The shining out of the Lord's coming will destroy him. He and his helpers are to fall, and once cast down they will not be able to rise.
The same writer marks how far that pride can reach:
The wicked cannot lift the foot of pride against God, since God is far beyond his reach. But he will lift it against the saints of God, who are within his reach. There is a limit to his pride and his power.
The verse describes more than one enemy or one era:
We may apply all this to man in a more general way. It is really the story of the first man and his race. One of the great sayings of our Lord is, "Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." The first part of the saying gives the history of the first man in miniature. The second part shines above all in the wonderful story of the holy and blessed One who spoke those words. Who would trust the one? And who would not trust the Other?
- Structure. The psalm opens with what man is and closes with his removal; verse 12 is the end of a line drawn from verse 1.
- Contrast. God is faithfulness, fullness and the fountain of life. Man shuts out the fear of God, flatters, walks in pride — and falls at the last.
- Finality. "Not able to rise" marks an overthrow as complete as it is final. The God who casts the proud down upholds those who know Him.
- Assurance. The psalmist speaks of the fall as already done. By faith he sees his enemies fallen before the day comes.
- Reversal. The godly prayed not to be driven away; it is the wicked who are driven away — pride has a reach, but also a limit.
([A Psalm] of David.) Fret not thyself because of evil-doers, and be not envious of them that work unrighteousness;
Psalm 37 opens with a problem every honest believer meets: wicked people often do well, and it stings. Its first words give no explanation — they give a command about the heart, and the reasons follow in the rest of the psalm.
The success of the wicked is real, but the psalm treats it as short-lived.
The first two verses present the theme of the psalm — a warning to the godly not to fret in spirit because of the present prosperity of the wicked. Like the grass they will soon be cut down.
The psalm sets two groups side by side, and gives each a different future.
Psalm 36 shows us the wicked set against God's character. Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two parts. The first concerns the present life, when evildoers are the great majority and hold the upper hand. The second concerns the coming age, when God will remove evildoers in judgment and the godly will enter the liberty of glory.
The two forbidden attitudes are not the same, and neither is innocent.
Self-will and the desire for present satisfaction get mixed in with the love of righteousness. A person wants righteousness, sometimes partly out of fear of the power of evil, and at the same time is selfish because he wants a quiet life. Such a person easily frets because evil has its way. All of this is the same spirit of unbelief, joined with other desires. But it is unbelief and self-will. The wrath of man does not work the righteousness of God. We are not to fret, which is distrust. We are not to envy either, which is even worse, because it is self-interest.
Being sensitive to wrong does not protect you from this. It can make you more vulnerable.
This "fretting" is a very common complaint, and Christians are not free from it. In fact, they have a sharper sense of what is evil and a deeper appreciation of righteousness, so they may be more prone to it than anyone... We seem to be in so many awkward situations, and the evildoers seem to have such an easy time! Nothing is easier than to envy them — and fret.
Under the complaint about injustice sits something much smaller and more personal.
Alas, it is this envy that lies at the bottom of the fretting... We are like a child who sulks and frets because another child was given a bigger apple — and the child with the big apple was the naughty one! Oh, what mischief can envy work in the heart of a saint!
Anger at the evildoer ends up shaping the angry person.
So stop being angry and let go of wrath. Their only result is to make you copy the evil you resent.
That does not mean pretending the wrongs are not there.
We cannot stop seeing the sad deeds of those who do evil. To stop would only mean shutting our eyes to the facts and living in a fool's paradise. We should not stop feeling the wrongs, the oppression and the strife. That would crush the God-given feelings and sympathies inside us, which are ours because we are born of God. But we should stop fretting.
Verse 2 gives the reason, and it also shows who has the right to act.
Those who do evil are not going to last for ever, as verse 2 shows... but the judgment that ends their career is God's act, not ours. It is a good thing that it is God's act. We are far too small, too one-sided in our thinking and too self-centred for such a trust.
The psalm does not stop at what to avoid. It gives five positive commands.
Faith in the Lord is the way of escape from this snare. So the word to the godly soul is, "Trust in the Lord"; "delight yourself also in the Lord"; "Commit your way to the Lord"; "Rest in the Lord"; and "wait upon the Lord."
The alternative to fretting has a name, and a perfect example.
Meekness, which ends in the inheritance (see Matt. 5:5), seems to be the attitude of soul that makes us willing to be nothing until the promised inheritance comes. The Lord Jesus, in whom everything was perfect, expressed it fully. Though Lord of all, He was content to have nothing... This Psalm may therefore be read by us all.
- Fret — the command targets the heart, not the circumstances; the evil is real, but the psalm forbids the agitation about it.
- Distrust — fretting is unbelief and self-will in disguise; envy is worse still, because it is plain self-interest.
- Envy — it hides under the complaint; we say wickedness grieves us, when what stings is that the wicked have the bigger apple.
- Copy — left alone, fretting makes us imitate the evil we resent, so anger at sin ends in sin of our own.
- Wait — the wicked are grass; God removes them, not us, so trust, delight, commit, rest and wait take the place of fretting.
for they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and fade as the green herb.
The psalm opens by forbidding two reactions: fretting and envy. This second verse gives the reason. What looks like the success of wrongdoers lasts only a short season. So the question is this: do we judge people by what we can see now, or by the end God has fixed for them?
The verse is not a bare statement about grass. It gives a reason to a heart that is troubled by what it sees.
The first section insists that the blessing of the righteous lasts for ever. It sets this against the quick and complete end of the wicked. It makes this an argument for full rest of heart in committing yourself to God. Wickedness seems to succeed now, and that naturally stirs up fretting and envy of the man who appears to have so much the best of it in things here. But this forgets that faith's part must be in the unseen.
The trouble is rarely a pure concern for what is right. It is the sting of comparison.
It is this envy that lies at the bottom of the fretting. We are under trial, and the worker of wrong seems to be having such an easy time. We cannot bear it! We are like a child in a nursery who pouts and frets because the other child has a bigger apple than the one he was given. And the owner of the big apple was the naughty child of the nursery! Oh, what mischief envy can work in the heart of a believer! And what misery too it can produce, and what sin!
Another writer gives each of these feelings its plain name:
The first exhortation is to peacefulness of spirit, and it is general and applies to the state of the mind... We are neither to fret, which is distrust, nor to be envious, which is even worse and is self-interest.
The verse promises an ending. But that ending is God's work, not ours.
And moreover, it is all so futile! The workers of wrong are not going to continue for ever, as verse 2 shows... but the judgment that ends the evildoer's career is the act of God, not an act of ours. It is a good thing that it is God's act, because we are far too small, too one-sided in our thoughts, and too self-centred to be trusted with it. Our anger and our wrath against sin can never have the height and holiness that belong to God.
Withering grass can sound like being wiped out of existence, and some read the verse that way.
People bring in a host of passages here that say nothing at all about eternal judgment. They speak only of what the Old Testament is full of — the removal of sinners from the earth, so that the righteous may inherit it. The thirty-seventh psalm is an example of this... This is the language people constantly quote to prove annihilation! It is quite true that the Old Testament is full of it, for it is full of the time we usually call "millennial." In that time all this will be fulfilled, and the earth will be cleansed of the long reign of evil on it. But this language says nothing of hell or of eternal judgment.
The psalm does not say this once and drop it. One writer finds God's care behind the repetition.
God knows where the believer is in danger of breaking down, before the day of deliverance dawns. So He encourages him to be quiet and to wait... And as if to stress the command to be patient under evil, we meet the words "Fret not yourself" three times in the first eight verses. They are: "Fret not yourself because of evildoers" (verse 1); "fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way" (7); "Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil" (8). In judging people and things, how likely we are to make mistakes!
- Sight — the eye says wrongdoers have the easier life, and that is what starts the fretting.
- Envy — under the fretting sits the nursery quarrel over whose apple is bigger. It breeds mischief, misery and sin.
- Reason — the verse answers with a fact the eye cannot see. That success fades fast, and faith's part is in the unseen.
- Restraint — the ending belongs to God, not to us. Our anger never has the height and holiness that belong to Him.
- Rest — so the command comes three times in eight verses. God knows where we are likely to break down before deliverance dawns.
Confide in Jehovah, and do good; dwell in the land, and feed on faithfulness;
Psalm 37 speaks to a moment when the wicked seem to be winning and God's people feel the pull to fret or run. Verse 3 answers with four short commands. The last one is the hardest to translate: the ESV has "befriend faithfulness," while others read "feed on faithfulness" or "you shall be fed."
Verses 1 and 2 warn against fretting over evildoers. Verse 3 gives the positive answer.
The first exhortation is to peacefulness of spirit, and it is general and applies to the state of the mind. "Fret not yourself." When self-will and the desire of present satisfaction mixes itself with the love of righteousness... one is apt to fret oneself because evil has its way. All this is unbelief and self-will... Then comes the positive direction in what spirit we are to walk. What is the resource against the power of evil? "Trust in the Lord, and do good."
Each attitude works like a root, and each grows its own crop.
The fretful spirit is like a root out of which springs a good deal of evil. Confidence in God is a root out of which nothing but good springs. It sets the heart at rest. It calms the spirit. It frees us from fretting. Evildoers may be very irritating and annoying, even provoking in the extreme. But the Lord is on high, and He has not loosened His grip on things.
The order in the verse matters. Trust that leaves conduct untouched is not the trust this verse means.
"Trust in the Lord, and do good." This is the divine order. But to talk of trusting in the Lord while doing evil turns the grace of our God into an excuse for sin. It puts us completely into the hands of the devil, who only seeks our moral ruin... When we have a good conscience, we can lift up the head and move on through all sorts of difficulties. But trying to walk the path of faith with a bad conscience is the most dangerous thing in the world.
When evil looks unstoppable, the instinct is to get out. One writer shows what God says instead:
To the outward eye the wicked and the persecutors prosper, and get their own way without any hindrance. So the temptation would be to run, to look for refuge outside the borders of the land, where evil seemed to be winning. No, says the Spirit of God: "Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land, and feed on faithfulness." Feed on God's faithfulness, sure that He will not forget His tested and oppressed people, and that in His own time He will deal with their oppressors.
As a fugitive, David moved his parents to Moab for safety. Should he stay outside the land himself?
No; the word is David's own, once he had learned the lesson: "Dwell in the land, and truly you shall be fed." The land was Israel's inheritance, God's gift. Nothing, then, could take it from the faith that laid hold of it.
One writer weighs the renderings:
The simplest meaning seems to be "and nourish faithfulness," or "feed in security."
One writer applies it to Christians now:
We do not expect to "dwell in the land," for heaven is our home, but the words that follow apply to us, "truly you shall be fed"... If we do sincerely trust in the Lord then truly we shall feed on faithfulness — God's faithfulness. We shall so experience His faithfulness that it becomes our very food and drink.
Trust is the first of four steps in this psalm, and each prepares the next.
In Psalm 37 there are four conditions of soul in connection with this, and each is dependent on the other, or each is fitness for the next. "Trust in the Lord;" "Delight yourself in the Lord;" "Commit your way to the Lord;" "Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him;" that is, wait till He acts for you.
And the promise does not rest on the strength of our grip:
Still we must never forget one thing. His trustworthiness does not depend in the least on how strong or weak our trust is. "If we are faithless, He remains faithful — for He cannot deny Himself" (2 Timothy 2:13). So here is a happy fact: those who are weak in faith, and so do not trust Him fully, still find Him wholly true.
- Fret → Trust. Fretting over evildoers mixes self-will into the love of righteousness. It is unbelief. Trust is the resource against the power of evil.
- Trust → Good. The order is fixed: trust first, then do good. Claiming to trust God while doing evil hands you over to ruin.
- Trust → Stay. "Dwell in the land" is a command not to flee. The inheritance is God's gift, and nothing can take it from the faith that holds it.
- Trust → Feed. The closing phrase reads better as feeding on faithfulness. God's own faithfulness becomes our food and drink.
- Trust → Rest. Verse 3 opens a ladder: trust, delight, commit, rest and wait. And weak trust still finds Him wholly true, because His faithfulness does not depend on ours.
and delight thyself in Jehovah, and he will give thee the desires of thy heart.
Psalm 37 speaks into a setting where dishonest people do well and the faithful get pushed around, and there it gives a command with a promise attached. So the question is practical: does God hand us whatever we want, or does something happen to our wanting first?
This psalm speaks to a small group under pressure, not to people whose lives are easy.
The Psalm applies to the faithful few who are left in the last days... verses 1, 7 and 8 are meant to encourage the weak few. In that coming time of trouble for Israel, evil of every kind will surround them. From the outside it looks like the wicked and the persecutors are doing well. They get their own way, and nothing stops them.
Nothing around the psalm writer could produce this delight. It had to come from somewhere else.
The Psalmist saw nothing in his surroundings that awakened delight — quite the opposite. The evildoers pressed in on every side with their persecuting and irritating ways. When all this is going on it is good to trust instead of fretting. It is also good to find a spring of gladness that never fails, outside the world the evildoers control. That spring of joy is in the Lord Himself.
Verse 3 tells the reader to trust and do good. Verse 4 is the next step, and it shapes what a person wants.
But trust in the Lord will lead further, to "Delight yourself in the LORD" (v. 4). When we find our whole pleasure in Him, we will always be in step with His pleasure. If our delight is in ourselves, our desires will be selfish. If our delight is in the Lord, we will want what pleases Him.
The promise holds because delight changes the person praying. It also explains why some prayers go unanswered, and others only half answered.
Why is this? The answer is simple. When we delight in the Lord, we delight in His holy will. His thoughts become our thoughts, His desires become our desires. When our thoughts and desires are far from His, our desires are not fulfilled. When our desires are partly in keeping with His, then our desires are only partly fulfilled. When our desires wholly agree with His, then, and only then, are all our desires fulfilled. It is good to enjoy God's people, and to find joy in the work of the Lord. But if we delight in these instead of in the Lord, we are in for big disappointments.
These desires have the Lord Himself as their object. The next verse tells the same person to hand over their situation and wait.
Next, delight yourself in the LORD: He will give the desires of the heart. Holy desires, which have Himself for their object, will be satisfied. But opposition, shame, perhaps false accusation, is there. "Commit your way to the LORD." How true this is! He always, as people say, has the last word, if we only have the faith to wait for it.
Read on its own, the verse can sound like a formula for getting what you want. One commentator warns against pulling such promises out of the rest of Scripture.
We cannot take isolated portions but the whole word of God. "Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart." Delighting in the Lord forms desires that agree with the mind of God. "He gave them what they asked, but sent a wasting disease among them" — older translations read "sent leanness into their souls" — so we need to be on our guard about what we ask... about many other things we can only say, "If it is the Lord's will." Then we trust His wisdom as well as His power. Some seem to think power is the only thing. But we want to trust His love and wisdom.
The exchange runs both ways. The return is larger than the asking, but a divided heart never knows it.
Christ cannot live in a divided heart. If He enters it, He claims to be the undisputed Lord of its affections... If we delight in Him, He will delight in us, and in giving us the conscious enjoyment of Himself He gives far more than the desires of our hearts (Ps. 37:4). It takes an undivided eye to see Him, and an undivided heart to hold Him fast.
- Trust — the command lands on people who are surrounded by evil and tempted to fret. Trusting the Lord and doing good comes first.
- Delight — you have to draw the gladness from the Lord Himself, because the surroundings offer nothing to be glad about.
- Desire — delighting in Him reshapes what you want. His thoughts become your thoughts, and He answers the desires that agree with His.
- Discern — read the promise with the rest of Scripture. God once gave a people what they asked and sent a wasting disease with it, so we trust His wisdom and love, not only His power.
- Receive — He answers our delight in Him with His delight in us, and gives back more than we asked: the enjoyment of Himself.
Commit thy way unto Jehovah, and rely upon him he will bring [it] to pass;
Psalm 37 speaks to people surrounded by wrongdoers who get away with it, and verse 5 answers that pressure. What does it mean to hand your way over to God, and what does He then "bring to pass"?
The psalm looks ahead to a day when God sets everything right in public. But it speaks to the long wait before that day.
Psalm 37 is closely tied to the way God rules this world directly. That rule will be proved true when the meek inherit the land and the wicked are cut off. The time for God to display that rule in public has not come. Evil will no doubt press harder just before He puts it down. Until then it is still the time of patience, and the evil is there.
Some Bibles print another wording in the margin: "roll." That picture turns the command into relief, not one more duty.
"Commit your way to the Lord," or, as the margin has it, "Roll your way upon the Lord." How often our circumstances are so puzzling and hard that our way seems blocked and impossible. Sometimes people misjudge us, crush us, even persecute us. What can we do? We can roll the responsibility of our way upon the Lord, and rely on Him. There is immense relief in this. He takes the load off our weak shoulders and puts it on His strong ones.
One writer saw the same picture in a weight too heavy to lift.
Sometimes the load of care seems too heavy to cast it anywhere. Then the Lord invites us to "roll your way upon the Lord" (Ps. 37:5, margin). As children in Canada, we made great snowballs in the winter. When they got too heavy to lift, we could still roll them. So roll that great load of care on Him, "because it is a matter of care to Him, concerning you," as the original Greek puts it.
The verse does not stand alone. It comes after two earlier commands, and that order is deliberate.
Committing our way to the Lord assumes, of course, that we are in the middle of trouble and testing from our enemies. Let us remember that it is not the first instruction, nor the second, but the third. It takes for granted that we are trusting in the Lord and finding our delight in Him. Then, and only then, will we be ready to roll our way upon Him and know that, as a happy result, "He will bring it to pass."
Read across the whole paragraph, these commands form one continuous answer to the temptation the psalm describes.
(vv. 3-11) Faith in the Lord is the way of escape from this snare. So the word to the godly soul is: "Trust in the Lord"; "Delight yourself in the Lord"; "Commit your way to the Lord"; "Be still before the Lord"; and "wait patiently for Him."
Committing is a single act. The trusting that follows is daily, and the verse joins the two.
In daily life we need this, because each day brings its own needs. Only the Lord can guide us well, so that we do not take a wrong step. Once we commit our way to Him, He expects full confidence in His leading. We are not to be afraid. We trust Him for every step, with the sure assurance of faith.
The outcome is that God makes your righteousness plain for all to see. That is His to give, and He is never rushed.
"Commit your way to the Lord." How true this is! He always has, as people say, the last word, if only we have the faith to wait for it. He will bring about the result the righteous heart desires, and make its righteousness clear.
Job shows what this looks like — and warns about the delay we create ourselves. (Job was the man who lost everything and was then accused by his own friends of deserving it.)
When his friends slandered Job, he felt it deeply. For a long time he fought for his own reputation instead of committing his way to the Lord. When he finally did this, God soon brought forth his righteousness as the light and his justice as the noonday.
The same command feels different to different people. The difference is not in their circumstances.
The instruction "Roll your way upon the Lord" is a hard saying where godliness is at a low ebb. Where it is a full-flowing tide it is easy, and a delightful relief.
- Setting — The psalm speaks to the time before God puts evil down. Until then it is "the time of patience, and the evil is there."
- Sequence — Committing is the third instruction, not the first. It assumes you are already trusting and already delighting in Him.
- Roll — The word pictures a load too heavy to lift. You roll it off your shoulders onto His.
- Then keep trusting — The handover is one act; the confidence for every following step is daily.
- He acts — In His own time He clears your name. He always has the last word, if you have the faith to wait for it.
and he will bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday.
Psalm 37 speaks to people who do right while wrongdoers prosper. Verse 6 is God's promise to the one who hands his case over to Him. Two questions follow: what does that vindication look like, and how long must it wait?
Verse 6 follows a condition. It belongs to the one who rolls his way onto the Lord, and it gives more than he asked for:
Commit your way to Him as well, and difficulties will disappear before Jehovah's sufficiency. Not only will your purposes come about; He will also make your righteousness plain as the light, and your right as the noonday.
Commentators note that the psalm builds in steps, and this one comes late. You cannot roll your way onto God without first trusting Him and delighting in Him:
Committing our way to the Lord assumes, of course, that we are in the middle of trouble and testing from our enemies. Let us remember that it is not the first item of instruction, nor the second, but the third. It takes for granted that we are trusting in the Lord, and finding our delight in Him. Then, and only then, will we be ready to roll our way upon Him, and know that as a happy result, "He will bring it to pass."
The same writer adds that the state of your soul decides how this command feels:
The instruction, "Roll your way upon the Lord," is a hard saying where piety is at a low ebb. Where it is a full-flowing tide it is easy and a delightful relief.
Job is the worked example. His own friends slandered him, and for a long time he fought back:
It is His holy pleasure to bring forth a full vindication of His saints, when His work of discipline in us is complete. Oppression and slander are very hard to bear, and twice as hard when they come from friends. When his friends slandered Job he felt it deeply, but for a long time he fought for his own character instead of committing his way to the Lord. When at last he did this, God soon brought forth his righteousness as the light and his judgment as the noonday. As soon as he condemned himself and justified God, his righteousness became clear. God Himself bore witness that at last he had spoken the thing that was right. Then his judgment was as the noonday, for he was vindicated before men and blessed by God.
Since the verse says He will bring it forth, fighting your own corner works against the promise:
However right you may be, fighting for yourself will hinder the vindication the Lord can give in His own time. From the very fact of your fighting, people will never give you credit for singleness of eye. It always stirs up opposition in others. Leave it in the hands of the Lord, and He appears. He will make it clear who is on His side and who is against Him.
One writer applies this to a Christian wronged by a church decision:
The church can make mistakes, and a decision, even one taken by the majority, may be wrong (2 Cor. 2:6). He who believes he is wrongly treated should commit his way in confidence to the Lord (Ps. 37:5-6). Humility, patience and a spirit of meekness are necessary in all.
The promise runs on God's timetable, not ours:
The time for the direct display of God's government has not come. No doubt the power of evil will press down harder just before God puts it down. Even now, though, it is the time of patience, and the evil is there. Until Christ comes, it is in principle the evil day.
That is why the full brightness of verse 6 is not always seen in this life:
God's righteousness is not fully seen in this life, either in rewarding those who do good or in judging those who do evil. Job's friends were wrong to argue otherwise. Now the people of God often have to endure suffering while the wicked prosper. But in the world to come everything will be brought to a conclusion. In the light of that day God's suffering people need not be angry with their enemies. They need not take revenge, or even defend themselves. They only have to wait God's time, when all will be dealt with in perfect righteousness.
- Commit — roll your way onto God, and He settles both the matter and your good name.
- Order — trust Him, delight in Him, then commit your way. Without the first two, the third feels impossible.
- Job — he stopped defending his character and justified God. Only then did his righteousness shine out, and God vindicated him before others.
- Silence — fight your own battles and you hinder God's vindication. You also make onlookers doubt your motives.
- Daybreak — this is still the time of patience. The light and the noonday are certain, but they come in God's time.
Rest in Jehovah, and wait patiently for him fret not thyself because of him that prospereth in his way, because of the man that bringeth mischievous devices to pass.
Psalm 37 speaks to a situation every believer meets: evil succeeds, and the person who ignores God gets ahead. Verse 7 answers with three commands — be still, wait, stop fretting — and commentators read it as one step in a sequence, not stand-alone advice.
The psalm looks to a day when God will openly set the world right, and that day has not come. Verse 7 speaks into the gap.
The time when God openly displays His government has not come. No doubt evil will press harder just before God puts it down. Even now, though, it is the time of patience, and the evil is here. Until Christ comes, it is in principle the evil day... These exhortations all rest on one certainty. Jehovah is above all the evil. He loves justice. He does not forget the righteous and those who trust in Him. In the end His way will have the upper hand.
Verse 7 comes after three earlier calls in the psalm, and each one prepares for the next. The writers quote an older translation, "Rest in the Lord," where the ESV reads "Be still before the LORD."
Psalm 37 gives four conditions of soul here. Each one depends on the other; each one fits you for the next. "Trust in the Lord." "Delight yourself in the Lord." "Commit your way to the Lord." "Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him" — that is, wait until He acts for you.
Once you hand the way over, rest follows. The matter is no longer yours to carry.
We have rolled our way onto the Lord, so the responsibility and weight of it are now His. Now we rest in Him and wait for Him to act. The wicked may still appear to flourish and bring his wicked schemes to pass, but that no longer frets us. God is completely able to deal with all that, in His own time and way. We wait patiently for Him and rest in the meanwhile. The whole business is off our hands — it is His, not ours.
The margin of some Bibles renders the phrase differently, and that wording explains what the rest actually looks like in practice.
The Hebrew idiom, "Be silent to the Lord," is very expressive. It suggests that we have truly committed our way to Him, and are ready to wait patiently for Him to act. So we have nothing more to say. When faith is low we become like complaining children. We fret because others seem better off than we are, and we keep interrupting our parents with questions and complaints. We are truly happy when faith is strong. Then, as far as questions and complaints go, we are silent to the Lord.
The psalm repeats this command, and one writer sees God's care in it for a person close to giving up.
God knows where the believer is in danger of breaking down before the day of deliverance dawns. So He encourages him to be quiet and to wait... The psalm stresses the call to be patient under evil. Three times in the first eight verses we meet the words "Fret not yourself": "Fret not yourself because of evildoers" (verse 1); "fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way" (7); "Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil" (8). We are so quick to make mistakes when we judge men and things!
Their success also exposes what is in us.
It may raise our anger to see wickedness prosper. We should treat this as a test of ourselves: do we have the self-control to refrain from anger and forsake wrath (v. 8)? Fretting will not profit us; it only harms us.
Rest is not giving up. It guards the heart from a reaction that would drag it into the very evil it hates.
Resting in the Lord keeps the soul from anger and wrath when it sees the wicked succeed in getting what they want. To fret would only lead the soul into evil. In the Lord's own time the evildoers will be cut off, and those who wait upon the Lord will inherit the land.
Later in the psalm a second kind of waiting appears, and the two are not the same thing.
We are not only to wait patiently for the Lord, but also to "wait on the Lord, and keep His way." Waiting for Him means exercising trustful patience until He intervenes. Waiting on Him means maintaining that holy fellowship and communion with Him that ensures obedience to His will, while we wait for His intervention.
- Trust — stillness is step four. Trusting, delighting and committing come first, and each one fits you for the next.
- Hand over — roll your way onto Him. The weight and the responsibility become His, and the business stops being yours.
- Be silent — the Hebrew idiom means having nothing more to say, instead of interrupting God like a fretful child.
- Refuse to fret — the command comes three times in eight verses. Fretting gains nothing, and it can pull the soul into evil.
- Wait for Him — wait until He acts. In His own time He will cut off the evildoers, and those who wait will inherit the land.
Cease from anger, and forsake wrath; fret not thyself it [would be] only to do evil.
This psalm keeps returning to one warning: do not fret. Verse 8 goes further, and tells the reader what to do with anger itself. So what is wrong with being angry at evil, and what does God want us to do with the feeling instead?
One writer counts the repeats and links them to how easily we misjudge.
It is as if the psalm wants to stress the command to be patient under evil. Three times in the first eight verses we meet the words "Fret not yourself": "Fret not yourself because of evildoers" (verse 1). "Fret not yourself because of him who prospers in his way" (7). "Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil" (8). How quick we are to make mistakes in judging men and things!
One writer names what usually sits under the fretting.
It is this envy that lies at the bottom of the fretting. We are under trial, and the worker of iniquity seems to be having such an easy time. We cannot bear it! We are like a child in a nursery who pouts and frets because the other child has a bigger apple than the one he was given. And the owner of that big apple was the naughty child of the nursery! Oh, what mischief envy can work in the heart of a saint! And what misery too it can produce, and what sin!
Fretting does not stay a feeling. One writer shows where it leads, and names a case from Scripture.
Discontent is a sin that pushes us into sin. "Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil" (Ps. 37:8). The one who frets will be ready to do evil: Jonah fretting was Jonah sinning (Jonah 4:9). The devil blows the coals of passion and discontent, and then warms himself at the fire.
Refraining from anger is not pretending that wrong is not wrong. The line runs between what we see and feel, and what we nurse.
Our anger and wrath would be useless even in the day of judgment. So let us stop the one and forsake the other today. We cannot stop seeing the sorrowful doings of the workers of iniquity; to do so would only be shutting one's eyes to facts and walking in a fool's paradise. We should not stop feeling the wrongs, the oppression and the strife. That would crush all the God-given feelings and sympathies inside us, which are ours because we are born of God. But we should stop fretting, stop cultivating anger or wrath about them; for that will only land us in what is wrong ourselves.
The same writer shows how this goes wrong among God's people. The man in his example is the best taught in the room.
Things are weak, mistakes are made; errors in thought or practice creep in. Then a brother rises up; he is better taught and further-seeing than most, possibly more spiritual than anyone there. He will stand for the truth and put things right. But he does not stop being angry and does not forsake wrath, and so he cannot be patient and wait for the Lord with full confidence in Him. As a result he does not succeed in putting others right. He only puts himself wrong.
One writer gives two reasons to let the anger go. God still governs events, and wrath only makes us copy what we resent.
God's government is still at work, and the end it works toward is certain. So stop being angry and forsake wrath, whose only result is to make a person copy the evil he resents. Evildoers will be cut off at last, and the quiet waiters on Jehovah will inherit the earth (or land).
Someone will deal with the wicked. One writer says it is a mercy that it is not us.
"Evildoers shall be cut off" (v. 8). Again, "Yet a little while and the wicked shall not be" (v. 10); but the judgment that will end his career is God's act and not ours. It is a good thing indeed that it is God's act. We are far too small, too one-sided in our thinking, and too self-centred to be trusted with it. Our anger and our wrath against sin cannot carry the elevation and holiness that mark God.
- Repeated — "Fret not yourself" comes three times in the first eight verses. The call to be patient under evil is the psalm's drumbeat, not a passing remark.
- Rooted — Envy lies under the fretting. The wrongdoer looks like he is having the easier time, and we cannot bear it.
- Reproducing — Fretting is a sin that pushes us into more sin. Nursed wrath makes a person copy the very evil he resents.
- Refrained, not numbed — The verse does not tell us to stop seeing or feeling wrong. It tells us to stop nursing anger about it, which only lands us in the wrong ourselves.
- Reserved — Cutting off evildoers is God's act, not ours. That is a mercy: we are too small and too partial to be trusted with judgment.
For evil-doers shall be cut off; but those that wait on Jehovah, they shall possess the land.
This verse gives the reason behind the commands before it. Two groups are heading to opposite ends, and only one will still be standing. So how do you live now, while the wrong people seem to be winning?
Verse 9 is an argument, not a slogan. It backs up the warnings against fretting that open the psalm. One writer counts how often they repeat.
God knows where the saint is in danger of breaking down, before the day of deliverance dawns, so He encourages him to be quiet and to wait... It is as if the psalm stresses the command to be patient under evil. Three times in the first eight verses we meet the words "Fret not yourself." First comes "Fret not yourself because of evildoers" (verse 1). "Fret not yourself because of him who prospers in his way" (7). "Fret not yourself in any way to do evil" (8).
Anger at wickedness feels right. One writer warns that it turns you into the thing you resent.
The government of God is active still, and sure in the end toward which it works. So cease from anger and forsake wrath; the only result of anger is to make a man copy the evil he resents. Evildoers shall be cut off at last, and the quiet waiters upon Jehovah, these shall inherit the earth (or land).
There is a second warning for the person who is sure he is on the right side. Fretting can pull a believer into the very evil the verse condemns.
The wicked may prosper; Jehovah has His own time, a time which is always right and sets all right. He may chasten for good, or bring plans to maturity, or be patient Himself with the wicked. He may be bringing out His own glory, which is our everlasting joy. So there is no anger, no wrath, no fretting, no uneasiness. Fretting leads to doing evil, to indulging our own will in evil to meet evil. This is not the patience and faith of the saints. Evildoers shall be cut off; the saint must not be among their number.
Waiting sounds passive. One writer defines it as two things held together.
Waiting on God implies dependence and confidence — and both in such a way that we abide God's time. Dependence, because we cannot do anything without Him. We ought not to act without Him either, since what He does is the only thing the soul desires. Action without Him, even in self-defence, is only the action of our own will... But it implies confidence too, for why should we wait if God would not come in?
This is where most people in Scripture failed.
Faith can wait, and wait until God moves. It is distrust that is impatient and restless, that would take things out of God's hands and seize the desired object too soon. Look at Abraham and Sarah, distrustful and impatient, making a sad mess of things over Hagar; they could not wait for God. Look at Jacob and Rebecca, scheming, pretending, lying, deceiving; they could not wait for God. Look at Moses striking the rock and speaking rashly; he could not wait for God. Look at every man, good and bad, whose history God has given us. Most, if not all of them, broke down just here.
The word means either "land" or "earth." So who is this promise for?
We need only the eye of faith that looks beyond the present, and is content to "wait on the Lord." For in His own time He will cause those who wait on Him to "inherit the earth." Of course it is godly Israelites who are specially in mind here. Believers of the present age look forward to an inheritance in heaven instead.
Commentators differ on how far this reaches today. Some limit the promise itself to Israel, while still drawing the psalm's lessons for everyone. Others hold that God's rule over this world goes on now, though out of public view. So the waiting soul is blessed here too: "when the soul has waited on Him in patience, it has its blessing even here" (Darby).
One writer names the temper that ends in this inheritance, and points to the one who showed it in full.
Meekness ends in the inheritance (see Matt. 5:5). It appears to be that temper of soul that makes us willing to be nothing until the promised inheritance comes. The Lord Jesus fully expressed it. Though Lord of all, He was content to have nothing; and the kingdom is a reward of His meekness.
- Cause — The verse gives the reason behind "fret not." You stop fretting because God will settle the account, not because the wrong is small.
- Cost — Fretting is not harmless. Anger at evil ends up copying the evil it resents, and the psalm warns the saint not to end up among those cut off.
- Content — Waiting means dependence and confidence. I can do nothing without Him, and He will come in. Drop either half and you act for yourself.
- Company — Abraham, Sarah, Jacob and Moses all broke down at this very point. Impatience is the usual failure, not a rare one.
- Crown — The heirs are the meek, willing to be nothing until the inheritance comes. Christ was content to have nothing, and the kingdom is a reward of that meekness.
For yet a little while, and the wicked is not; and thou considerest his place, but he is not.
The psalm keeps telling the reader not to envy people who do wrong and still come out on top. Here it gives the reason: their time is short. Two questions follow. How short is "a little while"? And what happens to a man when his place is gone?
The verse gives no date. Commentators tie it to a settled confidence: God keeps the clock, and His moment is never late.
Circumstances may be in turmoil around you — violence and struggle. The soul waits for Jehovah to step in when He will. The wicked may prosper; Jehovah has His own time, a time which is always right and sets everything right. He may chasten for good. He may have plans He is bringing to maturity. He may be patient Himself with the wicked. He may have His own glory to bring out, and that glory is our everlasting joy. So there is no anger, no wrath, no fretting, no uneasiness.
The wording sounds absolute, and some press it to mean that the wicked simply stop existing. Writers who tested that argument put the verse elsewhere: God clears the earth so the righteous can hold it.
People bring in a host of passages here that have nothing to do with eternal judgment. They speak only of what the Old Testament is full of — the removal of sinners from the earth, so that the righteous may inherit it. The thirty-seventh psalm is an example of this… People quote this language again and again to prove annihilation! It is quite true that the Old Testament is full of it. It is full of the time we usually call "millennial." Then all this will come true, and the earth will be clear of the long reign of evil on it. But this language does not speak of hell or of eternal judgment.
The verse invites you to search the spot where the wicked man stood.
For it is only "a little while" until "the wicked will be no more" (v. 10). How fast and how complete that turn will be! Look then for those who once prospered so greatly, and their place will be gone. They will never get it back.
Since the wicked will not last, fretting over them is wasted effort. There is a further reason not to take the matter into our own hands.
And moreover, it is all so futile! Those who do evil are not going to last for ever, as verse 2 shows… Again, "In just a little while, the wicked will be no more" (v. 10). But the judgment that ends his career is the act of God, not an act of ours. It is a good thing that it is God's act. We are far too small, too one-sided in our thinking, and too self-centred to be trusted with it. Our anger and our wrath against sin can never have the height and holiness that mark God.
The inheritance goes to the meek. One writer defines that temper by what it is willing to go without, and points to the One who showed it perfectly.
Meekness ends in the inheritance (see Matt. 5:5). It seems to be the state of soul that makes us willing to be nothing until the promised inheritance comes. The Lord Jesus (in whom was every perfection) fully expressed it. Though Lord of all, He was content to have nothing; and the kingdom is a reward of His meekness.
Commentators are careful about who this promise is for. The strict sense belongs to a faithful group in Israel who will hold land. The comfort still reaches further.
The strict interpretation belongs to the godly remnant of Israel in the coming age. Then they will be delivered, and they will "inherit the earth" and "inherit the land and dwell in it for ever." We can gladly apply it to people like ourselves too, with the changes needed because God now deals with people in a different way. We do not look to inherit the earth or the land, but to be taken to our heavenly portion by the coming of the Lord. They will be delivered and so will we; only in different ways and with a different portion in view.
- A little while. The wicked man's success has a time limit set by God, whose moment is never late and always sets things right.
- Not annihilation. The verse pictures sinners cleared off the earth so the righteous can hold it. Writers read it of the coming age, not of eternal judgment.
- No place left. Go looking for where he stood, and the ground is empty; the reversal is swift and total.
- Not your task. The judgment that ends his career belongs to God. That is a mercy: our anger is too small and too self-centred to be trusted with it.
- The meek receive. The heir is the one willing to be nothing until the inheritance is given, as the Lord Jesus was, though He was Lord of all.
But the meek shall possess the land, and shall delight themselves in the abundance of prosperity.
Psalm 37 speaks to people who watch the wrong side win while the meek lose out. Verse 11 answers that scene with a promise that sounds impossible: who are the meek, what do they inherit, and when?
Meekness and gentleness are not the same thing. One writer separates them, and points to the person who showed meekness perfectly:
"Blessed are the meek." The meek in the Old Testament had a very prominent place. He will guide the meek in judgment, and He will teach the meek His way… There is the meekness and gentleness of Christ. Meekness of spirit produces gentleness of action and words. Gentleness shows itself in dealing tenderly and not using wrong force. The meek go further: they will not use force at all. No one was ever so unresisting as the blessed Saviour Himself… The people who own the earth now are usually great conquerors, but here it is the very opposite. Those whom men tread underfoot are the ones God says will inherit the earth, and at the right time. The great and blessed pattern is the One who, when He was insulted, did not insult in return. You cannot ignore the unrighteousness that is going on, but you can commit yourself to Him who judges righteously.
Meekness turns on one question: whose hand do you take a hard word from?
Suppose I give you a harsh word. If you take it from me, Satan instantly gets an advantage, and you are angry. If you take it directly from God, you say, "That was not very nice. It was not very Christ-like. But the Lord must have had some good reason for letting that harsh word come." What meekness that produces in the soul, when I take everything directly from the hand of God. What is it to be meek? It is a person who is willing to be trampled on, a person who takes everything so from God that the bitter thing is sweet.
The psalm tells the godly what to do while they wait:
God knows where the believer is in danger of breaking down before the day of deliverance dawns. So He encourages him to be quiet and to wait… Meanwhile the godly one is to trust in the Lord and do good. He is to delight in Him, commit his way to Him, rest in Him, and wait patiently for Him. The psalm presses the call to be patient under evil: three times in the first eight verses we meet the words "Fret not yourself" (verses 1, 7 and 8). When we judge people and things, how easily we go wrong!
The promise turns today's order upside down.
"But the meek shall inherit the land" (v. 11). Those who forced their way to the top will be brought down to the bottom. The meek never forced themselves at all, and they will receive a blessed inheritance where they "delight themselves in abundant peace." May we learn well to be "meek and lowly in heart."
Why does the world not work this way now?
At present the world is not governed by righteousness but by what is convenient. So compromise is a large part of the awards of so-called justice… At present the aggressive person or nation takes the major awards, and the meek get pushed to the wall. Yet the day is coming when "the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace."
The wait has a limit:
Patience will not be needed for long. In just a little while the wicked will pass away and the meek will be established in blessing.
Some writers quote the verse in an older wording, "inherit the earth." They also differ on how far the promise reaches. Some keep it for Israel alone:
This is promised to the godly Jews who will inherit the earth. The Church does not inherit the earth, but hers is a heavenly possession. In the Sermon on the Mount, His proclamation as King, our Lord said, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." He was quoting Psalm 37.
Others keep the promise for an earthly people and still find a share in it for believers:
This world's history has been one long struggle of ambition. What a wonderful thing it will be to have the inheritance belong at last to the meek! The promise is for an earthly people, yet we shall still enjoy it, and in a better way. "Heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ," we shall reign with Him over the earth. We have no need, therefore, to covet Israel's promises.
- Meek — unresisting: the person who will not use force at all, and takes every hard thing straight from God's hand.
- Wait — the psalm repeats one order three times in eight verses: fret not. Impatience is the temptation it sets out to defeat.
- Little while — the wait is short. The wicked pass away; the meek are established.
- Reversal — those who forced their way to the top come down. Those who never pushed receive the inheritance and abundant peace.
- Reach — commentators differ. Some keep the promise for godly Israel in the coming kingdom. Others say believers share it in a better way, reigning with Christ over the earth.
The wicked plotteth against the righteous, and gnasheth his teeth against him.
Psalm 37 keeps telling the godly not to fret over evildoers. Here it turns and shows what the evildoer is doing: plotting, and grinding his teeth in hatred — and the next verses give God's answer to it.
The psalm works by contrast, and one writer marks the shift from the psalm before it.
Psalm 36 shows us the wicked in contrast with God's character. Psalm 37 sets evildoers in contrast with the godly. The contrast has two sides. First, the present life, when the evildoers are the great majority and hold the upper hand. Second, the coming age, when God will remove evildoers in judgment and the godly will enter into the liberty of glory.
The plotting is not a response to injury. One commentator asks why, and finds the answer in the plotters themselves.
They plot against the righteous as the Pharisees plotted against the Lord Jesus (v. 12). Their hatred is so deep that it moves them to gnash their teeth. Why is this so? It is not because believers harm or threaten them. It seems perfectly clear that the godly character of believers is a testimony that grates on their consciences. They resent a testimony so unlike their own character, because it exposes them.
What does the grinding of teeth mean? One writer, commenting on the same gesture elsewhere in the Psalms, reads it as rage hitting something it cannot cross.
They gnashed their teeth — but it was useless, for God had set them their limit. (This, I think, is what the gnashing of the teeth means: a limit that galled them. They were aware of a fence they were not allowed to pass, though they could not see it, which God had put round His beloved.)
The same writer finds that limit again in this psalm, in the short section that verse 12 opens:
The second section is a short one, and it deals only with the wicked. It notes his hatred of the righteous and his plots, and still their limit. The Lord laughs at his folly and sees his end ahead. His sword, already drawn, enters his own heart. His bent bow snaps instead of firing. It illustrates the Lord's words, that those who take the sword will perish by it.
The next verse gives the Lord's reaction to the plot. It is not alarm, and it exposes our own reaction.
When we are taken up with how well the wicked are doing, we may fret and become angry and impatient. The Lord, however, laughs at the wicked who plot against the just. He sees that their day is coming, when, under God's government, the wicked will fall by the very violence they have used against the upright.
If the schemer's end is God's business, the believer no longer has to carry it. One writer draws this out of verse 7, which he quotes from an older translation.
"Rest in the Lord," or, as the margin says, "Be silent to the Lord, and wait patiently for Him." ... We have rolled our way onto the Lord, so the responsibility and weight of it are now His. Now we rest in Him and wait for Him to act. The wicked may still seem to flourish and get his wicked plans done, but that no longer frets us. God is fully able to deal with all that, in His own time and way.
Stephen, the first Christian killed for his witness, met men who gnashed their teeth at him. What the Lord gave him was not power.
It is still the day of grace; the day of judgment for the enemies of grace has not yet come. So we need, not power to crush our enemies, but grace to take our share in suffering. Stephen stood in front of enemies who gnashed their teeth at him and stoned him, and he looked steadily up into heaven to "Jesus standing at the right hand of God." Jesus is Lord in the place of supreme power, but He does not usually act in power to crush the enemies of His servants, and He did not give Stephen power to crush his. He gave grace, so that Stephen was so strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus that he could take his share in suffering. As a good soldier of Jesus Christ, he did not threaten or insult his persecutors. Instead he prayed for them and committed his spirit to the Lord.
- Hatred. The plotting has no cause in the righteous man. The godly life itself grates on the conscience of those it exposes.
- Limit. Gnashing teeth is the noise of rage meeting a fence — God sets the enemy a boundary he cannot cross.
- Laughter. Where we fret, the Lord laughs. He already sees the day of the man who plots.
- Recoil. The drawn sword enters its owner's heart and the bent bow snaps — those who take the sword perish by it.
- Rest. Roll the weight onto the Lord and wait; grace to suffer well, as Stephen did, is what He gives now.
The Lord laugheth at him; for he seeth that his day is coming.
Psalm 37 speaks to people who watch evil succeed and wonder whether God has noticed. Verse 13 answers that worry with a startling picture. The plotting of the wicked does not trouble God, because He already sees the day it will collapse.
Verses 12 to 15 form a short unit about one subject — the wicked man and how God regards him. One writer sets the Lord's laughter against our fretting:
Verses 12 to 15 present the Lord's attitude toward the wicked. When we are taken up with how well the wicked are doing, we may fret and become angry and impatient. The Lord, however, derides the wicked who plot against the just. He sees that their day is coming. Under the government of God, the wicked will fall by the very violence they used against the upright.
The plot, the drawn sword and the bent bow all turn back on the man who prepared them:
The psalm notes his enmity against the righteous and his plots, and it notes that they still have a limit. The Lord derides his folly, and foresees his end. His sword, already drawn, enters his own heart. His bent bow snaps instead of firing. It shows the truth of the Lord's words, that all who take the sword will perish by the sword. It is a clear example of divine government.
One writer counts how often Scripture pictures God laughing, and shows what kind of downfall it points to:
The Scriptures do not often represent God as laughing. Three times in the Psalms they do so, and once in Proverbs, and in each case the same thing is in view. If men refuse His mercy, if they mistreat His people, if they deny Him and His Anointed and mock His authority and His Word, God will judge them in due season. And He will not only judge them. He will cast them down in a way that makes them look utterly ridiculous, a laughing-stock to every created being. The "laugh" will be on God's side in that day.
The verse points to a day that is coming, not one that has arrived. One writer answers the impatience that this delay can stir up:
God intends to settle His accounts with the ungodly in His own time and His own way. He has unlimited time to do it. He is in no hurry, and He will do it in an hour of all hours most inconvenient for them.
Verse 12 shows the wicked man grinding his teeth at the righteous. One writer asks what provokes that hatred:
They plot against the righteous as the Pharisees plotted against the Lord Jesus (v. 12). Their hatred is so deep that it moves them to gnash their teeth. Why is this so? It is certainly not because they are harmed or threatened by believers. Rather, it seems perfectly clear that the godly character of believers is a testimony that grates on their consciences. They resent a testimony so unlike their own character, because it exposes them.
If God laughs, the believer can stop trying to settle the score. The reason given is not only that we lack the right, but that we lack the character:
The judgment which will end his career is the act of God and not an act of ours. It is a good thing that it is His act. We are far too small, too biased in our thoughts, and too self-centred for God to trust us with it. Our anger and our wrath against sin can never have the high and holy character that belongs to God.
Commentators read this psalm first as instruction for God's faithful people in a coming time of pressure, when evil openly runs the world; the same principles still hold for believers now. Waiting is presented as the surest proof of trust:
Patient waiting for Jehovah in heart and desire is the surest mark of trust. Circumstances may be in turmoil around us — violence and struggle. The soul waits for Jehovah's coming in when He will. The wicked may prosper; Jehovah has His own time, a time which is always right and sets all right. He may chasten for good. He may have plans He is bringing to maturity. He may be patient Himself with the wicked. He may have His own glory to bring out, and that glory is our everlasting joy. So there is no anger, no wrath, no fretting, no uneasiness. Fretting leads to doing evil, to indulging our own will in evil to meet evil.
- Seen — God notices every plot against the righteous; the enmity is real, but He sets its limit.
- Laughed at — His laughter is His verdict on the folly of it: the drawn sword ends in the plotter's own heart.
- Dated — His day is already fixed and already in God's sight; He is in no hurry, because He has settled the outcome.
- Released — Since the sentence is His act and not ours, fretting, anger and revenge lose their reason.
- Rested — Waiting on the Lord is trust at its surest: no anger, no wrath, no fretting while His time comes.
The wicked have drawn out the sword, and have bent their bow, to cast down the afflicted and needy, to slay those that are upright in [the] way
Just before this verse, the wicked plot against the righteous and grind their teeth. Now the plotting turns into weapons. Two questions press. Why do the wicked hate people who have done them no harm? And what does God do while they draw the bow?
The whole psalm sets one group against another. That contrast runs in two time frames.
If Psalm 36 shows us the wicked set against God's character, Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two parts. First, the present life, when the evildoers are the large majority and have the upper hand. Second, the coming age, when God will remove evildoers in judgment and the godly will enter the liberty of glory.
The last phrase names the victims by their way, not by their words. A dictionary of Bible words explains what that covers.
In the Bible this word never means everyday talk. In the Old Testament it appears in Psalm 37:14 and Psalm 50:23, and it refers to the walk. The margin reads "the upright of way," "that arranges his way."
Nothing in the verse suggests the poor and needy provoked the attack. Commentators trace the hatred to the effect a godly life has on a guilty conscience.
They plot against the righteous as the Pharisees plotted against the Lord Jesus (v. 12). Their hatred is so deep that it moves them to gnash their teeth. Why is this so? It is not because believers harm them or threaten them. The reason seems clear. The godly character of believers is a testimony that grates on their consciences. They resent a testimony so unlike their own character, because it shows them up.
The bow adds something the sword does not: distance. It can also fail the man who leans on it.
The common weapon for shooting arrows. Scripture uses it as a picture of the hidden attacks of the wicked against the righteous, Psalm 11:2; Psalm 37:14-15. A "bow of steel" means great strength, Job 20:24. The wicked are like a "deceitful bow," one that breaks when someone leans on it, Psalm 78:57; Hosea 7:16.
The next verse answers this one. God does not take the weapon away. He lets it turn back on the man who holds it.
This section deals only with the wicked man. It notes his hatred of the righteous, his plots, and the limit still set to them. The Lord laughs at his folly and sees his end. His sword, already drawn, enters his own heart. His bent bow snaps instead of firing. This illustrates the Lord's words, that those who take the sword will perish by it, and it is a telling example of God's government.
So what should someone facing a drawn sword do? The psalm answers with rest, and it gives a reason.
For the moment the wicked man does well in his way. Instead of growing impatient, let the soul rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him. Resting in the Lord keeps the soul from anger and rage when it sees the wicked getting everything they want. To fret would only lead the soul into evil.
Refusing to fret is not the same as refusing to feel.
We cannot stop seeing the sad deeds of those who work evil. To stop would mean shutting our eyes to facts and living in a fool's paradise. We should not stop feeling the wrongs, the oppression and the strife. That would crush all the God-given feeling and sympathy inside us, which is ours because we are born of God. But we should stop fretting, and stop nursing anger or rage about them. That will only land us in the wrong ourselves.
Commentators read the psalm as belonging first to a faithful group in Israel in a coming age. It still speaks to believers now.
The strict interpretation belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and the coming age. God will deliver them, and they will "inherit the earth," they will "inherit the land and dwell in it forever." But we can gladly apply it to ourselves too, with the changes that the shift from one age to another requires.
- Cause. The sword is drawn against people who have provoked no one. A godly life exposes a guilty conscience, and the wicked resent it.
- Target. The victims are named by their walk, "the upright of way." The attack falls on how they live.
- Method. The verse names two weapons. The bow pictures the hidden attacks the righteous never see coming.
- Reversal. God does not take the weapon away. He lets it turn. The drawn sword finds its owner's heart, and the bent bow snaps before it fires.
- Response. Judgment is God's work, not ours. So the godly keep feeling the wrong, but refuse to fret over it. Fretting only puts them in the wrong too.
their sword shall enter into their own heart, and their bows shall be broken.
In the verse before, the wicked already hold their weapons. The sword is drawn and the bow is bent, aimed at the poor and the upright. This verse says where those weapons land. It also answers the question of every oppressed person: who settles the account, and when?
The attack never reaches its target. One writer follows both weapons and names the principle at work:
This short section deals only with the wicked man. It notes his hatred of the righteous and his plots, which still have their limit. The Lord laughs at his folly and sees his end. His sword, already drawn, enters his own heart. His bent bow snaps instead of firing its arrow. This illustrates the Lord's words, that those who take the sword will perish with it. It is, of course, a telling example of God's government.
In Scripture the bow carries two meanings — how the wicked attack, and how they fail:
The common weapon for discharging arrows. It stands for the hidden attacks of the wicked against the righteous. Ps. 11:2; Ps. 37:14-15. A "bow of steel" signifies great strength. Job 20:24. The wicked are like a "deceitful bow," one that breaks when someone leans on it. Ps. 78:57; Hosea 7:16.
So the snapping bow shows what the wicked man is: what he leaned on gives way at the moment he needs it.
The weapons do not misfire by accident. One commentator reads verses 12 to 15 together and names the hand that turns them back:
But the Lord laughs at the folly of such people, for He knows that a day of retribution is coming (v. 13). They may be fearful of the future, but they choose to ignore it anyway. They draw their sword, sure of victory, or they bend their bow. But God will turn their sword against themselves, to pierce their own hearts, and their bows will snap in their hands. So the pride of man defeats his own ends!
If the end of the wicked is certain, the obvious temptation is to help it along. One commentator explains why God keeps that work out of our hands:
And moreover, it is all so futile! The workers of iniquity are not going to continue for ever, as verse 2 shows. Later verses make this abundantly clear. "The evildoers shall be cut off" (v. 9). Again, "In just a little while, the wicked will be no more" (v. 10). But the judgment that ends his career is God's act, not ours. It is well indeed that it is an act of God, for we are far too small, too partial in our thoughts, and too self-centred to be entrusted with it. Our anger and our wrath against sin cannot have the elevation and holiness that mark God.
This principle is not aimed only at persecutors. It catches anyone who picks up the same weapon:
Anyone who uses oppressing power will be oppressed. The Lord will judge it, wherever it is found: "whoever kills with the sword will be killed with the sword." God's people are called to suffer, to endure evil while it continues, as long as God allows it and gives it power. If they take up its principles and avenge themselves here, they must suffer its consequences here: "all who take the sword will perish by the sword." Patient suffering is their place, as it was Christ's.
The psalm speaks first to a people surrounded by evil. One commentator gives their setting and the instruction they were given:
The Psalm applies to the faithful few of Israel in the last days. The calls in verses 1, 7 and 8 encourage that feeble few, who will be surrounded by evil of every kind in Israel's time of trouble. To the outward eye the wicked and the persecutors are prospering. They work out their own will, and nothing stops them. The temptation would be to flee. But the Spirit of God says, "Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land, and feed on faithfulness" — on God's faithfulness, in the assurance that He would not forget His tried and oppressed people; and that He would in His own time deal with their oppressors. (See vv. 12-15, 17-22.)
- Drawn. The sword is out and the bow is bent. The danger is real, and it is aimed at the poor and the upright.
- Turned. God turns that sword back into the heart that planned it. The bow snaps in the hands that bent it, and the proud man's plan destroys the planner.
- Broken. The wicked are a "deceitful bow" — a weapon that fails at the moment they lean on it. Their strength is the thing that lets them down.
- Reserved. The judgment is God's act, not ours. We are too small, too partial and too self-centred to handle it.
- Waited for. The same rule falls on believers who avenge themselves. So our place is patient suffering, trusting God to deal with the oppressors in His own time.
The little that the righteous hath is better than the abundance of many wicked;
Psalm 37 sets two lives side by side: the righteous person who often owns very little, and many wicked people whose wealth everyone can see. Verse 16 weighs the two, calls the small portion the better one, and the rest of the psalm says why.
The verse weighs one man's little against the wealth of many wicked. One writer sets that count inside the two-sided comparison the whole psalm runs on.
Psalm 36 shows us the wicked set against God's character. Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two sides. First, in this present life, evildoers are the great majority and they hold the upper hand. Second, in the coming age, God will remove evildoers in judgment, and the godly will enter the liberty of glory. In this present age the godly are often oppressed and always under some measure of trouble. So they need God to teach them how to walk through it, and in what spirit to meet it.
The word "little" tells us how the portion looks, not what it is worth. One writer weighs the two portions by how long each one lasts. He then reads on into the next verse, where the wicked man's arms are broken.
What looks to the wicked like only a little in the hands of the righteous is in fact far more than the abundance the wicked gather in their lifetime (v. 16). What the righteous has is eternal, but the wicked man loses all he has gained in his life. The picture is that his arms will be broken: his ability to use his arms to get what he wants will fail him completely (v. 17). But the righteous man trusts in the Lord, not in the strength of his own arms, so the Lord will uphold him.
Why is the little better? One writer names who stands behind it, and what waits at the end of the road.
The little of the righteous is better than the abundance of the wicked, because with that little comes the support of the Lord — He "upholds the righteous." The Lord knows their days, and has secured an eternal inheritance for them. On the way to that inheritance they may have to pass through times of trial and days of famine. Even so, they will not be put to shame or left in need. The wicked will perish and waste away.
Another writer puts the same difference in terms of time, and adds what happens to the two portions at the end.
If the righteous have but little, it is better than the abundance of many wicked: one is for a time, the other has the enduring support of Jehovah.
Many readers assume that in the Old Testament wealth always showed God's favour. This verse is one reason that assumption fails.
Sometimes in Old Testament days riches were evidence of God's blessing, as with Job. But it was not always so. Righteous men might have little of this world's goods, and wicked men might have riches (Ps. 37:16)… Only the riches that come from God — spiritual riches — last. Material riches can easily fly away. If they are not taken from us in life, death takes us from them. How blessed we are if we secure the divine riches that endure.
If the little is better, how do you live on it? One writer does the sum, and finds that the man with more also carries more.
If what you own is small, God can still bless a little. It is not how much money we have, but how much blessing… Another man may have more property than you, but more worry; more riches, less rest; more income, but more calls on it; he has a greater inheritance, yet perhaps God does not give him "power to enjoy them" (Ecc. 6:2). He holds more, but enjoys less. In short, you have less gold than he does, and perhaps less guilt.
- Little. The righteous man's portion looks small by the world's measure. But what he has is eternal, while the wicked man loses in death all he gathered in life.
- Upheld. The little is better because of what comes with it. The Lord upholds the man who trusts Him, knows his days, and has secured an eternal inheritance for him.
- Enduring. The wicked man's abundance lasts only as long as his life; the righteous man's inheritance is secured for ever.
- Blessed. Riches were never a fixed sign of God's approval; the real question is not how much money we have, but how much blessing.
- Ended. The coming age settles the contrast: God removes the evildoers in judgment, and the godly enter the liberty of glory.
for the arms of the wicked shall be broken, but Jehovah upholdeth the righteous.
Psalm 37 puts two kinds of strength side by side. One is the strength of people who do evil and seem to win. The other is the support God gives to those who trust Him. This verse says which of the two will last.
The verse starts with a part of the body. A dictionary entry explains what the arm stands for:
The part of the body that can lift burdens and defend the person. It stands as a picture of the power and strength of God on behalf of His saints... The arm of the Lord is often spoken of in the Old Testament. It redeemed His people, gathers His own, and rules for Him.
The same picture runs through both halves of the verse. The strength of the wicked snaps. The strength holding up the righteous is God's own. So the breaking is not about injury to the body. The wicked man loses his whole power to get and to keep, while the righteous leans on a strength that was never his:
What looks to the wicked like only a little in the hands of the righteous is in reality much more than all the wealth the wicked gather in their lifetime (v. 16). What the righteous has is eternal, but the wicked loses everything he has gained in his life. The breaking of his arms is a figure of speech. It means his ability to use his arms to get what he wants will fail him entirely (v. 17). But the righteous trusts in the Lord, not in the strength of his own arms, so the Lord will uphold him.
The verse opens with "For." It gives the reason behind verse 16, where the righteous has only a little. What makes that little worth more is not its size but who stands behind it:
These verses show the Lord's attitude towards the godly. The little of the righteous is better than the abundance of the wicked. With that little comes the support of the Lord — He "upholds the righteous." The Lord knows their days, and has secured an eternal inheritance for them. On the way to that inheritance they may have to pass through times of trial and days of famine. Even so, they will never be put to shame or left in want.
Notice what this support does not promise. It is not a life free of hunger or hardship. It is a grip that does not let go, a Lord who knows their days, and an inheritance already secured.
The verse says the arms shall be broken. It does not tell anyone to break them. That matters, because our instinct is to settle injustice ourselves:
The judgment that will end his career is God's act, not ours. It is good that it is God's act. We are far too small, too biased in our thoughts, and too self-centred for God to trust us with it. Our anger and our wrath against sin never have the height and holiness that mark God.
The problem with the promise is timing. The arms of the wicked look strong today. One writer explains what God is doing while the world waits:
The time when God displays His government openly has not come. No doubt evil will press harder than ever just before God puts it down. Still, even now this is the time of patience, and the evil is there. Until Christ comes it is, in principle, the evil day, and patience and the kingdom of Jesus Christ go together in the heart... These exhortations all rest on the certainty that Jehovah is above all the evil. He loves judgment, He does not forget the righteous and those who trust in Him, and in the end His way will have the upper hand.
One writer aims the psalm first at a coming deliverance for God's faithful people in Israel. He then applies it to readers today:
The strict meaning belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and the coming age, when God will deliver them... We may still apply it to ourselves, with the changes and adjustments needed because God now deals with us in a different way. We do not look to inherit the earth or the land. We look for the Lord to come and bring us to our heavenly portion. They will be delivered and so shall we; only in different ways and with a different portion in view.
- Arms — the word stands for the power to lift and to defend; the strength a person relies on to get what he wants.
- Broken — that strength fails, and everything it gained is lost inside the same lifetime.
- Upheld — the righteous has little, but that little carries the Lord's support and an inheritance that lasts.
- Not ours — the breaking is God's act, and that is a mercy. Our anger against sin lacks His holiness.
- Meanwhile — this is the time of patience. God stands above the evil, and He does not forget those who trust Him.
Jehovah knoweth the days of the perfect; and their inheritance shall be for ever
This psalm speaks to people who watch wrongdoers do well. Verse 18 answers them with two facts: God keeps count of the days of His own, and their inheritance has no end.
The first half of the verse is about God's attention to ordinary time. Where the ESV says "the blameless," older translations say "the upright" or "the perfect." One commentator reads the verse as an invitation to hand over each day as it comes:
"The Lord knows the days of the upright" (v. 18), that is, He takes account of every day, so that the upright may have perfect peace in entrusting each day to Him. In fact, "their inheritance shall be forever": the accumulation of days will only add up to an eternity of blessing.
The Psalms also speak of God knowing "the way of the righteous." One writer draws out how much that knowing holds:
In this the Lord finally shows Himself, from under the clouds and darkness that so often now surround Him. What He approves abides; His seal upon it will never be broken. And so He "knows" the way of the righteous — knows it well as what is His own: it is the way in which He too walks, and in which we find fellowship with Him.
Just before this verse, the psalm weighs a little held by the righteous against the wealth of many wicked. What makes the little better?
(vv. 16–20) The following verses present the Lord's attitude towards the godly. The little of the righteous is better than the abundance of the wicked, for with that little there is the support of the Lord — He "upholds the righteous." The Lord knows their days, and has secured an eternal inheritance for them.
Knowing the days does not make the days easy. The next verses name the hard times, and the same section ends with the opposite outcome for the wicked:
The Lord marks and knows the days of the perfect, and even in the evil time they will not be ashamed, and in famine they will be satisfied. As for the wicked… they waste away like animals devoted to destruction, consumed by the fire of wrath and not accepted.
The psalm sets two timetables side by side. One writer shows where they meet:
The psalmist would have the righteous take heart, though their present griefs may be many and varied. Their end shall be peace, when the wicked are cut off; their inheritance shall come and last forever, when the day (that is, the judgment) of the ungodly shall come (vv. 13, 18).
Who does this promise belong to first? One writer answers plainly, and marks a different hope for readers today:
Trouble is the certain and common lot of God's people in the present age. So we may read Psalm 37 with much profit, and find that it applies very closely to us. The strict interpretation belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and the coming age. Then they will be delivered and will "inherit the earth"; they will "inherit the land and dwell in it forever." We may, however, happily apply it to people like ourselves, but only with the changes and adaptations that the change of dispensation requires. We do not look to inherit the earth or the land, but to be taken to our heavenly portion at the coming of the Lord. They will be delivered, and so shall we — only in different ways and with a different portion in view.
- Known — the Lord takes account of every day of the upright, so you can hand each day over to Him without worry.
- Owned — His "knowing" is approval, not just watching. What He approves lasts, and His seal on it never breaks.
- Upheld — a little is worth more than the wealth of many wicked, because the Lord Himself upholds the righteous.
- Satisfied — evil times and famine are inside the promise, not outside it: no shame, no lack.
- Forever — the inheritance still stands when the day of judgment comes for the wicked. For Israel's faithful it is the land; for readers today, a heavenly portion at the Lord's coming.
they shall not be ashamed in the time of evil, and in the days of famine they shall be satisfied.
Psalm 37 sets the godly beside those who do evil. This verse answers the fear that rises when a believer watches wrongdoers thrive: hard times come to everyone, so what happens to the godly then?
The whole psalm runs on one comparison. This verse stands on the side that looks weakest right now.
If Psalm 36 gives us the wicked set against God's character, Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two parts. First, in the present life, when the evildoers are the great majority and hold the upper hand. Second, in the coming age, when God will remove the evildoers in judgment and the godly will enter the liberty of glory.
Evil looked like the winning side, and the pull was to run rather than stay.
This Psalm applies to the remnant in the last days... On the surface the wicked and the persecutors are prospering, and they work out their own will with nothing to stop them. So the temptation would be to run, to look for a refuge outside the borders of the land where evil appeared to be winning. No, says the Spirit of God: trust in the Lord, do good, stay in the land, and feed on His faithfulness, sure that He will not forget His tried and oppressed people.
The word is not about embarrassment. It describes someone whose expectation collapses and who is left with nothing.
On the way to the inheritance they may have to pass through times of trial and days of famine. Even so, they will not be let down and left in need.
This verse leans on the line before it. There the Lord knows the days of the blameless, and their heritage remains forever.
The Lord knows the days of the upright (v. 18). That is, He takes account of every day, so the upright can have perfect peace as they entrust each day to Him. In fact, their inheritance lasts forever. All those days will only add up to an eternity of blessing. So, in the time of evil they will not be put to shame (v. 19). Such times will not be few, but how can they ever affect one whose inheritance is eternal? Even in days of famine they will not go without; they find calm satisfaction.
What the righteous have may be small. The difference is not the amount but what stands behind it.
If the righteous have only a little, it is better than the abundance of many wicked. One lasts for a time; the other has the enduring support of the Lord.
Scarcity is not a force running loose. One writer applies this to rising prices and shortages.
Whatever the scarcity, however high the prices of life's chief necessities may soar, God has fixed a limit to those prices. He is the "faithful Creator," the loving Father of His children, the watchful guardian and provider of His own. He has settled it all beforehand. He can say to rising prices what He says to the wild raging waves of the sea: "This far shall you come and no further!"... Famine and want cannot proceed beyond the bounds set for them by the decrees of the Almighty.
Not every famine shows up as an empty cupboard.
It is a grand thing when everything else collapses and the soul finds God to be its one necessity. We can reason this out at any time, but to have learned it by experience is quite another matter. So days of famine come to us that may not look like famine at all. The food may be there that does not feed us; the sun may shine as of old, but it does not warm us: the change is in ourselves.
The psalm speaks first to a faithful few in Israel in a coming day. That does not shut today's reader out.
Trouble is the certain and common lot of the saints of God in the present age... So we can read Psalm 37 with much profit, and find that it applies very closely to us. Its strict meaning belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and the coming age... We can gladly apply it to people like ourselves as well, making only the changes that a different age calls for.
- Known — God takes account of every single day of the upright, so they can hand each day back to Him without worry.
- Kept — not put to shame means not let down and left in need; they go through the trial, they do not skip it.
- Upheld — a little with the Lord's enduring support outweighs abundance that only lasts for a time.
- Bounded — scarcity runs only as far as God permits; He, not the market, fixes the limit on what His own must face.
- Satisfied — the deepest famine may be inward, and it ends when the soul finds God Himself to be its one necessity.
For the wicked shall perish, and the enemies of Jehovah shall be as the fat of lambs they shall consume, like smoke shall they consume away.
Psalm 37 sets two futures side by side, and verse 20 paints one of them: the people who look most secure are already burning down. The images — perishing, sacrificial fat, smoke — press one question on anyone who envies a successful wrongdoer: how long does it last?
The verse belongs to a psalm that sets one kind of person against another, and one age against another.
If Psalm 36 shows the wicked against the background of God's character, Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two sides. First, the present life, when the evildoers are the great majority and hold the upper hand. Second, the age to come, when evildoers are removed in judgment and the godly enter the freedom of glory.
The psalm has a use for the reader who watches wrongdoers thrive.
Here we see how good it is to trust the moral government of God. That trust frees us from fretting just as much as from envy. This government is still to be displayed in "the land" as nowhere else. But its principles are always true, though for the Christian today in a less visible way.
The verse compares the enemies of the Lord to grass in open meadow at its brightest.
In contrast, the wicked will perish (v. 20). Their apparent prosperity lasts only a moment. Every enemy of the Lord will find this true. They are like the bright splendour of grass in the meadows: it withers fast, dries into fuel for the fire, and vanishes in smoke.
Older translations read "the fat of lambs" where the ESV has "the glory of the pastures" — the language of the altar. One writer takes that reading as a grim reversal.
As for the wicked, they would not be consecrated to the Lord in life, so they are consecrated to Him in their death. They waste away like animals devoted to destruction, burned up by the fire of wrath and not accepted.
Another writer sets the same image beside what happens to God's pardoned people.
If His pardoned people are accepted in the Beloved who presents them, the enemies of the Lord will also be as the fat of lambs. God's will must be carried out in the saved and in the lost alike, and the One who carries it out, in grace or in judgment, is the Son. A fragrance of Christ rises to God even from that fire which is never quenched. The light that gladdens the heavenly Jerusalem is also the flame that consumes His enemies in the day of wrath.
The psalm says what will happen to the wicked; it never hands the reader the match.
"Evildoers shall be cut off" (ver. 8). Again, "Yet a little while and the wicked shall not be" (ver. 10); but the judgment that ends his career is God's act, not ours. It is good that it is God's act, for we are far too small, too biased in our thinking and too self-centred to be trusted with it. Our anger against sin can never have the height and holiness that mark God.
Commentators differ on how far this verse reaches. One lists it with texts about the wicked being consumed or cut off, and denies that any of them settles what happens at the final judgment.
"They shall be consumed" (Ps. 37:20); "they shall be cut off" (Ps. 37:38) … not one of these can be shown to apply to the final judgment of the wicked.
- Contrast. Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly twice. Now, wrongdoers are the majority and on top. Later, they are removed and the godly enter glory.
- Fuel. Their prosperity is one moment of bright meadow grass. It withers, dries into fuel, and goes up in smoke.
- Reversal. The altar words cut the other way. Those who refused to be consecrated to the Lord in life are consumed in death, like animals devoted to destruction, burned by wrath and not accepted.
- Savour. Another reading finds a fragrance of Christ rising to God from that same fire. The light that gladdens the heavenly city is the flame that consumes His enemies.
- Wait. The ending belongs to God, not to us. Our anger could never carry the holiness of His judgment. So the verse cures envy and fretting instead of feeding revenge.
The wicked borroweth, and payeth not again; but the righteous is gracious and giveth
Psalm 37 sets the godly and the evildoers side by side, and at verse 21 the contrast turns to money: one man takes what is not his and never pays it back, the other keeps giving his away. Why do the two live so differently, and what does that say about the God each one resembles?
Verse 21 is one panel in a comparison that runs through the whole psalm, and that comparison covers two different ages.
Psalm 36 sets the wicked against God's character. Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two sides. First, the present life, when evildoers are the great majority and hold the upper hand. Second, the coming age, when God will remove evildoers in judgment and the godly will enter the freedom of glory.
The verse describes not two incidents but two ongoing patterns of life. One translation puts both as actions still in progress:
A wicked man is borrowing, and he will not repay, but a righteous man is showing mercy and giving.
Not repaying is no small slip. One writer gives it a blunt name, and points to what makes the giver so free:
Simply borrowing and not repaying is wickedness (v. 21) — and how many are guilty of this! But the righteous man shows mercy. He does not only lend; he gives. He can well afford it, because he has an eternal inheritance.
Commentators differ on what drives the non-payment. Some read it as inability — the wicked man cannot repay because God's curse has stripped him. One writer rejects that reading outright:
First, the generosity and grace of the righteous stand against the greed and injustice of the wicked… Some say the wicked man fails to repay because he is poor, and poor under the curse of God, while the righteous man gives because he already owns the earth. That turns the facts of the psalm completely upside down. It also makes an excuse for the "wicked" — a reading with nothing to commend it.
Why is mercy and giving the mark of a righteous person? Because that is how God Himself treats people who never thank Him:
He treats everyone alike in these gifts. The evil despise His benefits and the unjust give Him no thanks, yet His sun rises and His rain falls on the most unworthy… "The wicked borrows and does not pay back, but the righteous is generous and gives." That fits beautifully with the God who is rich in mercy, who showed us that mercy by making us alive when we were dead in our sins.
In Christ this giving went furthest of all:
He who was rich became poor for our sakes, so that through His poverty we might become rich. He poured all His heavenly riches into our penniless stores, to pay our debts.
The verse condemns the man who does not pay, not the act of borrowing:
The first sentence does not mean that it is wrong to borrow money. The question is about paying. If a debt is due it should be paid exactly on time. Borrowing money recklessly, with no prospect of paying it back, is sinful. It has often brought great dishonor on the name of our Lord.
Unpaid debt is not a small private matter, and one writer refuses to soften it:
It is painful beyond words to see how little conscience many professing Christians have about debt. We earnestly call on all who are in the habit of going into debt to judge themselves in this matter and get out of a false position at once. It is far better to sit down to a dry crust and wear a shabby coat than to live well and dress well at our neighbor's expense. We regard it as downright unrighteousness.
The same care shapes how we help others in debt. Help given at the wrong moment can keep a person on a wrong path:
Suppose I help a believer, and by doing so I encourage him to start a business without the money to run it. Then I am only encouraging him along a path that dishonours the Lord — a path the Lord will never walk with me.
- Two ledgers. The psalm contrasts evildoers with the godly. Today the wicked seem to be winning. In the coming age God removes them.
- Taking. Not repaying is not bad luck. Scripture calls it wickedness, and one writer refuses to excuse the wicked man by blaming his poverty.
- Giving. The righteous man does more than lend. He gives, and he can afford it: he already holds an eternal inheritance.
- Likeness. That giving matches God Himself. He sends sun and rain on the unthankful, and in Christ He became poor to pay debts that were not His.
- Paying. Scripture does not forbid borrowing; it forbids not paying. Unpaid debt is downright unrighteousness, and real help never props up the habit.
for those blessed of him shall possess the land, and they that are cursed of him shall be cut off.
Psalm 37 speaks to people who watch wrongdoers prosper while the godly suffer. Verse 22 gives the reason the outcome will reverse: a blessing and a curse from the Lord decide who holds the land at the end. So who are these blessed ones? What land do they receive? And what does the promise mean for readers who are not Israel?
Verse 22 begins with "for," tying it to the picture just before it of a man who borrows and does not pay back. One writer reads that link as a contrast between two kinds of people, not an excuse for the one who fails to repay — and he admits others read it differently.
First, the bounty and grace of the righteous is contrasted with the greed and injustice of the wicked. But those blessed by Jehovah are the ones who will in due time possess the land. The wicked, grasp as he may, shall be cut off under His curse. This seems to me the plain meaning of the verse, though I may be alone in thinking so. Some read it differently: the wicked man fails to repay because he is poor, and poor under the curse of God, while the righteous gives because he already owns the earth. That reading turns the facts of the psalm upside down. It also defends the "wicked" in a way I cannot approve.
The generosity of the righteous is not reckless. It rests on something already guaranteed to him.
The simple fact of borrowing and not repaying is wickedness (v. 21), but how many are guilty of this! The righteous, though, show mercy — not only lending but giving. He can well afford to do this since he has an eternal inheritance. Those whom God blesses shall inherit the earth — that is, the godly of Israel. Others, whom God justly curses, will be cast off (v. 22).
The commentators move between "land" and "earth" here, because the Hebrew word erets carries both senses. One writer traces how the promise widens: Israel's land is where the blessing starts, and from there it spreads.
Its direct application is to the land as the inheritance of blessing (see verses 3, 9, 11, 22, 27, 34). But it then applies to the earth as well, because it is the time when all things are restored. The word erets now reaches over the face of the whole earth, and the land is the seat from which the blessing flows.
Earlier verses in the psalm describe the same people in other words. One writer lines those descriptions up beside verse 22.
The wicked may prosper, but Jehovah has His own time, a time which is always right and sets everything right. Evildoers shall be cut off, and the believer must not be among them. Those who wait on Jehovah shall inherit the earth. The same is said of the meek, and of those blessed by Jehovah. This is Jewish, without question. But, as we have seen, God still governs, though not in open display. And when the soul has waited on Him in patience, it has its blessing even here.
So "blessed by the LORD" marks the patient, not the successful. It names those who wait on Him while the wicked still prosper.
Christians can read this psalm with real profit. Still, one writer separates what belongs to Israel from what carries over to us.
The strict interpretation belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and the coming age. Then God will deliver them, and they shall "inherit the earth" and "inherit the land and dwell in it forever." We may still apply it gladly to people like ourselves, with the alterations and adaptations that the change of dispensation requires. We do not look to inherit the earth or the land, but to be taken to our heavenly portion by the coming of the Lord. They will be delivered and so shall we; only in different ways and with a different portion in view.
- Blessed by Him — the verse traces the whole outcome back to God: one group is blessed by the Lord, the other cursed by Him. Nothing here rests on human strength or success.
- Blessed waiting — the psalm calls the same people those who wait on the Lord, and the meek. Blessing looks like patience now, not visible advantage.
- Blessed giving — the righteous has a certain inheritance, so he can give instead of grasp. The wicked borrows and never repays.
- Blessed land — the blessing settles first on Israel's land. From there it spreads over the whole earth when all things are restored.
- Blessed portion — Israel's godly remnant will inherit the land and live in it. Christians look for a heavenly portion when the Lord comes. God delivers both, in different ways.
The steps of a man are established by Jehovah, and he delighteth in his way
Psalm 37 faces a hard question. If God governs the world, why do the wicked appear to run it? Verse 23 gives part of the answer. God's public rule is still future, but He is already ordering the steps of a man He calls good.
This psalm speaks into a time when evil still has its way.
Psalm 37 is closely connected with the display of God's direct government in this world. He will make that good when the meek inherit the land and the wicked are cut off... God has not yet displayed that government openly. No doubt evil will press harder just before He puts it down. Even now, though, it is the time of patience, and the evil is there.
Scripture elsewhere denies that anyone is good, so the phrase needs care.
Though Romans 3:12 tells us, "no one does good, not even one," here in Psalm 37:23 we read that the steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord. Romans states that no one can be called good in an absolute sense. This psalm looks at those who are comparatively good — those who seek to honour the Lord in their ways. When this is so, the Lord will order their steps and protect them from harm. Such a person will delight in the Lord's way.
Older versions read "ordered of the Lord" where the ESV says "established." The word behind "man" carries the idea of strength.
Next we have the steps of a man. The word used (gebher, as in Psalm 34:8) implies strength. His firm and prosperous steps are "established of Jehovah." They get their strength from Him. "And He delights in his way" — a way so blessed and strengthened. So if such a man falls, he will not be completely cast down. Jehovah holds up the hand that he lifts to Him.
Commentators differ over whose delight the second half of the verse means. Some read it as God delighting in the man's way. Others read it as the man delighting in the Lord's way.
The value of this promise grows as the road gets harder.
In this wilderness, in the middle of confusion and wickedness, there is no way. Yet our Father directs our steps. This is a vast and precious blessing. A young Christian, full of zeal, may not see the value of this. But how many experiences will he pass through? Once someone has seen the world and its traps — what a pathless wilderness of evil it is — the Lord's directing of our steps is beyond all price. The humble young Christian is also led by grace, if he waits on the Lord. He may not see the wisdom of it, or how great the privilege and mercy are, until later.
God does more than keep His people out of trouble. He sets them on a road someone has already walked.
Note that there is no way but Christ. Adam did not need a way; he had to remain, enjoying God's goodness, where he was. In a sinful world there is no way; all is confusion and sin. But Christ Himself was in the world in a way that answered to God. As He passed through it, He showed divine life and its path through the world, while not being of it... This is our path. We have to follow His steps, and He is the way to the Father, and it is to Him we are going. It is an immense privilege that the Lord orders our steps, guarding us from evil and guiding us. And He delights in our way.
Some object that no Bible text covers our everyday decisions.
Someone may reply that we cannot expect to find a text of Scripture to guide our movements, or the thousand little details of daily life. Perhaps not. But Scripture lays down certain great principles. Applied rightly, they give divine guidance even where we find no particular text... "The steps of a good man are ordered of the Lord." "He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way." "I will counsel you with my eye upon you." He can make His mind known to us about this or that particular act or movement... We should never move or act in uncertainty. If we are not sure, let us be quiet and wait... If we are humble and distrust ourselves, and if we wait on God with an honest heart, He will surely guide us. But it will never do to ask God for counsel in a matter where our mind is already made up, or our will is at work.
- Steps. God's public government of the world is still future; meanwhile He governs a life one step at a time.
- Strength. "Established" means God makes the steps firm. Their steadiness comes from Him, not from the walker.
- Standing. The "good man" is not sinless; he is the one who seeks to honour the Lord, and the Lord protects his way.
- Path. God orders the steps onto a real road — the path Christ Himself walked through this world, and His people walk it now.
- Support. Even a fall does not end the walk: God holds up the hand lifted to Him, and He delights in the way He orders.
though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down, for Jehovah upholdeth his hand.
The promise here is not that the godly man never stumbles, but that his fall is never final. Two questions follow: what the fall is, and what holds the man up.
One writer reads this psalm as a call to wait, aimed at the point where a believer is most likely to break down:
So in Psalm 37 we have a call to the godly to be patient and to wait for the Lord. This is a beautiful psalm. God knows where the saint is in danger of breaking down before the day of deliverance dawns. So He encourages him to be quiet and to wait.
The verse begins with "though," which points back to the man whose steps the Lord establishes. That guidance is easy to undervalue until life has tested you:
A young Christian, in trusting zeal, may not see the value of this so much. But how many experiences will he pass through? Once someone has seen the world and its traps, he knows what a pathless wilderness of evil it is. Then it is beyond all price that the Lord directs our steps. The humble young Christian is also directed through grace, if he waits on the Lord. He may not see the wisdom of it, or how great the privilege and mercy is, until later.
The wording is precise. It does not say he will not fall. It says he does not go down past recovery. Older wordings differ from the ESV here: verse 24 reads "not utterly cast down," and verse 23 has God delighting in the man's way. One commentary also asks whose hand the verse means:
Next we have the steps of a man (the Hebrew word implies strength). His firm and prosperous steps are "established by the LORD." Their strength comes from Him. "And He delights in his way" — a way so blessed and strengthened. So if such a man falls, he will not be utterly cast down, for the Lord upholds the hand that he lifts to Him. He "affords it," as Delitzsch puts it, "a firm point of support or fulcrum, so that he can rise up again."
Commentators differ here. One reads the fall as collapse under trial, not moral failure:
There is another mercy — God watches over him. He may fall in trials, that is, not in sin, but he is not utterly cast down (compare 2 Corinthians 4:9 and following). The Lord upholds him by His hand. It may be part of the way God governs that he should be brought low and set aside. But the Lord's hand is in it, and he is not out of it, and that hand upholds him. The vessel may be broken or treated with dishonour by men, but the power is of God.
Another reads it as real spiritual failure, and points to a moment when a man sank and a hand caught him:
It may be that he will suffer falls, but he will not be totally cast down. The Lord knows how to restore any wandering believer (v. 24). He stretches out His hand in tender compassion. You see this in Matthew 14:29-31, when Peter, walking on the water, began to sink and called out to the Lord. The Lord at once stretched out His hand and rescued him.
The promise of recovery is not permission to be careless. One writer sets it beside the warning that goes with it:
The believer need not fall if he takes heed... And even if we fall, we still have the encouragement of the Scriptures: "though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the LORD upholds his hand" (Psalm 37:24). All these promises are ours if we do not "think we stand." We must instead take refuge in the LORD, who alone is our strength and our keeper.
- Ordered. The steps come first. Guidance through a world full of traps is a mercy most people value only later.
- Upheld. The hand is the man's, lifted to the Lord — and God holds it, giving a fixed point of support so he can rise again.
- Fallen. He does fall — the promise assumes it. The verse rules out the finality, not the fall.
- Restored. Commentators differ on the fall: crushed by trial, or sinking through failure like Peter. Either way the outstretched hand meets him where he goes down.
- Kept. The promise is for those who take refuge in the Lord, not for those who assume they are already standing on their own.
I have been young, and now am old, and I have not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed seeking bread
David speaks from a long life. From his youth to his old age he watched how God treats those who walk with Him. His verdict: the righteous are never abandoned, and their children are never left to beg. Commentators read this as a statement about how God governs the world. That raises two questions. Does it hold today? And what about believers who are poor?
This is not a theory. It is what one man saw over a lifetime: suffering, yes, but never abandonment.
The psalmist had not seen the righteous forsaken. That is a most happy statement. He had doubtless seen them tried and tested, persecuted and afflicted. But he had not seen them forsaken by their God, nor their children begging bread.
Another writer draws out how things finally end.
He watched people and circumstances, and he could say that he had never seen the righteous finally forsaken. Nor had he seen the wicked finally prosperous, though for a while such a man spreads himself like an evergreen (vv. 25, 35).
The psalm ties this promise to what the righteous man does with what he has. He is the one handing out, not holding out his hand.
The psalm again describes the righteous as one who shows grace and gives to others. A man has little righteousness if he can forget the claims of the needy when his own needs are so many. This the Lord delights to maintain: his children are not merely blessed, but "for blessing." Blessing others is his ministry, and it carries on in those who spring from him and learn his ways.
Psalm 37 promises the earth to those who wait for God. That open display is still ahead. The rule behind it has not lapsed.
The wicked may prosper. Jehovah has His own time, a time which is always right and sets all right… They that wait on Jehovah shall inherit the earth… This is Jewish, without doubt. But the government of God is still exercised, though not on public display. And when the soul has waited on Him in patience, it has its blessing even here. The last part of the psalm carefully declares this sure government of the earth. God will display it openly in connection with the Jews. For now He carries it on more secretly, in the time of heavenly grace. It is still very true.
Under the old order, wealth proved God's approval. That test no longer works, and the life of Christ shows why.
Earthly prosperity was the unfailing mark of God's favour to an Israelite. So the Psalmist testified: "I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread" (Ps. 37:25). It is not so now. The Lord Jesus Himself was here as a poor and dependent man. He had no possessions in this world. Certain women ministered to Him out of their means (Luke 8:2-3). And the word for us who now believe is, "if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content" (1 Tim. 6:8).
If wealth is no longer the sign, worry is still out of place. God fed His own Son.
Under an earthly testimony, the Jew found that obedience brought him wealth, not poverty. But it was not so with the Lord Jesus, and we are heirs with Him. He was poor, yet He did not want — never wanted. God would take care to feed His Son. Something monstrous comes into our minds when we worry anxiously about our needs. It is just as monstrous to think that we must be in want because we follow One who had nowhere to lay His head… God hiding from you the channels through which He will care for you is quite a different thing from His forgetting you.
God forsook one righteous Man, once. That is why He will never forsake anyone else.
Yes, there was — but that was when, in tenderest grace, He was under sin for us. In three hours of darkness He "identified Himself with God's judgment against sin," and bore its awful curse. Then, and then only, and necessarily, was He forsaken. Blessed Redeemer! … So, in the fullest sense, the saint, the righteous, is not forsaken. Paul could speak from his own experience. He was "persecuted," as he most certainly was, yet he was "not forsaken"!
- Observed — David reports what a lifetime showed him. He saw the righteous tried, persecuted and afflicted, yet never forsaken.
- Governed — God's rule over the earth will one day be open for all to see. For now it runs out of sight, but it runs.
- Provided — the righteous man gives to the needy, so begging is not his family's story. His children learn his ways.
- Reframed — wealth marked God's favour for Israel. It is not so now. Christ Himself lived poor and dependent.
- Guaranteed — one Righteous Man was forsaken, in the darkness, bearing judgment for sin. Because He was, no one belonging to Him ever is.
all the day he is gracious and lendeth, and his seed shall be a blessing.
This psalm speaks to people who watch wrongdoers thrive while the godly are pushed down. This verse answers with a picture: a man who keeps on giving, and children who carry the good forward.
This picture of the generous man is one half of a contrast that runs through the whole psalm.
Psalm 36 sets the wicked against God's character. Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two sides. First, the present life, when the evildoers are the great majority and hold the upper hand. Second, the coming age, when God will remove the evildoers in judgment, and the godly will enter the liberty of glory.
The verse follows David's claim that he has never seen the righteous abandoned, or their children begging for bread.
Instead of begging, the righteous keep showing mercy. They lend, and they do not insist on being paid back! Such a character has lasting effects on his descendants, and they will have good reason for deep thankfulness (v. 26).
Being righteous here is not only about avoiding wrong. A man who forgets the poor, while his own needs are many, has little claim to the word.
The righteous man is again described as one who shows grace and serves. A man has little righteousness if he can forget the claims of the needy when his own needs are so many. And the Lord delights to keep this character going. His children are not merely blessed, but are "for blessing" — the blessing of others. His ministry carries on in those who come from him and learn his ways.
Another passage says how God views such kindness. He counts it as a loan made to Himself. The commentator quotes that passage from an older translation.
Man was to represent God, who loves a cheerful giver, in a world like a wilderness. Here God encourages man to pity those who have nothing. "He that pities," or is gracious to, "the poor lends to Jehovah," as He counts it; "and what he bestows He will pay him again." What security can match this? Think too of the honour of being creditor to Him!
The world can lend too, but on its own terms. The difference marks out whose sons we are.
The way of the world stands in contrast to this. The world can easily return love for love. It can do good to those who do good to it, and lend in the hope of getting back as much. But to love, do good, and lend with no hope of return — that is conduct fitting the sons of the Most High, because He is kind to the unthankful and the evil.
For an Israelite, visible prosperity marked God's favour. Christ Himself did not live that way.
Prosperity in this world was the sure mark of God's favour to an Israelite. The psalmist said as much: "I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread" (Ps. 37:25). It is not so now. The Lord Jesus Himself was here as a poor and dependent man. He had no possessions in this world... And the word for us who now believe is, "if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content" (1 Tim. 6:8).
- Contrast. The psalm sets evildoers against the godly. They thrive now, and judgment comes in the coming age. This verse shows what the godly look like while they wait.
- Character. The righteous man is not the beggar but the lender. He keeps showing mercy and does not demand his money back.
- Claim. A man who forgets the needy while his own needs are many has little righteousness. Showing grace is part of what the word means.
- Credit. God counts kindness to the poor as a loan made to Himself — unmatched security, and an honour.
- Continuation. The blessing does not stop with him. His children become a blessing to others, learning his ways and carrying his ministry on. Yet the terms have changed. Visible prosperity marked God's favour to an Israelite; the Lord Jesus owned nothing, and our word now is to be content with food and clothing.
Depart from evil, and do good, and dwell for evermore;
The psalm has spent twenty-six verses telling anxious people not to fret over those who prosper by doing wrong. Now the advice becomes a command with a promise attached: why should turning from evil and doing good lead to a home that lasts forever?
This instruction is not new in the Psalms. One writer traces where it came from, and points to the One who lived it perfectly:
So the important principle of departing from evil and doing good is stressed again in verse 27, as it was already in Psalm 34:14. And, notably, both times it stands under the same Hebrew letter, ם. This active, practical pursuit of what is good, in separation from evil, was seen in perfection in the altogether "perfect man" (v. 37). He is the One whose wonderful ways, works, and words made our blessed God and Father fully known, both in His nature and in His character.
Earlier the psalm told the reader to stop being angry. Verse 27 goes wider, and one commentator shows how much wider:
Lower down in the psalm we find a third instruction of a negative kind. "Depart from evil" (v. 27). This carries the matter a step beyond verse 8, for we are to keep clear of evil of every kind. Where there is very much evil, we are to be marked by the absence of evil. We can all see the great importance of this. Without it, any testimony we may give is cancelled out. The psalmist adds, "and do good," and with these words he carries us from the negative to the positive. The negative is of great importance, yet it is not enough by itself. Positive good must be brought in. God's ways in the moral world hate a vacuum, just as they do in the created world.
(Older translations read "Depart from evil"; the ESV has "Turn away from evil.")
Leaving evil behind can become an achievement a person settles into. Another writer warns what happens then:
In the Old Testament God's people were told to "cease to do evil" and "learn to do good" (Isaiah 1:16-17). In the New Testament we are told to "abhor what is evil" and "hold fast to what is good," and the like (Romans 12:9). With God-fearing souls, led by the Spirit, these always go together. To rest in having separated from evil would be dangerous indeed. It might soon lead to greater evil, or end in cold and dry orthodoxy.
The words "do good" appear back in verse 3, joined there to what produces them:
"Trust in the LORD, and do good," is the word. The fretful spirit is like a root out of which springs a good deal of evil. Confidence in God is a root out of which nothing but good springs. It sets the heart at rest; it calms the spirit; it delivers from fretfulness. The evildoers may be very irritating and troublesome, even provoking to the last degree. But after all, the Lord is on high and He has not relaxed His grip on things. He is infinitely good, and wholly to be trusted.
The next verse gives the ground of this promise, and one commentator finds two grounds there, not one:
There is a moral reason for God's ways — He loves judgment; besides that, there is the assurance of sovereign love. He loves His saints. They are preserved for ever.
The promise to "dwell forever" here belongs to the earth. One writer warns against taking it as the whole story of the future:
Let us remember that this is the Old Testament side of the truth. We shall fall into great error if we take it as the whole truth. Taken that way, it has been used to prove, and is quite able to prove, that there is no heavenly portion for the saints of the present and the past, and only annihilation of personal existence for the wicked... If "the future of the wicked is to be cut off," this does not mean he is to have no future, or that his portion is extinction. It means simply that the earth is to be freed from his presence, and so from the misery that presence causes.
- Root — "Trust in the LORD, and do good" (v. 3) is where this obedience starts. Confidence in God calms the fretting heart and frees it for good.
- Leave — turning from evil goes beyond curbing one fault. It means keeping clear of evil of every kind. Without that, any testimony a person gives is cancelled out.
- Fill — stopping evil is not enough. Positive good must come in, because God's moral order hates a vacuum. Resting in separation alone can end in cold, dry orthodoxy.
- Pattern — the "perfect man" of verse 37 walked this way in full, and made God fully known.
- Rest — the promise to dwell forever stands on two things: God loves justice, and He loves His saints. This earthly promise is the Old Testament side of the truth, not the whole of it.
for Jehovah loveth judgment, and will not forsake his saints They are preserved for ever; but the seed of the wicked shall be cut off.
God's promise here rests on two things at once: what He loves, and whom He will not let go. Psalm 37 wrestles with a painful fact: evildoers appear to do well. This verse points away from how things look now. It points to God's own character, and to a settled end for two families — His saints and the children of the wicked.
The verse gives a reason ("For") before it gives a promise. Older translations render "justice" here as "judgment," and the writers quoted below use that older word. One writer separates the two strands in the verse: a reason in God's nature, and a reason in His love.
There is a moral reason for God's ways — He loves judgment; besides that, there is the assurance of sovereign love. He loves His saints. They are preserved forever.
Notes on this psalm explain the Hebrew word behind "saints" and the position these people hold:
"Saints" are khe-sed (gracious): the righteous, the faithful few among the Jews, waiting in patience — meek. Verse 11 gives their character while the power of evil is at work… The true subject of this psalm is not mercy, though there is mercy in it, but righteousness.
Some people use the second half of the verse to prove that the wicked simply stop existing. One writer answers that, and marks the limits of an Old Testament promise:
Remember, this is the Old Testament side of the truth. We fall into great error if we take it as the whole truth. Taken that way, people have used it — and it can indeed prove — that the saints of the present and the past have no heavenly portion, and that the wicked simply stop existing… If "the future of the wicked is to be cut off," this does not mean he has no future, that his portion is extinction. It simply means that the earth will be rid of his presence, and so of the misery that presence causes.
The psalm has said this before, and it will say it again. The repetition is not padding. It aims at something in us:
He adds what he has already shown, that "the Lord loves justice." Since this is so, He will not forsake His saints. He will preserve them forever, while the descendants of the wicked will be cut off (v. 28)… Why does the psalm repeat this so often? Because our minds naturally doubt, and God wants us to fully accept the truth of what He says.
If God loves justice, why is so much of it missing today? The answer is timing, not absence — and that gap is where patience lives:
Psalm 37 is closely tied to the open rule of God in this world. That rule will be made good when the meek inherit the land and the wicked are cut off… The time for the open display of God's rule has not come. No doubt evil will press harder still just before God puts it down. Even now, though, it is the time of patience, and the evil is there… These exhortations all rest on one certainty. After all, Jehovah is above all the evil. He loves judgment. He does not forget the righteous and those who trust in Him. In the end His way will have the upper hand.
How much of this psalm belongs to Christians? One writer draws the line with care:
The strict meaning belongs to the godly faithful few in Israel and to the coming age, when God will deliver them and they will "inherit the earth," when they will "inherit the land and dwell upon it forever." Yet we may gladly apply it to people like ourselves, with the changes and adjustments that our different era requires. We do not look to inherit the earth or the land. We look for the Lord to come and take us to our heavenly portion. He will deliver them, and He will deliver us too — only in different ways and with a different portion in view.
- Cause. God does not abandon His own out of mere sentiment. He loves judgment, and that is the first reason the promise holds.
- Gift. Sovereign love stands beside the moral reason. He loves His saints, so He preserves them forever.
- Character. The "saints" here are the gracious, the meek, the righteous. They hold their ground while evil is in power.
- Limit. "Cut off" clears the earth of the wicked and his children. It does not mean they stop existing. That is the Old Testament side of the truth, and taking it as the whole truth leads to serious error.
- Result. Our minds doubt, so God says it again and again. He asks us to wait. His rule is real now; He will display it openly later.
The righteous shall possess the land, and dwell therein for ever.
Psalm 37 sets the wicked, who look like winners, beside the righteous, who look like losers. Verse 29 says how the story ends — but who are "the righteous," and which land do they get?
The psalm is not a general reflection on virtue. Its subject is ownership.
Psalm 37 — As with Psalm 25, also an acrostic, the question raised here is the possession of the land. But forgiveness of sins is not the point here, as it is in Psalm 25. The point is the contrast between the righteous and the wicked. The righteous trust in Jehovah. The wicked have a passing success, but they will perish in their treachery and violence. The psalm teaches a heart at rest in Jehovah, and a spirit not troubled by man's evil. Meanwhile the righteous wait for Jehovah's time to give the inheritance. The title deeds of it are here. (See verses 9, 11, 18, 22, 29, 34.) It all rests on Jehovah's faithfulness.
So who are "the righteous"? One writer points to a faithful remnant within Israel — known by the fact that they live by this psalm.
This Psalm plainly applies to the Jews who have faith — that is, the remnant, shown by their acting on this Psalm. It applies directly to the land as the inheritance of blessing (see verses 3, 9, 11, 22, 27, 34). But this in fact then means the earth, because it is the time when all things are restored.
Verse 29 is not new. The same promise has already come in verses 9, 11, 18 and 22. Why say it again?
Again the psalm tells us that the righteous shall inherit the land and dwell in it forever (v. 29). Why say this so often? Because our minds doubt so easily, and God wants us to fully accept the truth of what He says.
Verse 29 closes a short run of thought. That run starts with a command and rests on God's own character.
Here the psalmist turns, as we would expect, from this encouraging assurance to instruction: "Depart from evil and do good: and dwell forevermore." He adds the reason: "Jehovah is a lover of judgment, and He does not forsake His godly ones. He preserves them forever, but the seed of the wicked shall be cut off. The righteous shall possess the earth (or land), and dwell in it forever."
Israel's hope of the land was not a side issue. It shaped what they asked God for.
To Israel this was an ever-present desire of faith, whatever their temporary humiliation through their own sin: "The righteous shall inherit the land and dwell upon it forever." Then and in that way would God's will be done on earth as in heaven. It was very familiar to the Jew, but not to the Gentile — the non-Jew — whose own hope, even after he was converted, was to be heavenly only.
The verse still profits Christians today, but not in the same shape.
Strictly, this belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and to the coming age. Then God will deliver them, and they will "inherit the earth" and "inherit the land and dwell upon it forever." We may still happily apply it to people like ourselves, but only with the changes this different age calls for. We do not look to inherit the earth or the land. We look for the Lord to come and take us to our heavenly portion.
That distinction costs Christians nothing. They will still have the earth — but as rulers with Christ over it.
The promise belongs to an earthly people, yet we shall still enjoy it, and in a better way. As "heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ," we shall reign with Him over the earth. So we have no need to covet Israel's promises; they would not make us any richer.
One writer adds a warning about pressing this verse too far.
Remember, this is the Old Testament side of the truth. We shall fall into great error if we take it as the whole truth. Taken that way, people have used it — and it can indeed serve — to prove that there is no heavenly portion for God's people of the present and the past. And when it says the wicked will be cut off, that does not mean he has no future, or that his end is simply extinction. It means the earth will be freed from his presence, and from the misery that presence causes.
- Title deeds. The psalm is about possession, and verse 29 is the deed itself. God signs the inheritance over while His people are still waiting.
- Deed named. "The land" is Israel's promised land. God hands it over when He restores all things, and then the whole earth comes into the promise.
- Deed repeated. God repeats this promise through the psalm, because doubting minds need it pressed home, not just stated.
- Deed's road. The way is marked out: turn from evil, do good, and rest on the God who loves justice and never abandons His own.
- Deed shared. Christians do not claim the land. The Lord takes them to a heavenly portion, and they will reign with Christ over the earth. Nothing here is lost, and there is nothing here to covet.
The mouth of the righteous proffereth wisdom, and his tongue speaketh judgment;
Psalm 37 sets the godly beside the wicked and tells the tried believer to stop fretting and wait for the Lord. Verse 30 turns from the pressure outside to the man himself, and to his speech. Where do such words come from, and who has ever spoken them without fault? (Older translations read "judgment" where the ESV has "justice." The writers quoted below call God by the Old Testament name Jehovah.)
The psalm presses patience on the remnant — the faithful few in Israel.
In this psalm the great point pressed on the remnant — a lesson for every soul — is waiting on Jehovah, and not letting evil upset the spirit. Evildoers will soon be cut down like grass. They are not to fret, but to trust in Jehovah and do good. They are to delight in Him, and they will have their desires. They are to commit their way to Him, and He will justify them. They are to rest in Him and wait patiently for Him.
One commentator defines both halves of the verse — wisdom in the mouth, and justice on the tongue.
First, we see the righteous man in that obedience of heart to God which makes his mouth meditate wisdom. That is, he says out loud what his heart has thought over. So his tongue speaks judgment — the practical ability to tell things apart in their moral or spiritual difference. It is the law of his God in his heart that has given him this light. Walking in the light, he walks safely: his steps do not slide.
The verse describes the man, but it does not start with him. One commentator traces his words back to God at work inside.
Verse 30 shows God working in the heart of a believer, moving him to speak wisdom with his mouth and to talk of justice. "For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks" (Matt. 12:34). So what a person says shows his character. Verse 31 says the same: "the law of his God is in his heart." And when the heart is right, the steps will not slide. They will keep moving forward, steady and sure.
If speech reports on the heart, the practical question is what we store there.
Whatever is in the heart comes out through the lips, and in the life. How important, then, to have the heart full of the word of God! So full that we have no room for the empty, foolish things of this present evil world… The tongue is the mouthpiece of the heart — the mouthpiece of the man.
One writer reads verses 30 to 33 as a portrait of Christ Himself.
Verses 30-33 are full of interest. They give a short summary of the character and experience of Jesus as the servant of righteousness. The law of His God was in His heart, and He did not receive honour from men. Deep springs of wisdom were in the mouth of the One who spoke as no one had ever spoken. He told the mysteries of the kingdom of God in parables. He spoke words of life and health to the tired ears of sinners weighed down with burdens. But the eye of the wicked one was fixed on Him for evil.
The obedience of this man is exactly what draws hostility in the verses that follow.
But just because he is obedient to God, the wicked become his enemies. They watch him, and even seek his death. They may even go through the form of a trial, wrapping themselves in the appearance of justice to do their cruel work. But Jehovah is against them. However things may look, He cannot abandon the righteous man to their hand, and He will not condemn him because they do this.
The Lord found this same justice missing in the strict religious leaders of His day.
The Pharisees were fussy and showy about small duties. They neglected the weightier matters of judgment and the love of God. Giving tithes was right, but they should not have overlooked judgment (see Psalm 37:30-31) and the love of God. Their practice matched their love of being honoured by other people.
- Heart first. The law of God kept in the heart is the source; the mouth only reports what is already stored inside.
- Heart speaks. Wisdom in the mouth is meditation said out loud. Justice on the tongue is the ability to tell right from wrong.
- Heart walks. The same inward law that steadies the tongue steadies the steps, so they do not slide.
- Heart tested. Because this man obeys God, the wicked watch him. They even use the forms of justice against him. Yet the Lord will not abandon him to their hand.
- Heart perfected. Deep wisdom was in the mouth of Jesus, who spoke as no one ever spoke. Without such a heart, careful religion still misses justice and the love of God.
the law of his God is in his heart; his goings shall not slide.
Psalm 37 sets the godly apart from evildoers. Verse 31 looks behind the righteous man's words to his heart, and then forward to his steady walk.
Verse 30 describes what the righteous man says. Verse 31 names the source of that speech.
Verse 30 shows God's working in the heart of a believer to move him to use his mouth to speak wisdom and to talk of justice. "For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks" (Matt. 12:34). So what a person speaks shows his character. Verse 31 shows this: "the law of his God is in his heart." And when the heart is right, the steps will not slide. They will move forward steadily and surely.
What fills the heart lights the path the feet take.
First, we see the righteous man in that obedience of heart to God which makes his mouth meditate wisdom. That is, he speaks out what his heart has thought over. So his tongue speaks judgment. This is practical discernment, which tells things apart by their moral or spiritual difference. The law of his God in his heart is what gave him this light. Walking in the light, he walks safely: his steps do not slide.
No one carries God's law inside by nature. One commentator reads the verse as a prophecy about Christ.
This commandment is "good" (Rom. 7:12), but the will of man is opposed to obeying it. The mind of the flesh is enmity against God. It is not subject to the law of God, and it cannot be (Rom. 8:7). This disobedient nature belongs to all the sons of Adam. So they stand in absolute contrast with God's Righteous One, of whom it was prophetically written, "The law of his God is in his heart; his steps do not slip" (Ps. 37:31).
Read this way, the psalm's righteousness has a face.
So for the believer, Christ gives substance and colour to the moral outline of righteousness that this Psalm draws so clearly. He alone perfectly shows the principles of an acceptable walk before God, and the rewards of righteousness are His.
If no one is born with God's law inside, then God must put it there. He promises to do that for a particular people.
The law is not written on the heart naturally, as the promise of the new covenant clearly shows. If it were true of all men naturally, it could not be a special promise to a certain class. When God writes His law on a heart, that heart will not let the person forget what He has commanded. This is not the natural condition of anyone. It belongs only to those of whom He can also say, "Their sins and iniquities I will remember no more."
One writer applies this to Christians today, though not by putting them under the law.
The writing of the Holy Spirit on our hearts today is Christ. He is, indeed, the spirit of the new covenant. So, though we are not "under the law, but under grace," we still delight in the law. We fulfil its righteous requirements as we walk according to the Spirit. The believer can even now sing, "Oh, how I love your law!" for he is brought to rejoice in the One who has magnified the law. He rejoices in the One who has borne its curse for him on the tree.
The second half of the verse promises stability. That stability comes from the Word working on heart and conscience, not from stored information.
There is a preserving power in the Word that keeps the feet from sliding. Only those who receive the truth and love it know that power. Merely having the word hidden in the memory will not do! There is no preserving power in that. The truth must act on the heart and conscience and separate us from all defilement. Otherwise no one experiences its preserving power.
The nearby verses give a second reason the steps hold.
His steps will not slide, for the Lord will not leave him in the hand of those who watch for his destruction. So let the godly wait on the Lord and keep His way, knowing that he will inherit the land, while those who seek his downfall will be cut off (vv. 30-34).
- Source — The righteous man speaks wisdom because his heart holds God's law. Speech shows what the heart stores.
- Gift — That inward law is not natural to anyone. It is the promise of the new covenant, given to those whose sins God remembers no more.
- Person — Adam's race stands in absolute contrast to God's Righteous One. He alone walked acceptably before God, and the verse is fully true of Him.
- Power — Memorised words preserve no one. Only truth acting on heart and conscience keeps the feet from sliding.
- Protection — The steps also hold because the Lord will not leave the righteous man in the hand of those watching for his ruin.
The wicked watcheth the righteous, and seeketh to slay him
The psalm has just described a man whose heart holds God's law and whose mouth speaks wisdom. Now an enemy is watching that same man and waiting for a chance to kill him. Why does a good life attract an enemy? And what is God doing while the watching goes on?
The psalm sets two groups against each other, and it holds that contrast across two ages.
If Psalm 36 shows us the wicked set against God's character, Psalm 37 sets evildoers against the godly. The contrast has two parts. First, the present life, when the evildoers are the great majority and hold the upper hand. Second, the coming age, when God will remove the evildoers in judgment and the godly will enter the freedom of glory. In the present age the godly are often oppressed and always in some measure of trouble. So they need God to teach them how to go through it, and in what spirit to meet it.
The watching is not bad luck. It comes from the obedience described just before — and the attack can dress itself up as a court of law.
But just because he is thus obedient to God, he has his enemies in the wicked, who watch him, and even seek his death. They may even go through the form of a trial, and surround themselves with the appearance of justice, to do their cruel work. But Jehovah is against them. Despite all that may seem to be the case, He cannot abandon the righteous to their hand, nor condemn him because they do this. No, He will surely justify him.
One writer reads verses 30-33 as a picture of Jesus. In Him the whole description came true: the wisdom, the watching, and the death.
Verses 30-33 are full of interest. They present in brief a summary of the character and experience of Jesus as the servant of righteousness. The law of His God was in His heart, who received no honour from men. Deep springs of wisdom were in the mouth of Him who spoke as no one had ever spoken... But the eye of the wicked one was set on Him for evil... He sought, and at the appointed time, found that righteous blood. For our sakes, and at the Father's will, Jesus was given into the hands of His betrayers and His murderers. But Jehovah, who upheld His servant, did not leave Him in their power. Another hand was at work in what seemed to crown the wishes and reward the cunning of the prince of this world.
When enemies watched Jesus, they sent men who acted the part of good men. Their flattery backfired.
They sent spies who pretended to be righteous men, but their hypocritical flattery was fully discerned by the Lord. Yet, enemies as they were, they bore public witness that He taught the way of God in truth. What a condemnation of their own evil designs!
The next verse gives the answer, and it takes the case out of the enemy's hands.
The Lord is also in perfect control when the wicked watch the righteous closely, seeking his destruction (v. 32). The Lord Himself defeats their evil plans, and He will not leave the believer in the hands of the ungodly (v. 33). If the ungodly pass judgment against the child of God, God will not condemn him, and that is the one thing that matters. We might well echo Paul's words, "With me it is a very small matter that I should be judged by you or by any human court." (1 Cor. 4:3).
Being watched creates huge pressure to strike first. The advice here is the opposite.
Because we need it, scripture often tells us what this psalm repeats: "wait on the Lord, and keep His way." The wicked are dug in against the righteous. The righteous can well afford to wait on the Lord instead of foolishly taking matters into their own hands.
- Watched because righteous. Obedience brings the hostility, not any wrong done. The enemy targets him for the very life described just before.
- Watched with a mask on. The enemy may use the courts and send spies who pretend to be righteous, so the plot looks lawful from outside.
- Watched to death — once. In Christ the verse reached its full weight. The wicked eye watched Him, and at the appointed time the enemy found that righteous blood.
- Watched, but not surrendered. The Lord will not leave the righteous in the enemy's hand, and He did not leave His Servant in their power either.
- Watched, so wait. Only God's verdict decides the case. So the answer to being watched is patience, not revenge.
Jehovah will not leave him in his hand, nor condemn him when he is judged.
In the verse just before, the wicked man watches the righteous and looks for a chance to kill him. Verse 33 answers with two promises: the Lord will not leave His own in that grip, and He will not back the verdict men reach in court.
Persecution here can wear the dress of a courtroom, and the result can look like a lawful conviction. One writer shows God doing more than staying neutral in it:
They may even go through the form of a trial, and dress themselves in the appearance of justice, to do their cruel work. But Jehovah is against them. However things may look, He cannot abandon the righteous to their hand, nor condemn him because they do this. No, He will surely justify him.
A human court can still hand down its sentence. The verse does not promise that no one will judge you. It promises that God will not agree with them, and that is what settles the matter:
The Lord Himself thwarts the wicked man's evil plans. He will not leave the believer in the hands of the ungodly (v. 33). If the ungodly pass judgment against the child of God, God will not condemn him, which is the one matter of importance. We might well echo Paul's words, "With me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court" (1 Cor. 4:3).
The Lord correcting His child is one thing. The enemy pressing a charge against him is another. The first stays private; the second brings God out as defender:
He may have many a private dispute with His child about the way he lives. But the moment the enemy brings a charge against him, Jehovah always pleads His servant's cause. "Touch not my anointed ones, do my prophets no harm." "He who touches you touches the apple of His eye." "It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn?" The Lord has hidden the very weakest lamb of His blood-bought flock behind a shield. No dart of the enemy can pierce it.
The hardest test of this promise is Christ Himself. One writer applies verse 33 to Him:
The wicked one sought, and at the appointed time, found that righteous blood. For our sakes, and at the Father's will, Jesus was given into the hands of His betrayers and His murderers. But Jehovah, who upheld His servant, did not leave Him in their power. Another hand was at work in what seemed to crown the wishes and reward the cunning of the prince of this world... But Jehovah's Holy One could not be left as a trophy in the hands of the wicked one (verse 33).
The same writer carries that promise past the courtroom, to the accusing voice inside:
The accuser may be loud. The conscience may judge itself and fully agree with the harshest sentence the adversary passes. But the God of truth has spoken otherwise... The Lord will not leave His children in the hand of the destroyer, nor condemn those whom He has already justified...
The psalm does not leave the righteous passive. The next verse tells him how to fill the waiting time. The writer quotes it from an older translation — "wait on the Lord," where the ESV has "Wait for the LORD" — and he finds two different demands in the words:
We are not only to wait patiently for the Lord. We are also to "wait on the Lord, and keep His way." Waiting for Him means trustful patience until He steps in. Waiting on Him means keeping up that holy fellowship and communion with Him. That fellowship makes sure we obey His will while we wait for Him to act.
- Watched. The wicked studies the righteous and wants him destroyed — sometimes through a court that keeps every appearance of justice.
- Held. God cannot abandon the righteous to that hand. He hides the weakest of His flock behind a shield, and no dart of the enemy gets through.
- Cleared. When men judge you, that is a very small thing. The verdict that decides everything is God's, and He does not condemn.
- Proved. Men handed Christ Himself over to His murderers, yet Jehovah would not leave His Holy One as a trophy in their power.
- Waiting. Until He acts, the righteous both waits for the Lord in patience and waits on Him in obedience, keeping His way.
Wait for Jehovah, and keep his way, and he will exalt thee to possess the land when the wicked are cut off, thou shalt see [it].
Psalm 37 has spent thirty-three verses telling its reader not to fret but to trust God. Now it draws all of that into one command with a promise attached, and two questions follow: what is it to wait on God, and who gets the land at the end?
One commentator finds the psalm's whole message packed into this one verse.
Psalm 37:34. "Wait on the Lord, and keep His way." The whole secret of what we have to do.
One writer separates two kinds of waiting. His point rests on the older translation, which reads "wait on the Lord" where the ESV has "wait for."
Verse 34 adds one more thing. We are not only to wait patiently for the Lord. We are also to "wait on the Lord, and keep His way." Waiting for Him means trusting Him patiently until He steps in. Waiting on Him means keeping up that holy fellowship and communion with Him which makes sure we obey His will, while we wait for Him to act.
The trouble may not lift while you wait. The fretting still can.
The trouble and pressure and difficulty around us may last a little longer — "In just a little while, the wicked will be no more" (v. 10) — yet we can be relieved of our natural fretting. That sets us free to find our joy in the Lord, to keep communion with Him, and so to "keep His way," and to do His will in glad obedience.
Scripture keeps repeating this command. One writer explains why the righteous can leave the outcome to God.
Because we need it, Scripture often tells us what verse 35 repeats: "wait on the Lord, and keep His way." The reason is that the wicked are dug in against the righteous. The righteous can well afford to wait on the Lord instead of foolishly taking matters into their own hands. As they wait, God will lift them up in the end to inherit the land (the land of Israel), and they will see God cut off the wicked (v. 34), without their help.
The verse promises an inheritance, but it also names the road there.
The way to the inheritance is a path of patience. Yet the righteous will have the land, and will see the wicked cut off out of it. For now, seeing only part of the story leaves the wicked in power, flourishing like a green tree in soil that suits it. But this is not the end. Anyone can give examples of how fast all this show of strength is uprooted and passes away.
The verse promises that you will look on. There is a pattern behind that promise.
This teaches us much, for this has been God's way, and still is. God let the builders of the tower of Babel carry on with their work until they made it a wonder. He gave Nebuchadnezzar time to finish his great city. The beast of Revelation will prosper until the whole world marvels after him. So here God bears with Haman until he sits at the very top. Then, at the moment of their proudest height, God's judgment comes on them all. Herod was another such man. God struck him, and he died while the people were listening to him and saying, "The voice of a god, and not of a man!" (see Ps. 37:34-36).
The land promised here is the land of Israel. So what does this verse hold for readers today?
after-note: DELETE
This is Jewish, without doubt. But as we have seen, God still governs, though not in a public way. When the soul has waited on Him with patience, it has its blessing even now. The last part of the psalm carefully sets out this sure government of the earth. God will display it openly in connection with the Jews. He carries it on more quietly in this time of heavenly grace, and it is still very true.
- Wait — the psalm's whole counsel folds into one line: wait on the Lord and keep His way.
- Wait near — waiting for God is patience until He acts. Waiting on God is communion with Him that keeps you obedient in the meantime.
- Wait empty-handed — the wicked are dug in, yet the righteous need not take matters into their own hands. God does both the lifting up and the cutting off.
- Wait through — the road to the inheritance is a path of patience. The flourishing of the wicked is a stage on that road, not the end of it.
- Wait and watch — God lets pride climb to its full height before He strikes. The one who waited is still standing to see it.
I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading like a green tree in its native soil
David is not giving a theory here. He watched it happen: a wicked man at the peak of his power, spreading like a well-rooted tree — the very sight the psalm keeps telling the godly not to fret over.
Older translations say "green bay tree" here; the ESV has "green laurel tree." The word behind it carries a picture worth seeing.
From "native born," or that which springs up without transplanting. Ps. 37:35 reads in the margin, "tree that grows in his own soil." That is a striking picture of the wicked spreading himself in his own earthly soil.
Trees in Scripture can stand for two different things.
Scripture uses a tree (1) as a picture of fruitfulness. From this point of view the tree of the field was called "man's life" (Deut. 20:19). Scripture uses it also (2) as a picture of greatness: "I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree" (Ps. 37:35). The same tree might have both qualities, but not always.
What David saw was not just unpleasant. It seemed to clash with God's justice in running the world.
At times the most honoured servants and saints were suffering, and had to pass through the deepest trials, while the wicked prospered and lived at ease. To the righteous this was completely baffling… So also with David: "I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree" (Psalm 37:35). Such things these men could not reconcile with the justice of God's moral government.
Earlier in the psalm David also said what he had never seen. The two statements belong side by side.
First he tells us, out of his long and ripe experience, that he had "not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread." Second, he had "seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay tree." At the same time he adds that "he passed away, and behold, he was not." His wiping out was complete. The psalmist had no doubt seen the righteous tried and tested, persecuted and afflicted, but he had not seen them forsaken by their God.
Verse 35 stops before the end of the story. Verse 36 finishes it.
In verse 35 the psalmist tells us he has seen wicked people enjoying great power. They spread out like a huge tree, so well rooted, it seems, that nothing could ever bring it down. But "he passed away, and behold, he was no more" (v. 36). Some wicked kings reigned for several years, others only for a very brief time, but all died. In fact, the longer they reigned, the more they added to the stench of their memory.
The greater danger is not for the onlooker. It is for the man in the tree. His own success carries him along, and he never sees where it is taking him.
They may be like the man asleep in his canoe, swept along unaware on the peaceful current that flowed silently towards the mighty Niagara. So they pass on, blinded by earthly prosperity and by the interests that fill their time, till at last they "pass away" altogether, and are not. They reach their end in time. They may die rich, only to spend a poor eternity. They were "without God in the world," and they will be the same for ever!
The psalm does more than explain the sight. It tells the godly how to answer it, three times over.
The psalm calls the godly to be patient under evil. As if to stress this, three times in the first eight verses we meet the words, "Fret not yourself." "Fret not yourself because of evildoers" (verse 1). "Fret not yourself because of him who prospers in his way" (7). "Fret not yourself in any way to do evil" (8). How easily we make mistakes when we judge people and things!
The prospering of the wicked is not only a puzzle about them. It is a test of us.
No matter how prosperous the wicked become, there is no real reason to fret or feel treated unfairly. If wicked schemes succeed for ungodly men, it is only for a time. Seeing wickedness prosper may raise our anger. But we should treat it as a test of ourselves: have we the self-control to stop being angry and turn from wrath (v. 8)? Fretting brings us no profit; it only does us harm.
- Soil. The tree is native, never transplanted. The wicked man spreads in his own earthly ground, and that is the only ground he has.
- Size. The picture is greatness, not fruitfulness. A tree can be vast and still bear nothing, and Scripture keeps the two ideas apart.
- Sight. David is reporting what he saw, and he pairs it with what he never saw: the righteous forsaken. Both statements come from long observation.
- Silence. In verse 36 the tree that looked permanent is gone. No one cuts it down. There is an empty place and a name that rots.
- Steadiness. The right response is not envy or anger but resting and waiting. Fretting only harms the one who frets, and can push him into the very evil he resents.
but he passed away, and behold, he was not; and I sought him, but he was not found.
The psalmist is not arguing a theory here; he is reporting what he watched with his own eyes. A man of great power was there. Then his place was empty. How long does the success of the wicked last? And what should the believer do while it lasts?
The psalmist reports two things. He never saw the righteous forsaken. He did see a powerful wicked man vanish. One writer sets the two side by side and says why the psalmist wrote them down.
The Psalmist can speak of the way of the wicked and of the way of the righteous. He recalls what he has learned from watching God's dealings with the righteous (25, 26) and with the wicked (35, 36). He had never, he declares, seen the righteous forsaken nor his children begging bread. On the other hand, he had seen the wicked in great power, spreading himself out. Yet he passed away, and he was no more; he sought him, but he could not be found. These statements of what he had not seen, and of what he had seen, were meant to encourage the faint-hearted. His place knew him no more.
Nothing is left to search for. The man who looked firmly planted is gone, and even his reputation works against him.
In verse 35 the psalmist tells us he has seen wicked people enjoying great power. They were like a tree spreading out to a great size, and it looked so firmly rooted that nothing could bring it down. But "he passed away, and behold, he was no more" (v. 36). Some wicked kings reigned for several years, others only for a very brief time, but all died. In fact, the longer they reigned, the more they added to the stench of their memory.
The vanishing in this verse is not bad luck. God lets pride climb to its peak before He acts. The highest moment is the moment of the fall.
This is very instructive, for this has been God's way, and is so still. God let the builders of the tower of Babel carry on with their work until they made it a wonder. He gave Nebuchadnezzar time to finish his great city. The beast of the Apocalypse will prosper until the whole world wonders after him. So here God puts up with Haman, until he sits at the very top. Then, at the moment of proudest elevation, the judgment of God visits all of these. God struck down Herod, another such man. He died while the people were listening to him and saying, "The voice of a god, and not of a man!" (see Ps. 37:34-36).
Whether the wicked look secure depends on where you stop looking.
But the way to the inheritance is a path of patience. The righteous will own the land and see the wicked cut off out of it. In the meantime, a partial view leaves the wicked in power, flourishing like a green tree in soil that suits it. But this is not the end. Everyone can give examples of how fast all this show of strength is torn up and passes away. Soon he is not there.
One writer finds the words too general to fit just one man. He reads them as pointing ahead to the fall of the lawless one.
This psalm notes the prosperity of the lawless one and his sudden destruction (verses 35, 36). Yet the language is too general to fit any one case. As prophecy, though, I have no doubt what the Spirit has in view here: the events of the last times — the trials, the hopes and the deliverance of the righteous remnant.
To pass away is not to escape. What a man gains before he dies settles nothing about what comes after.
They may die rich, only to spend a poor eternity. They were "without God in the world," and they will be the same for ever! What an awful doom! Oh, the wisdom of knowing and enjoying the favour of God day by day! Oh, the wisdom of seeking, by grace, to walk in godliness and practical righteousness! Then, if people persecute us for Christ's sake, or if the good and unerring hand of God our Father afflicts and tries us, we may at least realise that we are "not forsaken." We are instead the objects of His unfailing love and care.
- Seen — the psalmist reports what he watched, not what he imagined. He never saw the righteous forsaken. He never found the powerful wicked man again.
- Grown — God lets pride reach its full height first. Babel, Nebuchadnezzar, Haman and Herod all fell at the top.
- Gone — nothing is left to find. Every such ruler dies, and a long reign only leaves a worse memory.
- Early — a partial view leaves the wicked still in power. Only the end of the story settles it.
- Ahead — the same pattern points to the lawless one's sudden ruin. Your business is God's favour today.
Mark the perfect, and behold the upright, for the end of [that] man is peace;
Psalm 37 has spent thirty-six verses answering one nagging question: why do the wicked flourish while the godly wait? It closes with a command: look hard at one man — sound before God, straight with people — and watch how his story ends.
The ESV calls this man "blameless"; older translations read "perfect." The same pair — "perfect and upright" — describes Job at the start of his book. One commentator explains there what each word means.
"that man was perfect" — that does not mean there was no evil in him. That is not what "perfect" means in Scripture at all. In the Old Testament it is the word for a man who is thoroughly sound — a sound man, not just a moralist, but a man who was right with God. And besides being sound in that way, he was "upright" with man. "Perfect and upright" showed relations, one to God, and the other to men. Both ought to go together.
Nobody needs urging to notice the man who spreads himself. The blameless man is easy to overlook, and easy to misread.
Now we are told to take full account of the blameless man and to observe the upright. Great numbers may ignore him. They may dismiss his very character as too soft about fighting for his own rights. But unlike the man who spreads himself, the end of his path is peace (v. 37).
Where the ESV promises "a future for the man of peace," older translations read "the end of that man is peace." That peace is not the same thing as a settled conscience before God. One writer marks the difference.
The end of the perfect and of uprightness is peace. The same holds in practice for a Christian. God may chasten him for particular faults, because in mercy God's ways are unbending and right. But when a man walks through life with an upright purpose of heart, that life closes in peace — if it closes this side of glory. The fear of God and walking in His presence is a great means of peace. I am not speaking of peace for a sinner's conscience through the precious blood of Christ. I mean the peace of God that fills the heart when we bring everything before Him.
The wicked man's show of strength is real. It is simply not the last word.
But this is not the end. Everyone can supply examples of how quickly all this show of strength is uprooted and passes away. Soon he is gone. And the ends of the two — the wicked and the upright — how different! The end of the one is peace — or prosperity; and of the other, as rebels against God, to be cut off.
Psalm 37 keeps urging one habit: turn from evil and do good. Only one life ever did that without a flaw.
This active, practical pursuit of what is good, in separation from evil, appeared in its perfection in the altogether "Perfect Man" (v. 37). He is the One whose wonderful ways, works and words made our blessed God and Father fully known, both in His nature and in His character.
John the Baptist announced Jesus, yet he did not close his life in peace, as old Simeon did. That looks like the opposite of what this verse promises.
John saw the salvation of God, as aged Simeon did. And unlike Simeon, John was the chosen herald of the Lamb of God. Yet John's part was not to depart in peace, as that honoured father of Israel did — the portion of the perfect and upright man (Ps. 37:37)... What explains facts that seem to contradict each other? God was not then vindicating the righteous on the earth, as He will yet do.
Commentators differ here. Some read the peace as the normal close of a godly life. Others stress that God's full answer waits for a day still to come.
- Mark — the verse gives a command, not a compliment. Take full account of a man the crowd ignores and calls soft.
- Perfect — not sinless. In the Old Testament it means thoroughly sound and right with God. "Upright" adds being straight with people. The two belong together.
- Path — the blameless man is overlooked while the man who spreads himself looks strong. That show of strength is real, but it is not the end.
- End — the word carries both peace and prosperity. It splits the two men: one closes in peace; the other, as a rebel against God, is cut off.
- The Man — only Christ, the Perfect Man, walked this way without a flaw. And where a godly life still ends without peace, the answer is timing: God is not yet vindicating the righteous on earth, but He will.
but the transgressors shall be destroyed together; the future of the wicked shall be cut off.
The psalm closes by setting two men side by side and following each to the finish. The blameless man ends in peace. The transgressors are swept away together. Verse 38 is the dark half of that pair, and it raises three questions: who does the cutting off, when, and where?
Verses 35 and 36 describe a wicked man flourishing like a spreading tree. Verses 37 and 38 tell how each story ends.
The wicked man may, indeed, for a time make a great show of prosperity — like a lush green tree — yet he will pass away and not be found. The blameless man may pass through trial, but his end is peace, whereas the end of the wicked is to be cut off (vv. 35-38).
The "end" here is not just the moment of death. It is the outcome — what a life finally comes to. The ESV calls it the "future." One writer sets the two outcomes side by side and names the reason for the second.
But this is not the end. Everyone can point to examples of how quickly all this show of strength is uprooted and disappears. Soon he is gone. And how different the ends of the two are — the wicked and the upright! The end of the one is peace — or prosperity; and of the other, as rebels against God, to be cut off.
Older translations end the first line with "destroyed together"; the ESV reads "altogether destroyed." Taken as "together," the word points to men who band against the righteous. One commentator draws out what that shared cause buys them.
Now we are told to take full account of the blameless man and to watch the upright... unlike the man who spreads himself out, the end of his path is peace (v. 37). "But the transgressors shall be destroyed together" (v. 38). Bonds they formed for selfish ends will prove to be bonds that unite them in destruction, cut off from the earth.
The psalm tells its readers not to fret and not to burn with anger. Verse 38 shows why that is possible. God promises the cutting off, and He keeps it in His own hands.
Those who do evil are not going to last forever, as verse 2 shows... "Evildoers shall be cut off" (v. 8). Again, "Yet a little while and the wicked shall not be" (v. 10). But the judgment that ends his career is God's act, not ours. It is a good thing that it is God's act, for we are far too small, too biased in our thinking, and too self-centred to be trusted with it. Our anger and our wrath against sin can never rise to the height and holiness that mark God.
So where does this cutting off happen? One writer answers from the pattern of the whole book of Psalms.
The judgment spoken of in the first Psalm, and all through the Psalms, is a judgment that removes the wicked and leaves the righteous as Jehovah's congregation on the earth.
Does that leave a Christian outside the promise? One writer applies the psalm to us with a difference:
The strict interpretation belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and the coming age, when God will deliver them and they will "inherit the earth"... But we can gladly apply it to ourselves too, with the changes that God's different way of dealing with us now makes necessary. We do not expect to inherit the earth or the land. We expect the Lord to come and take us to our heavenly portion. They will be delivered and so shall we — but in different ways, and with a different portion in view.
Verse 38 is not the psalm's last word. Two verses later the psalm names what the righteous man's peaceful end rests on, and it is not his own record.
However right the walk and ways of the godly, they must always remember that their salvation is from the Lord. He is their strength in trouble, their help in time of need, and the deliverer of all who trust in Him from the wicked.
- Watch the end. The wicked man's show of strength is real, but it does not last. The psalm judges both men by where their road stops, not by how it looks today.
- Why the ends differ. The end of one man is peace. The end of the other is to be cut off, because he stood as a rebel against God.
- The end of a shared cause. Bonds that transgressors form for selfish ends become the bonds that unite them in destruction.
- Who brings the end. The judgment that ends the wicked man's career is God's act, not ours. We are too small and self-centred to be trusted with it. That is why the psalm can tell us not to fret.
- What secures the good end. The righteous man's peace does not rest on his own walk. It rests on the Lord, his strength in trouble and his deliverer.
But the salvation of the righteous is of Jehovah he is their strength in the time of trouble.
The psalm ends by placing two futures side by side: the end of the upright and the end of the wicked. Then it gives the reason the righteous survive at all. It is not their record or their strength. It is the Lord Himself, their fortress while the trouble lasts.
The psalm has watched the wicked flourish and then vanish. Its closing word says where the safety of the righteous lies. One writer pictures these verses as a siege:
Victory is for the righteous; their salvation is of One who cannot fail them. Even in the time of distress He is their stronghold; and what a fortress for the enemy to besiege! He will help and rescue them as surely as they have fled to Him for refuge.
The help is not earned. It is as sure as their running to Him.
In the Psalms the word "salvation" has enemies in view:
The believers in the Psalms hope and pray for salvation — which means to be saved from their enemies. This salvation will come when the Messiah steps in and destroys those enemies.
The verse joins two things: salvation, and a stronghold in the trouble. Some translations render that second word "strength". It matters most when the trouble does not lift:
"The salvation of the righteous is from the LORD." He knows how to deliver them from any adversity or enemy. And in the middle of trouble He is their strength to enable them to bear whatever trial He may allow them to have (v. 39).
God may let the trial run its course. The answer to trouble is not always removal.
The psalm says much about how the godly should walk. That can leave the impression that a right walk is what saves. One writer closes the psalm by ruling that out:
However right the walk and ways of the godly, let them always remember that their salvation is of the Lord. He is the strength in trouble, and help in time of need, and the deliverer from the wicked of all who trust in Him.
Circumstances in the psalm keep changing. This closing statement does not:
Finally Jehovah is the strength of the righteous in the time of trouble. This cannot fail. He will help and deliver them, saving them from their enemies because they trust in Him. This is always true.
The reason given is trust, not achievement. That is why the promise holds in every case.
Salvation comes from the Lord. That has a sharp edge for anyone asking how to be right with God. Religious activity is the first thing ruled out:
It does not say salvation is in taking the sacraments or singing psalms. It is not in your giving to the poor or your saying of prayers. These can never save. "Salvation is of the Lord." You are shut up to Him alone. For we read, "And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12). You are shut up to Christ.
This verse comforts people who are losing right now. One writer describes the shape of the whole psalm:
The contrast has two parts. First, in the present life, the evildoers are the great majority and have the upper hand. Second, in the coming age, God will remove the evildoers in judgment and the godly will enter into the liberty of glory. In the present age the godly are often oppressed and always under some measure of trouble. So they need instruction from God about the way they should go through it, and the spirit in which they should meet it.
- Source. Salvation comes from the Lord — it rests on One who cannot fail, not on the believer's record or resources.
- Stronghold. The Lord is not only the rescuer at the end; He is the fortress the enemy has to besiege while the trouble lasts.
- Strength. Deliverance may come by removing the trial or by supplying strength to bear it — He knows how to do both.
- Trust. Help rests on their trust in Him. They run to Him for refuge; they do not earn Him.
- Scope. In the psalm, salvation means rescue from enemies. Taken to the full, the same words leave a person with Christ alone.
And Jehovah will help them and deliver them he will deliver them from the wicked, and save them; for they trust in him.
For thirty-nine verses the psalm has weighed two lives against each other. One flourishes and then vanishes. The other waits. The last verse names where rescue comes from, and gives one reason for it: they take refuge in Him.
The verse comes at the end of a long list of instructions about how the godly should live. One writer warns them not to rest on their own good conduct.
However right the walk and ways of the godly, let them always remember that their salvation is of the Lord. He is the strength in trouble, and help in time of need, and the deliverer from the wicked of all who trust in Him.
The verse piles up verbs — helps, delivers, delivers again, saves. One commentator sees two gifts in them. God gives strength to bear a trial. He also gives rescue out of it.
"But the salvation of the righteous is from the Lord." He knows how to deliver them from any adversity or enemy. In the middle of trouble He is their strength. He enables them to bear whatever trial He may allow them to have (v. 39). If they need help, He will supply it. If they need deliverance, He will not fail them in any way. He both delivers and saves them (v. 40), simply because their trust is in Him.
The word "because" at the end of the verse ties the rescue to the act of fleeing to God. One writer pictures God as a stronghold. The help is as sure as the flight to Him.
Victory is for the righteous; their salvation is of One who cannot fail them. Even in the time of distress He is their stronghold; and what a fortress for the enemy to besiege! He shall help and rescue them as surely as they have fled to Him for refuge.
If refuge is the reason God saves, then everything hangs on the One you flee to. One writer makes the point with a picture of a drowning man.
Faith is the first stone of the building, but it is not the foundation. It is the act of holding on to Christ, but all its value depends on the worth of the Christ you hold on to. A man may have faith — real, eager, energetic faith — in saints and images, in priests and relics. Yet his faith does not save him. A drowning man puts out his hand. With more than natural energy he seizes a piece of froth dancing on the crest of a wave. His hand cuts through it like air, and he sinks helpless in the deep. He is lost. Not because his aim was poor, or his grasp weak, but because the phantom he fled to had no truth and no power in it. Our help is laid on One who is mighty. Christ saves to the uttermost… "Blessed are all who take refuge in Him."
One writer says the psalm speaks first to a faithful few in Israel, in an age still to come. So can a reader today claim this promise? His answer is careful.
The strict meaning belongs to the godly remnant of Israel and to the coming age. Then God will deliver them, and they will "inherit the earth."… But we may gladly apply it to people like ourselves, with the changes the new age makes necessary. We do not look to inherit the earth or the land. We look for the Lord to come and take us to our heavenly portion. God will deliver them, and He will deliver us too; only in different ways and with a different portion in view.
The same psalm sets out what refuge looks like in practice. The instructions build in order, and the fourth one is the hardest.
A fourth instruction follows in verse 7. "Rest in the Lord," or, as the margin says, "Be silent to the Lord, and wait patiently for Him."… Having rolled our way upon the Lord, so that the responsibility and weight of it are now His, we rest in Him and wait for Him to act. The wicked may still appear to flourish and bring his wicked schemes to pass, but that no longer frets us.
- Source — Salvation is from the Lord. However right the walk of the godly, it is He who is their strength, their help, and their deliverer.
- Supply — He gives strength to bear a trial He allows, and rescue out of it. He promises both, and He fails in neither.
- Stronghold — He is a fortress the enemy besieges in vain. He helps and rescues as surely as they have fled to Him.
- Substance — The grip matters less than the One you grip. Faith that seizes froth still drowns. Our help is laid on One who is mighty.
- Scope — The strict promise looks on to the day when God removes the wicked and His people inherit the land. The same God delivers us now, with a different portion in view.
(A Psalm of David, to bring to remembrance.) Jehovah, rebuke me not in thy wrath; neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.
Psalm 38 opens with a man in deep pain who traces all of it back to God's own hand. He does not ask first that the pain would stop. He asks that it would not come from anger. The whole psalm turns on that difference between God's anger and God's correction.
He is not asking God to leave him alone. He asks that the hand on him would not be the hand of hot displeasure. One writer traces that plea back to the heart's confidence in God's faithful love.
There may be the sense of God's chastening hand for sin and deserved wrath. But the heart turns to God's faithful love in relationship with us, and that leads it to plead against just wrath and His hot displeasure. There is a government of God according to His nature. The chastening hand of God does not destroy the faith and knowledge of our relationship with Him (to us, of Father). Nor does it destroy the settled certainty that nothing can be charged against the believer. Yet the soul does not quiet itself with this while it feels the governing hand of God in it.
Notice the order in the verse. He speaks of God's anger before he mentions his own sin. Writers take that order as a sign of faith, not of a gloomy mind.
Psalm 38 presents to us a special state of soul... Yet the soul is in the depth of sorrow and distress, and this is looked at as the chastening of the Lord. It is under it, but pleads against it... The heart attributes it all to sin, but first of all looks to Jehovah and His hand. It is this that shows faith and a right mind.
This man prays long before Christ's sacrifice, and that explains the terror in his cry.
Because he is deeply convicted of the guilt of his own sin, the psalmist dreads having to face God about this. We can understand why. Only in the New Testament do we find the clear knowledge of being justified by the grace of God, because of the value of the sacrifice of Christ. Without that knowledge of perfect redemption, the anguish of conscience because of sin is deep indeed. The psalmist feels God's wrath as a terrifying rebuke and the heat of God's displeasure (v. 1).
One writer explains why the suffering comes at all.
This psalm speaks of sin in the believer as something that must bring suffering on him. God judges that sin now, so that in the day of judgment he may escape it (1 Cor. 11:32). The New Testament shows us this as the Father's judgment. He chastens His own children so that they may share His holiness (Heb. 12:10).
The gap between a Father's correction and God's wrath is wide.
But how wide the contrast between the chastenings of the Father and that "wrath" or "anger" which rests upon unbelievers! The Father's chastenings flow from love, and He sends them so "that we may share His holiness" (Heb. 12:10). From that wrath we are delivered once and for all, when the eye rests in faith on Christ and on His precious blood!
Commentators set this psalm beside the book of Job, and then beside Christ Himself under the burden of sin.
Every expression of Job's sufferings seems concentrated here, with less talking, and with this remarkable difference. Here there seems to be the sense of sin together with the confidence of help, and all his desire was before God. Job's heart was pride, which he wished to bring before God. Notice also how Christ brings to remembrance under the burden of sin. He opens out all His heart before God and recognizes the cause, not saying, "He has set me up as a target to shoot His arrows at," but "because of my sin."
The psalm works on two levels at once: a future company of faithful Jews, and any believer today who has failed.
Psalms 38—39 present the governmental dealings of the Lord with a believer as the direct result of his own sin and failure. In many other psalms the trouble comes from the sin of the nation, but not here. These experiences of the soul under chastening doubtless picture the exercises of the godly remnant of the Jews in a latter day. They also hold important principles that apply to a failing saint at any time.
- The hand. The sufferer looks first at the LORD, not at his circumstances or his enemies. He traces it all to sin, but he sees God's hand before anything else.
- The plea. He does not ask to escape the rod. He asks that it not be anger. He pleads that way because he knows his relationship with God.
- The difference. A Father's chastening flows from love and aims at holiness. Wrath rests on unbelievers, and faith in Christ's blood frees the believer from it once and for all.
- The timing. Sin in a believer is judged now, so that in the day of judgment he may escape it.
- The confession. Job protested that God had made him a target. This psalm names the cause instead: "because of my sin."
For thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand cometh down upon me.
Psalm 38 opens with a man who is sure his suffering comes from God. He gives it two pictures: arrows stuck in him, and a hand pressing him down. Can such a man still turn to the God who is striking him? And what happens to these arrows when Christ takes them?
Scripture uses arrows as a picture, and not for one kind of pain only.
Scripture uses arrows as a metaphor for the judgments of God (Psalm 38:2; Psalm 45:5). It also uses them for anything sharp and painful, such as a wounding tongue (Jeremiah 9:8).
One writer traces what the arrows and the hand do to the whole man.
The first section shows us the soul under conviction, and in dread of the divine anger. Even with the grace known in Psalm 32, we must not expect here the clear knowledge that the New Testament has brought to us. He feels and owns his sin, and he dreads God's anger. Already His arrows stick fast in the sufferer, and the mighty hand of God presses down upon him. He feels it in his whole condition, taking soundness from his flesh, and health from his bones. His sin is the burden upon him, a burden he has not the strength to carry.
The psalmist did not yet have the answer the New Testament gives about guilt.
The psalmist is deeply convicted of the guilt of his own sin, so the thought of facing God about it terrifies him. We can understand this if we remember one thing. Only in the New Testament do we find the clear knowledge that God's grace justifies us, because of the value of the sacrifice of Christ. But without this knowledge of perfect redemption, the pain of conscience over sin runs very deep.
This psalm stands apart from those around it. One writer reads it as the cry of a soul under God's governing hand, feeling the rod for real sin. Here "the remnant" means the faithful few among God's people.
The upright have sought and waited for deliverance, and God has granted forgiveness of sins for blessing. But in these psalms God's governing rebuke for sins rests on the remnant. They know why they suffer from His hand... here they are under full chastening for sin. The rod has reached the flock outwardly and their soul inwardly... But though Jehovah strikes him, he trusts Him, because the humble soul owns that the striking is righteous.
The suffering also has a purpose: it spares something worse later.
This psalm speaks of sin in the believer as something that must bring suffering for him. The judgment of it comes now, so that in the day of judgment he may escape it (1 Corinthians 11:32). The New Testament shows us this as the Father's judgment. He chastens His own children so that they may share in His holiness (Hebrews 12:10).
The remarkable thing is not that the man suffers, but where he looks while suffering.
Here it is the far deeper distress under Jehovah's anger because of sins. Still, they look to God without hesitating, even while they feel His arrows and own their utter corruption.
Commentators see Christ entering these words and making the confession His own.
Messiah, when the arrows of Jehovah pierce the people, makes confession of sin on their behalf, as being His. Then they are arrows of correction — yes, as Christ takes them into Himself. All is done; they stick fast in Him, not in the people... The thundercloud, once spent, must roll away. It could do no more after that. It would break in blessings on those for whom He bore the stroke.
- Arrows. In Scripture, arrows stand for God's judgments. Here they sink so deep that flesh and bones feel them.
- Hand. God's mighty hand presses down as well, and the sufferer carries a burden of sin he has no strength to lift.
- Chastening. This is the rod, not the sentence. God judges sin now so the believer escapes it in the day of judgment. A Father trains His children to share His holiness.
- Faith. The wounded man traces the arrow back to God and still looks to Him. He owns both his sin and his own corruption.
- Christ. The arrows lodge in Him, not in the people. The storm, once spent, breaks as blessing on those for whom He bore it.
There is no soundness in my flesh because of thine indignation; no peace in my bones, because of my sin.
Psalm 38 is the prayer of a man who traces his misery to two sources at once: God's displeasure and his own sin. It raises a hard question: what does it mean when the pressure comes from God's own hand?
The psalmist does not choose between blaming his circumstances and blaming himself. He holds both together, and one commentator sets out the double admission plainly:
The soul fully recognises two things at once. His sufferings come from the Lord, and they are the direct outcome of his own sin. He can say "your hand has come down on me"; and the chastening is "because of my sin"; and "my iniquities" and "my foolishness."
The complaint moves through flesh and bones. Nothing in him escapes it. Sin here is not an idea he thinks about but a weight he carries:
Sin is felt and owned, and God's anger is dreaded. Already His arrows stick fast in the sufferer, and the mighty hand of God presses down upon him. He feels it in his whole condition, taking soundness from his flesh, and health from his bones. His sin is the burden upon him, a burden he has not strength to carry.
Part of what makes this psalm so dark is what the writer did not yet know. He is speaking before the cross:
The psalmist is deeply convicted of the guilt of his own sin. So he dreads having to face God about this. We can understand this if we remember one thing. Only in the New Testament do we find the clear knowledge of being justified by the grace of God, because of the value of the sacrifice of Christ. But without this knowledge of perfect redemption, sin leaves the conscience in deep anguish.
The same writer weighs that load, and then looks to Calvary:
His very bones, the framework of the body, seem to have lost their strength. His iniquities have all but gone over his head, like waters covering him. The whole experience is too heavy for him to bear. Of course, this is true: only One could ever bear the burden of iniquity. Thank God, the Lord Jesus has willingly done this for us at Calvary.
The sufferer never treats his trouble as random. He reads it as God's hand on him, and he stays before God instead of running:
Here they are under full chastening for sin. The rod has reached the flock outwardly, and their soul inwardly. Friends shrank from such a case; enemies, without compassion, plot against his life. Still he is before Jehovah, and all his desire and groaning. He is true in heart with God, and owns Him — he is silent with man… Jehovah smites, yet he trusts Him, because the humble soul owns that the smiting is righteous.
The psalm excuses nothing and softens nothing. The turn comes when the sufferer stops covering up:
Here Israel is plainly seen in the anguish of sin's bitter consequences. But note: sin is confessed as the true source of that anguish, however unrighteous the oppressing enemy was. He sees it as the hand of the Lord. He bows under it and hopes in the Lord who would hear… he would declare his iniquity and be sorry for his sin. In a word, he no longer keeps silence, and guile is no longer in his heart.
One writer hears verses 3–5 on the lips of Christ, who speaks them for others and not for Himself:
The sorrow of Christ for my sin! The grief and mourning of the Son of God! As the gracious bearer of His people's sins, He discloses to the Searcher of hearts the root of bitterness as His own. "My sin" — "my iniquities" — "my foolishness"… David's own deep guilt and sorrow supply the language for the lips of his Divine Son. He had come into the world to die, as David's substitute and ours.
Another puts it a step differently — Christ does not confess sin as His own, but stands with the sufferer and produces the confession:
In such a Psalm as 38, Christ enters into the sorrow of the godly remnant where He had been, but in the confession, and inspiring the confession of their sin, taking deceit out of their heart, as One who could do it, as He who had come into all its bitterness and had borne all its weight as known in the light of God.
- Owned. The sufferer names both causes without flinching — God's indignation above him, his own sin within him.
- Felt. Sin here is not theory. It drains soundness from his flesh and health from his bones — a burden he has no strength to carry.
- Governed. He reads the blow as God's righteous hand. He stays before Him, silent toward men, and still trusts Him.
- Confessed. The turn comes when the silence breaks. He declares his iniquity, hides nothing, and deceit leaves his heart.
- Borne. What he cannot carry, Another has carried. The psalmist did not yet know the clear truth of justification. We do — and that is what makes the same conviction bearable.
For mine iniquities are gone over my head as a heavy burden they are too heavy for me.
Psalm 38 is the cry of a soul under God's chastening hand, tracing its misery straight back to its own sin. Verse 4 gives that sin a shape. It is water closing over a drowning man's head. It is a load no shoulder can lift. So who can carry it?
The psalmist does not treat his trouble as bad luck or as the cruelty of enemies. He looks past every second cause to God's hand, and past God's hand to what provoked it.
Psalm 38 shows us a special state of soul. The heart knows and feels its relationship with God, and feels it with confidence, even while the soul keeps pouring out its feelings... Yet the soul is in deep sorrow and distress, and it looks at this as the Lord's chastening... The heart traces it all to sin, but it looks first of all to Jehovah and to His hand. This is what shows faith and a right mind.
"Too heavy for me" is the voice of a conscience under conviction, afraid of God's anger.
So the first section shows us the soul under conviction, dreading God's anger... He feels it through his whole condition: it drains the soundness from his flesh and the health from his bones. His sin is the burden on him, and he has no strength to carry it.
The psalmist has no answer of his own. One writer takes the image further, to the only One who could bear such a load.
He does not know what it is to have a conscience cleansed, as New Testament believers have found (Heb. 10:2). So his very bones, the frame of his body, seem to have lost their strength, and his iniquities have all but gone over his head, like waters closing around him (vv. 3-4). The whole experience is too heavy for him to bear. And this is true: only One could bear the burden of iniquity, and thank God, the Lord Jesus was willing to do it for us at Calvary.
The confession belongs to a suffering people who own their sin as the real cause. Yet the Spirit of Christ shapes the words, because He made the atonement they do not yet understand.
In Psalm 38 Israel is clearly seen in the anguish that sin brings. But mark this: the sin is confessed as the true source of the anguish, even though the enemy who oppressed them was in the wrong... The feelings are the feelings of the chosen remnant, and in spirit they are true of any soul in such a case: confessing the sin in faith, and sure that God will hear. That certainty is expressed for them by the Spirit of Christ. He fully enters into their case and produces these feelings, because He made the atonement that lets Him lead them to God — though they do not yet know its value, and are crying out of the depths.
The heavy hand here is a Father's discipline of His own, not the final sentence of a judge.
This psalm speaks of sin in the believer as something that must bring suffering on him. He is judged for it now, so that in the day of judgment he may escape it (1 Cor. 11:32). The New Testament shows us this as the Father's judgment: He chastens His own children so that they may share His holiness (Heb. 12:10).
Feeling the weight of sin is not the same as knowing it. Only one place shows what sin really is.
Is your soul burdened with sin?... Oh, how crushing is the weight and guilt of sin — still pressing the soul down, down, down! Yet however much we feel its weight, only at the cross of Jesus can we really learn what sin is. The cross of Christ was the scale of God's justice, and on that scale God weighed sin to the very last ounce. There He laid its whole weight on Jesus. "The LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all."
The psalm does not leave the sufferer crushed. The way back runs straight to God Himself.
The heart recovers its balance. We see this at the end of the psalm, where the soul knows that God is for it, and finds in Him its help against what once pressed on it... This comes from looking straight to Him and confessing the evil plainly, and from the depths of the soul, as evil done against Him. It sets the sin between the soul and God. Then, with God, the heart settles matters with its enemies.
- Weight owned. The sufferer makes no excuses. He traces his misery to his own sin and to God's hand. That honesty is faith, not despair.
- Weight measured. "Too heavy for me" is conviction speaking — sin felt as a flood over the head and a load the sinner has no strength to carry.
- Weight explained. For a believer this pressure is the Father's discipline now, so that he may escape judgment then.
- Weight transferred. Only One could carry the burden of iniquity, and He was willing. On the cross God weighed sin to the full.
- Weight released. Confession sets the evil between the soul and God. Then the heart comes back to rest, with God Himself as its help.
My wounds stink, they are corrupt, because of my foolishness.
The psalmist describes his condition like an untreated wound that has gone bad. He names one cause for it, and that cause is himself — his own folly.
One writer follows the misery from the sore down to its root:
Next comes the humiliation and misery of it. The wounds become open sores, which stink and are corrupt. But this corruption has its root in "folly," the spiritual opposite of divine wisdom. He is bent and bowed down under the pressure, mourning all day long.
Another writer links this to the ordinary experience of facing your own past:
This experience is indeed a humiliating one. Anyone who has had to face the guilt of his past knows something of this, for it crushes our pride down to the dust. Such wounds are foul and festering (v. 5), repulsive even to the sufferer.
Folly hides itself from the person who has it. And it does not stop at foolish choices:
A man's foolishness exposes him to evil ways. It does so all the more because the more foolish he is, the less he judges himself. If he only felt his folly before God and looked up for wisdom, how surely God would give it without scolding him. If he trusts himself, he twists his way more and more. What is worse, his heart frets or rages against the Lord. In the end his folly turns godless, and he blames the One who alone is perfectly wise and has never done him harm, but only good.
The psalm holds together two things we usually keep apart:
The soul fully recognises two things. His sufferings come from the Lord. They are also the direct result of his own sin. He can say "Your hand presses me hard"; and the chastening is "because of my sin," and "my iniquities," and "my foolishness."
He does not argue his case, and he does not go quiet. He owns the sin and still asks God for help against his enemies:
He accepts the punishment for his sin. He places himself openly before God, owning his sin, but still looking to Him against the wicked. However sad such a case may be, nothing more shows truth before God and confidence in Him. You have been unfaithful. You have dishonoured Him. The enemy is gloating over it. How then can you confess your sin and look to God for help? No excuse, no attempt to hide — none: he owns it all, and casts himself on God.
Commentators differ over how far these words reach. Some read them as words the Son of God could take on His own lips, because He carried what belonged to others:
This sorrow is immeasurably precious to the heart of the tested believer. The sorrow of Christ for my sin! It is the grief and mourning of the Son of God. As the gracious bearer of His people's iniquities, He opens up before God, who searches hearts, the root of bitterness as His own. "My sin" — "My iniquities" — "My foolishness."
Another writer puts the emphasis elsewhere. Christ stands with those who confess, and He produces that confession in them:
In a psalm like this one, Christ enters into the sorrow of the godly where He had been. But He does so in the confession, and inspiring the confession of their sin, taking deceit out of their heart. And He does it as One who could do it — as He who had come into all its bitterness, and had borne all its weight as known in the light of God.
He is missing something that believers now have, and the weight is beyond him:
He has no sense of a cleansed conscience, as New Testament believers have found (Hebrews 10:2). So his very bones, the framework of his body, seem to have lost their strength, and his iniquities have gone over his head like water covering him (vv. 3-4). The whole experience is too heavy for him to bear. Of course, this is true. There is only One who could bear the burden of iniquity. Thank God, the Lord Jesus has willingly done this for us at Calvary.
- Folly — one root explains the rot in the wound — folly, the spiritual opposite of divine wisdom.
- Festering — untreated folly turns an injury into an open sore. It disgusts even the man carrying it.
- Facing — he holds both truths at once: God's hand is pressing him, and his own sin brought it.
- Confessing — he offers no excuse and no hiding; owning the sin is what lets him still ask God for help.
- Carried — the burden he admits is too heavy for him is the very burden Christ willingly took at the cross.
I am depressed; I am bowed down beyond measure; I go mourning all the day.
This is not a passing low mood. It is a sorrow that bends the sufferer double and will not lift. Psalm 38 asks a hard question: where do you turn when your own sin caused the pain?
The psalm does not tidy up the sufferer's language. One writer notes that the psalm lets the sufferer say all of it out loud:
The failing saint is allowed to feel and express the misery, humiliation, and feebleness of his condition as the result of his sin. He has to say "I am utterly bowed down and prostrate"; "I am feeble and crushed."
The bowing shows the weight; the mourning shows how long it lasts. One writer traces the misery back to the foolishness named in the verse before:
Next we have the humiliation and misery of it. The wounds become open sores, which stink and are corrupt. But this corruption has its root in "folly," the opposition spiritually to divine wisdom. He is bent and bowed down under the pressure: mourning all the day long. Again he cries out about the disease that fills him. There is no soundness anywhere at all. Again he complains of his feebleness, and his anguish keeps increasing.
Why does the weight never lift? One writer points to something the sufferer does not yet have:
He has no sense of a purged conscience, the kind New Testament believers have found (Hebrews 10:2). So his very bones, the framework of the body, seem to have lost their strength. His iniquities have virtually gone over his head like waters covering him (vv. 3-4). The whole experience is too heavy for him to bear. Of course this is true: only One could ever bear the burden of iniquity. Thank God, the Lord Jesus has willingly done this for us at Calvary.
The same writer turns this description on the reader:
This experience is indeed a humiliating one. Anyone who has had to face the guilt of his past knows something of this, for it crushes our pride down to the dust. Such wounds are foul and festering (v. 5), repulsive even to the sufferer. Troubled, bowing down and mourning with no respite (v. 6), he bears this bitter distress.
The order of the psalm matters as much as its content. One writer lists the steps, starting with God's hand and ending in hope:
The order of thought is remarkable. First, Jehovah judging. Then sin as the cause. Then personal misery. Then the abandonment of friends. Then the liveliness and ill-will of enemies. The consciousness of all this results in the heart trusting Him who smote it, turning to Him who is striking it. Then what lay deepest in the heart comes out — hope in Jehovah. With it comes the awareness of belonging to Him in such a way that the triumph of faith's enemies could not happen. All this is felt as a need of His intervention, because the poor sinning soul had no strength in itself.
Commentators differ over the psalm's primary speaker. Some hear the cry of a failing believer under God's discipline. Another writer hears the voice of Christ Himself:
This sorrow is unspeakably precious to the heart of the exercised believer. The sorrow of Christ for my sin! The grief and mourning of the Son of God! As the gracious bearer of His people's iniquities, He discloses to the Searcher of hearts the root of bitterness as His own. "My sin" — "my iniquities" — "my foolishness" — "I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for my sin." David's personal contrition for his own deep guilt supplies the language for the lips of his divine Son. As his substitute and ours, He had come into the world to die.
The two readings meet at the same point, as another writer puts it while describing the psalm as the confession of a distressed people: "on Christ this burden did come."
- Burden. The bowing is the shape sin gives a person — a weight the sufferer has no strength to carry.
- Bowing. The psalm lets a failing believer feel that weight and say it out loud.
- Mourning. It lasts all day: the anguish keeps growing, and he has no purged conscience to rest in.
- Owning. The turning point is not relief from pain. It is seeing whose hand is on him, with no strength of his own.
- Bearing. Only One could carry that burden, and He did. Some writers hear David's words of sorrow as the voice of Christ, the sin-bearer.
For my loins are full of burning, and there is no soundness in my flesh.
Psalm 38 is the prayer of a man whose sin has caught up with him in his own body. Verse 7 is the low point: burning inside, and nothing healthy left in his flesh. It raises three questions. Who sent this? How openly may a believer describe it? And whose voice is speaking here?
The picture is physical. The burning sits in the very part of the body that normally carries its strength.
His loins, where physical strength is normally centred, are full of inflammation and there is no soundness in his flesh (v. 7). "Feeble and severely broken," he groans because of the turmoil of his heart.
He has said this earlier in the psalm, and he says it again.
Again he cries out about the disease that fills him. There is no soundness anywhere at all. Again he complains of his weakness, and his anguish keeps increasing.
The sufferer does not treat his condition as bad luck. He names two causes at once.
The soul fully recognises that, on the one hand, his sufferings come from the Lord, and, on the other, are the direct outcome of his own sin. He can say "Your hand presses me hard," and the chastening is "because of my sin," and "my iniquities" and "my foolishness."
The order of his looking matters. He turns to God first, before he traces the trouble to his own sin.
The heart attributes it all to sin, but first of all looks to Jehovah and His hand. It is this that shows faith and a right mind.
Verse 7 is not a brave face. It is a man telling God how wretched he feels.
The failing saint is allowed to feel and express the misery, humiliation, and feebleness of his condition as the result of his sin. He has to say "I am troubled; I am bowed down low"; "I am feeble and badly broken."
Bodily pain is one weight. Mockery from others is another, and this psalm carries both.
Insults and taunts are hard to bear. When the person being taunted is also suffering under God's hand, the trial is especially heavy. It would be unbearable if he could not open his heart to God.
Older translations word this verse "my loins are filled with a loathsome disease." Some readers have taken that as a description of Jesus. One writer answers them sharply.
Here we find words that could never be true of Him, who knew no sin. For example, some have applied Psalm 38:7 to the Lord Jesus. They do it only to support the theory that He literally carried our diseases in His body. This is completely wrong. His body was a holy body. Death had no claim on it, and disease could not take hold of that body.
This suffering is not tied to one man or one moment.
Psalms 38—39 show the Lord governing and disciplining a believer. The suffering here is the direct result of the believer's own sin and failure. It is not, as in many other psalms, the outcome of the nation's sin. These experiences of the soul under chastening surely picture what the faithful Jews who remain will go through in a later day. They also hold important principles for any believer who has failed, at any time.
- Owned. The sufferer traces his burning and his broken health to two things at once — God's hand on him, and his own sin.
- Owned, then addressed. Faith shows in where he looks first — to the Lord, before anything else.
- Owned aloud. He may say how humiliated, feeble and broken he feels. He never has to pretend.
- Owned under watching eyes. Mockery on top of chastening would be unbearable — but he can pour it all out to God.
- Not owned by Christ. He had no sin, and His body was a holy body. Never use this verse to teach that He carried our diseases in it.
I am faint and broken beyond measure; I roar by reason of the agitation of my heart.
Here a man tells God what his own sin has cost him: strength gone, body broken, heart in uproar. The psalm puts this collapse under God's own hand, which raises three questions — why God lets a believer feel this much, where the sufferer should look first, and what ends the groaning.
God does not numb the one He is correcting. In this verse the sufferer says out loud what his sin has cost him.
(vv. 6-8) The failing saint is allowed to feel and express the misery, humiliation, and feebleness of his condition as the result of his sin. He has to say, "I am feeble and crushed."
The turmoil inside outruns speech. One writer ties this to the ordinary experience of facing your own guilt.
This experience is indeed a humiliating one. Anyone who has had to face the guilt of his past knows something of this, for it crushes our pride down to the dust. "Feeble and crushed," he groans because of the turmoil of his heart. It seems he is having difficulty expressing what he really feels.
He does not first study his own misery, and he does not first blame his enemies. One writer traces the order: God first, then sin, then his own wretchedness.
Psalm 38 presents to us a special state of soul. The relationship of the heart with God is known and felt, and that even in confidence, as the soul goes on expressing its feelings... Yet the soul is in the depth of sorrow and distress, and this is looked at as the chastening of the Lord... The heart attributes it all to sin, but first of all looks to Jehovah and His hand. It is this that shows faith and a right mind.
There is an address for this groan. It goes to God, not to men.
Still he is before Jehovah, with all his desire and groaning. He is true in heart with God, and owns Him — he is silent with man. The sorrows are, for his soul, Jehovah's; and to Jehovah he turns. This is all right (see vv. 13-16). He will bow under it. His enemies are busy and strong. But though Jehovah smites, he trusts Him, because the humble soul owns that the smiting is righteous. He can still look for deliverance from his enemies. He owns his sin — no excuse, no hiding from God. His cry is to Him for speedy help.
Only one thing lifts this pressure. One commentator points to it, quoting another psalm about the same silence and groaning.
How true that is of a soul! Under the pressure that confession alone can remove, there is a gnawing and a dissatisfaction. There is also a reserve and a distance that the soul must feel. It is almost unbearable, until confession clears away the dark cloud. "When I kept silence, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, I will confess my transgressions to the Lord."
Some have read the psalm as the voice of Christ. One writer rejects that reading. He still hears the Spirit of Christ in the psalm, and he finds it fitted to anyone under God's correction today.
There is no right ground for applying this psalm to Christ, as writers old and new have done. Yet His Spirit breathes clearly through it, as through all the psalms. It will bring a special comfort to the godly Jew when he is awakened in a coming day to feel its value. It also fits the Christian perfectly when he suffers under the chastening hand of the Lord for folly and sin. That is the time to trust Him. The Christian may do so even more deeply, dropping all thought of enemies except spiritual ones. We can cry even then, Abba, Father.
- Feel it — the failing believer may say out loud how weak and broken his sin has left him. God does not ask for a brave face.
- Face it — the humiliation crushes pride into the dust. The turmoil inside runs deeper than words can carry.
- Trace it — a right mind looks first to God's hand. Then it owns sin as the cause. Its own misery and its enemies come last.
- Aim it — the groan goes to God, not to men. The sufferer stays silent before his critics and calls the hand that strikes him righteous.
- End it — only confession clears the cloud. Even under this chastening, the Christian can cry, "Abba, Father."
Lord, all my desire is before thee, and my sighing is not hid from thee.
For eight verses the man of this psalm describes a body and a conscience crushed under God's hand. Then he pours it all out to the very God whose hand is on him — so why turn there, and whose voice is speaking?
Verse 9 sits at the hinge of the psalm. One outline splits it into three movements, and the middle one is this opening of the heart, spoken to God under a different name:
Psalm 38:1-8 Groans under the flood of judgment from Jehovah; 9, 10 his inward parts open to Adonai; 11-22 hear and help or I am lost.
The pressure has not lifted. What changes is where the sufferer looks. He treats his sorrow as coming from God's own hand, and that is why he turns toward God:
Friends shrank from such a case; enemies, without compassion, plot against his life. Still he is before Jehovah, and all his desire and groaning. He is honest in heart with God and acknowledges Him — and he stays silent before people. To his soul, the sorrows come from Jehovah; and to Jehovah he turns. This is right.
The God who is pressing him down is the God he counts on to understand him.
But faith finds its refuge in the very One who strikes. He knows all things. He does not ignore his desire, and He is not unaware of his misery. He turns to Him when he is, so to speak, abandoned by himself, and when his close friends avoid him as a man under the stroke of God. Only his enemies remain, busy with plots against his life.
He can be this open because he has stopped defending himself. He holds nothing back, and he covers nothing up:
In a word, he no longer keeps silent, and there is now no deceit in his heart... All my longing is before you. The condition is the condition of Israel under the heavy hand of God's chastening. The feelings are the feelings of the chosen remnant, and in spirit they are just as true of any soul in that state: confessing the sin in faith, and sure that God will hear.
The same man who pours out everything to God says nothing to his critics. He carries two pressures at once, and only one of them has an outlet:
The insults and jeers of people are hard to bear. And when the one being taunted is suffering under God's hand as well, the trial will be very heavy. It would be unbearable if such a person could not pour out his whole heart to God.
Commentators differ over whether Christ speaks these words. Some read them as His own. He confesses not His sin, but the sin He had taken on Himself:
He did not try to shield the sin, to hide it from God's sight, or to excuse what He was loaded with... Far from denying or hiding it, He wants to open all His soul to God: "all my longing is before you"; "my sighing is not hidden from you."... He had no sin of His own to confess. So He takes His people's sins, holds them up, confesses them, and submits to their consequences.
Others reject that reading. They still hear the Spirit of Christ running through the psalm, but they aim the words at the believer:
There is no proper ground for applying this psalm to Christ, as old and modern writers have done. Yet His Spirit clearly breathes through it, as He does through them all... It fits the Christian who is suffering under the chastening hand of the Lord for folly and sin. That is the time to hold on to confidence in Him... Even then we can cry, Abba, Father.
Nothing about us is hidden from God. So hiding anything in prayer is pointless — and not needed:
Our heart is stirred to its depths when we are before the Lord in spirit. We feel that He searches us and knows us completely. It is useless to try to hide from Him... In our prayers too, we know we cannot hide the deep longings of the soul from Him. And then we think of His love that went as far as death, of the free gifts of His grace, and of the endless mercies that fill our days. So we know He will give us the desires of our hearts.
- Hinge. The psalm moves from groaning under judgment, to opening the whole inner man before God, to crying for help. Verse 9 is the middle step that makes the third one possible.
- Open. He breaks his silence, and no deceit is left in his heart. He spreads his desire before God and names his sin as its cause.
- Refuge. Faith runs to the very One who strikes. He does not ignore the desire, and He is not unaware of the misery.
- Silent. He answers his mockers with nothing and pours out his whole heart to God. Without that, the trial would be unbearable.
- Ours. Commentators differ over whether Christ speaks these words. They agree the psalm fits any believer under God's chastening hand — one who can now cry, "Abba, Father."
My heart throbbeth, my strength hath left me; and the light of mine eyes, it also is no more with me.
This verse sits in a psalm where the writer traces his suffering back to his own sin. Here his body gives out — heart, strength, and even eyesight. Can a person still look to God for help when he knows the trouble is God's own hand upon him?
The collapse described here comes straight after the writer lays his longing open before God. He does not just suffer it. He brings it to God.
Still, his faith is not allowed to fail. The soul finds its resource in the Lord. He takes comfort in this: if his sin is before the Lord, so also his "groaning is not hidden" from the Lord. He turns to the Lord when his own strength has failed him (v. 10). He turns to Him when lovers, friends and relatives forsake him (v. 11). And he turns to Him when his enemies use his fall to reproach him, seek his hurt, speak damaging things, and plan evil schemes against him.
The psalm does not treat this weakness as bad luck. The sufferer reads it as discipline and traces it to sin. Yet his first move is toward God, not away from Him.
Yet the soul is in the depth of sorrow and distress, and it sees this as the chastening of the Lord. It is under that chastening, but it pleads against it. He is in deep distress and sorrow, in loathsome disease, with friends abandoning him and enemies active — and in it all he looks to Jehovah. The heart attributes it all to sin, but first of all looks to Jehovah and His hand. It is this that shows faith and a right mind.
The same writer points to what makes this position hard — and to what makes it beautiful.
An important principle in this Psalm — the difficulty of looking to the Lord for deliverance from the wicked, when sin is on the conscience. Still, God is the refuge from the enemy. It is beautiful to see this integrity of heart, when he has not a word to say for himself.
If God is the source of the blow, there is nowhere else to run. The man whose own strength has deserted him turns to the God who still sees him.
But in the very One who strikes, faith finds its refuge. He, who knows all things, is not indifferent to his desire, nor ignorant of his misery. To Him he turns when he is, as it were, forsaken by himself. His close friends avoid him as a man under the stroke of God. Only his enemies remain, busy with plots against his life.
The verse names three losses in a row: the heart pounds, the strength drains, the sight dims. One writer reads them as a single stripping, and then shows what the stripped man does with his weakness.
Then he turns his eyes toward man. He finds himself stripped of strength, of light, and of everyone who should have been a help to him, and hunted by persecutors. But confidence in Jehovah, to whom he has prayed, governs his conduct. His weakness, his full confession of sin, and the fierce, unrelenting hatred of his enemies — hatred with no excuse — form the basis of his appeal to the Lord (Adonai) in verses 9, 15 and 21, to the One who delivers His people while judging the wicked.
Read alongside the surrounding verses, the fading light is placed with the other symptoms as part of one continuous decline.
There is at least some measure of relief in this section when the psalmist bows before God, where his desire will surely find an answer (v. 9), though his heart falters, his strength fails and the light of his eyes becomes dim (v. 10).
Commentators differ here. Some hear the sufferings of Christ behind David's words:
David's personal sorrow for his own deep guilt supplies the words for the lips of his Divine Son. He had come into the world to die as David's substitute and ours.
Others warn against pushing that reading into these particular lines.
But we must be very careful when we apply these Psalms to our Lord. Here we find expressions which could never be true of Him, who knew no sin. For instance, some have applied Psalm 38:7 — "for my loins are filled with a loathsome disease and there is no soundness in my flesh" — to the Lord Jesus. They do this only to support the theory that He carried our diseases literally in His body. This is completely wrong.
The verse 7 wording quoted there comes from an older Bible translation.
- Before God. The failing heart, spent strength and dimming eyes are not just endured. The sufferer spreads them out before God, who knows his misery.
- Cause owned. The psalm traces the collapse to sin and to the Lord's chastening hand. Looking first to that hand is what shows a right mind.
- Difficulty named. Asking God for rescue is hardest when your own conscience accuses you. The psalm shows a man doing it with nothing to say in his own defence.
- Refuge found. The One who strikes is the same One in whom faith takes shelter — the man forsaken by his own strength turns to Him.
- Stripped, not abandoned. Strength, light and friends all go. Confidence in the Lord still governs how he acts — and his weakness itself becomes his plea.
My lovers and mine associates stand aloof from my stroke; and my kinsmen stand afar off.
Psalm 38 is the cry of a man under God's chastening hand, who traces his suffering back to his own sin. In verse 11 the people closest to him back away from his wound — and the question is what a sufferer has left when love itself withdraws.
Commentators set this psalm apart from those where the sufferer carries the guilt of others. Here the man suffers for his own failure.
In Psalms 38 and 39 the Lord's discipline falls on a believer as the direct result of his own sin and failure — not, as in many other psalms, because of the sin of the nation. These experiences of a soul under chastening surely picture what the godly remnant of the Jews will go through in a later day. They also hold important principles for any believer who fails, at any time.
Those who knew him best read his condition as a blow from God, and they will not stand beside a man God is striking.
But in the very One who smites faith finds its refuge. He, the Omniscient, is not indifferent to his desire, nor ignorant of his misery. To Him he turns when he feels deserted even by himself. His close friends avoid him as a man under the stroke of God. Only his enemies stay near, busy with plots against his life.
Another writer notes what the sufferer does with all this: he says nothing to people, and everything to God.
Friends shrank from such a case; enemies, without compassion, plot against his life. Still he stays before Jehovah, and so do all his desire and groaning. He is true in heart with God and acknowledges Him — and he stays silent before men.
Desertion is only half of it. He is ill under God's hand and mocked by men at the same time.
In Psalm 38 he tells God what he feels in his sickness. He also tells Him about the trials his friends cause by deserting him, and the trials his enemies cause by their spiteful talk. The blame and taunts of men are hard to bear. When the man they taunt is suffering under God's hand as well, the trial is heavy indeed — unbearable, if he could not open his heart to God.
The psalm does not stop at verse 11. What friends and relatives keep away from, the Lord knows in full — and that is where the sufferer turns.
Still, his faith is not allowed to fail. The soul finds its resource in the Lord. He takes comfort in this: if his sin is before the Lord, so also his "groaning is not hidden" from the Lord. He turns to the Lord when his own strength has failed him (v. 10). He turns to Him when lovers, friends and relatives leave him (v. 11). He turns to Him when his enemies use his fall to blame him, seek his hurt, speak spiteful things, and plan evil against him.
Commentators differ over whose voice this is. Some read the psalm as the experience of a failing believer. One writer hears in it the grief of Christ before the cross.
What this psalm shows is the distress the blessed Sin-bearer felt in advance, as He looked ahead to the hour when the power of darkness must prevail. Yet the daily steps of Jesus led Him towards this lowest depth of dread. They led Him through a weary course of thankless work, and of love that was despised and never returned. They led Him among the traps set thick for His feet by men who schemed to take His life before the time (verses 10-12).
That same distance appears at the cross. One writer notes both the love and the fear in it:
All His acquaintances, and in particular the women who had followed Him from Galilee, stood far off and watched what happened. We need not say how much this moved their hearts, but fear had likely kept them from coming near.
- Wound. The sufferer traces his trouble to his own sin, and the psalm lets a failing believer say out loud how humbling that is.
- Withdrawal. Friends and relatives back away because they read the wound as God's stroke — the very thing that should have drawn pity pushes them off.
- Wolves. As love withdraws, malice moves in: only enemies stay near, plotting while he is down.
- Weight. God's hand and men's taunts land together — a load no one could carry without someone to tell it to.
- Witness. The One who strikes him is also his refuge. The same lonely distance returns at the cross, where the friends of Jesus stood far off and watched.
And they that seek after my life lay snares [for me]; and they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, and meditate deceits all the day long.
This psalm's sufferer is already crushed under God's hand, and his closest friends have pulled away. Now enemies close in — they want him dead and plot against him all day — while he knows he deserves the discipline God is giving.
One writer sums it up. No human help is left, so the sufferer stays quiet before people and pours everything out before God.
Friends shrank from such a case; enemies, without compassion, plot against his life. Still he is before Jehovah, and all his desire and groaning. He is true in heart with God, and owns Him — is silent with man.
The verse follows straight on from friends standing at a distance. Faith does not collapse under it; the sufferer turns to the One who is dealing with him.
His faith is not allowed to fail. The soul finds its resource in the Lord. He takes comfort in this: if his sin is before the Lord, so also his "groaning is not hid" from the Lord. He turns to the Lord when his own strength has failed him (v. 10). He turns to Him when loved ones, friends and relatives abandon him (v. 11). And he turns to Him when his enemies use his fall as their chance to insult him, to seek his hurt, to speak harmful things, and to plot evil against him.
The enemies point to the believer's failure. One writer says their true motive lies elsewhere.
The very thing that had humbled him and cast him down had also strengthened and multiplied his enemies. They persecuted him, in fact, not for the failure which he confessed, but for the good which, despite the failure, he had really followed. Such conduct is common enough, as we all know. These are people who would hide under a cloak of righteousness what is mere hatred of righteousness itself!
The sufferer does not run from God to escape the plotters. He runs to God — the same God whose hand is striking him.
But in the very One who smites, faith finds its refuge. He, the all-knowing One, is not indifferent to his desire, nor ignorant of his misery. His close friends avoid him as one under the stroke of God, and only his enemies remain, busy with plots against his life.
In the verses that follow, the sufferer answers nothing back. His silence is not defeat — it has a reason, and it leaves the answer to God.
Whatever the enemy may say or do, the godly soul is dumb and cannot utter any reproof, for he is conscious that he himself has sinned. He therefore leaves himself in the hands of the Lord, who can, if He sees fit, answer the enemy — "In you, O Jehovah, do I hope: you will answer, O Lord my God" (older translation).
This is not theory. One writer traces the same experience in the life of the prophet Jeremiah.
Jeremiah 14 – 20 illustrates the experiences of these two psalms. Those chapters quote several of their expressions, or at least allude to them. (Compare Psalm 38:12 with Jeremiah 18:18, and Psalm 38:7 with Jeremiah 15:18.) In Psalm 38 we see suffering such as Jeremiah's, involved as he was in all the consequences of the sin of the people, yet morally and in heart separate from the wicked, and therefore looking for deliverance.
Some writers see these verses reaching beyond any human sufferer. One writer says Jesus walked this path every day.
Towards this lowest depth of dread the steps of Jesus daily led Him. His path was a weary course of thankless labour and of despised, unrewarded love. It ran among the many snares laid for His feet by those who sought, by crafty scheming, to take away His life before the time (verses 10-12).
The verse names traps, and it also names twisted speech. One writer sees both in how people treated the Lord:
The Lord's steps being dogged, and His words distorted (Psalm 37:32; Psalm 38:12).
- Stripped — the discipline takes his strength, then his friends, until only his enemies are left.
- Exploited — enemies pounce on a believer's fall. Their real quarrel is with the good he follows, not the failure he confesses.
- Sheltered — he finds refuge in the very One whose hand is heavy; his sin is before God, but so is his groaning.
- Silent — conscious of his own sin, he offers no reproof and leaves the answering to God, who can reply if He sees fit.
- Shared — Jeremiah walked this road. Writers see the same snares and twisted words in the daily path of Jesus Himself.
But I, as a deaf [man], hear not; and am as a dumb man that openeth not his mouth.
The psalmist is under God's hand for his own sin. His friends avoid him, and his enemies plot against his life. Yet he answers as though he can neither hear nor speak. The question the verse raises is why a man with a real case against his enemies refuses to make it.
This silence belongs to one situation: a believer suffering for his own sin. One writer sets Psalms 38 and 39 apart from psalms where the trouble comes from the nation's sin.
Psalms 38—39 show the Lord's governmental dealings with a believer. The trouble comes straight from his own sin and failure. It does not come from the sin of the nation, as it does in many other psalms. These experiences of the soul under chastening no doubt picture what the godly remnant of the Jews will go through in a coming day. They also hold important principles for a failing saint at any time.
His enemies are wrong, and he knows it. But sin on his own conscience takes the words away.
Whatever the enemy may say or do, the godly soul is dumb and cannot utter any reproof, because he is conscious that he himself has sinned. He therefore leaves himself in the hands of the Lord, who can, if He sees fit, answer the enemy.
Another writer names the hard part of this position:
An important principle in this Psalm — the difficulty of looking to the Lord for deliverance from the wicked, when sin is on the conscience. Even so, God is the refuge from the enemy. It is beautiful to see this integrity of heart, when he has not a word to say for himself.
The shut mouth is not defeat. He sees how wicked his enemies are and still says nothing, because he has handed the reply to God.
But in the very One who smites, faith finds its refuge. He turns to Him when he is, as it were, forsaken of himself, and when his close friends avoid him as a man under the stroke of God. Only his enemies remain, busy with plots against his life. Through all this he is like a man deaf and dumb, his mouth stopped, as one before God (Ps. 39:9). Self-restrained, he has no reproofs, though their wickedness is plain to see. But he has left everything with God, in whom he anchors himself and is at rest. God shall answer for him.
This handover has an order. Confession comes first, and it changes where God stands in the quarrel.
Notice that the soul lays its desire before God. It is completely submissive, and it says nothing about the harm and wrong done by the enemy. That is because it referred everything to God, and hoped in Him, and trusted in Him. It had carried the whole matter to Him in the spirit of confession, and it looks at the trouble as coming from His hand. Otherwise it would not have put Him between itself and the enemies. Verse 13 and following.
One writer traces this silence beyond the psalmist — to saints now, to Israel later, and to Jesus Himself.
This suits us all, and blessed is the soul of any saint healthily exercised in this way. We should know these paths of the Spirit better than we do. This is how a repentant Israel will accept the punishment of their sin in a coming day (Lev. 26:40). So, in silence, did Jesus receive our chastisement (Isa. 53:7; Matt. 26:63; see Ps. 38).
This is why silence never means the wrongdoer gets away with it.
If we keep silence when we are insulted, it is not that there is no answer to evil and malice, but rather that the answer is left with God. We are never to try to take vengeance on the wrongdoer. God keeps all vengeance in His own hands.
One writer applied this verse to himself when men judged him:
As far as what concerns me personally, I have only to be silent; for me it is a small thing to be judged by man's judgment. I desire to be like a deaf man who does not hear.
This is not a rule against ever speaking. It is a rule about one particular situation.
How good it is for us to follow in His steps and to keep silence when men speak malicious words, whatever their source. Other Scriptures make it clear that the Christian may "entreat," "exhort," and even "rebuke." But he is never to revile or threaten.
- Sin closes the mouth. God is chastening the psalmist for his own failure. A man who knows his own sin cannot reprove anyone else.
- Silence, not helplessness. He sees the enemies' wickedness and still holds back. He is anchored in God and at rest, because God will answer for him.
- Confession makes the silence possible. He carried the whole matter to God and took the trouble from His hand. That put God between him and his enemies.
- Christ walked this path. Jesus received our chastisement in silence too. His silence was not for lack of an answer — He left it with God.
- The steps are ours to follow. Under malicious words a believer keeps silence. He may still entreat, exhort, even rebuke — but he never reviles or threatens.
Yea, I am as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs.
Enemies set traps for the psalmist and spread lies about him, and he answers none of it. Why would a man under attack refuse to defend himself, and is that silence weakness or something far stronger?
The silence is not a tactic. It comes from what the psalmist knows about himself, and it leaves the reply to God.
(vv. 13-15) Whatever the enemy may say or do, the godly soul is silent and cannot offer any rebuke, for he is conscious that he himself has sinned. He therefore leaves himself in the hands of the Lord, who can, if He sees fit, answer the enemy.
Another writer names the problem this creates for prayer.
Psalm 38. An important principle in this Psalm — the difficulty of looking to the Lord for deliverance from the wicked, when sin is on the conscience. Still, God is the refuge from the enemy. It is beautiful to see this integrity of heart, when he has not a word to say for himself.
The deafness is selective. He says nothing to his accusers, but he pours out everything to God.
Friends shrank from such a case; enemies, without compassion, plot against his life. Still he is before Jehovah, and so are all his desire and groaning. He is true in heart with God and acknowledges Him — and he is silent with man. He knows the sorrows are Jehovah's doing, and to Jehovah he turns. This is all right (see vv. 13-16). He will bow under it.
Silence here is not the same as having no case. He sees the wickedness, hands the reply to God, and rests.
With all this he is like a man deaf and unable to speak, his mouth stopped, as one before God. Self-restrained, he has no reproofs, though their wickedness is transparent. But he has left all to God, in whom he anchors himself and is at rest. God shall answer for him.
His fall gave them their opening, but it was never their real grievance. They hated the direction of his life, not the stumble in it.
The very thing that humbled him and cast him down had also strengthened his enemies and increased their number. They persecuted him not for the failure he confessed, but for the good he had followed despite that failure. We all know how common this behaviour is. Such people are glad to use a cloak of righteousness to hide what is nothing but hatred of righteousness itself!
Commentators read the verse beyond David. The same silence appears in Christ before His accusers, and in David when Shimei cursed him.
He speaks as if he were a leper outside the camp. And that is the picture of a convicted sinner, or of a saint under discipline. He is separated as one defiled and defiling; but Jesus can meet us in that place, though no one else can. As a poor woman convicted of her sins once said, "I am too bad for anyone but Jesus." And that blessed Saviour, at once "spotless" and yet "made sin," was led to the slaughter without opening His mouth. He did not answer the charges of the wicked. In silence, in the unspoken thoughts of His spirit, He committed Himself to Him who judges righteously. David showed the same towards Shimei.
Silence of this kind has a positive side. It hands the answer to God, and that means giving up the right to get even.
If we stay silent when people insult us, it is not that evil and malice have no answer. It is that we leave the answer with God. We must never try to take vengeance on the wrongdoer. God keeps all vengeance in His own hands.
One writer applied the verse to himself when others judged him.
As for what concerns me, I have only to be silent. Human judgment of me is a small thing. I desire to be like a deaf man who does not hear; Ps. 38:13-14.
- Cause — The mouth closes because the conscience is awake. A man who knows he has sinned has no rebuke to offer anyone else.
- Refuge — Silence toward people goes with full openness toward God. He lays every groan and desire before Him.
- Rest — He sees the malice, yet leaves the reply with God and anchors himself there. God will answer for him.
- Motive — His slip was only their opening. They attacked him for the good he pursued, not the failure he confessed.
- Pattern — Christ, spotless yet made sin, went to the slaughter without opening His mouth. He committed Himself to God, who judges rightly. That is the model for leaving vengeance in God's hands.
For in thee, Jehovah, do I hope *thou* wilt answer, O Lord my God.
Psalm 38 is the prayer of a man crushed under God's discipline. His body is sick. His friends stand at a distance. His enemies plot, and he says nothing back. Verse 15 explains his silence. He gives his accusers no answer because he is waiting for an answer from Someone else.
The three verses before this one describe a man acting deaf and mute. Two things keep his mouth closed: his own guilt, and his trust that God will answer.
Whatever the enemy may say or do, the godly soul is silent and can give no rebuke. He knows that he himself has sinned. So he leaves himself in the hands of the Lord, who can answer the enemy if He sees fit — "In you, O Jehovah, do I hope: you will answer, O Lord my God."
The writers quote an older English translation here. It says "Jehovah" where the ESV says "the LORD," and "do I hope" where the ESV says "do I wait."
The sufferer traces his trouble to God's own discipline. Then he turns for help to that same God.
Psalm 38 presents to us a special state of soul. The heart knows and feels its relationship with God, even in confidence, as the soul pours out its feelings. Yet the soul is in the depth of sorrow and distress, and it sees this as the chastening of the Lord. He is under it, but pleads against it. He is in deep distress and sorrow, in sickening disease, with friends abandoning him and enemies active. Even so, he looks to Jehovah in it. The heart attributes it all to sin, but first of all looks to Jehovah and His hand. It is this that shows faith and a right mind.
The psalm moves in a clear order, and this verse shows what lay at the bottom of the heart.
The order of thought is remarkable. First, Jehovah judging. Then sin as the cause. Then personal misery. Then abandonment by friends. Then the liveliness and ill-will of enemies. The result of it all is a heart that trusts the One who struck it, and turns to Him who smites it. Then what was at bottom in the heart comes out: hope in Jehovah.
This silence is not emptiness. The man has handed his whole case to God and rests there.
But faith finds its refuge in the very One who strikes. He, who knows everything, is not indifferent to his desire, nor ignorant of his misery. To Him he turns when he is, as it were, abandoned even by himself. His close friends avoid him as one under the stroke of God. Only his enemies remain, busy with plots against his life. Through it all he is like a man deaf and mute, his mouth stopped, as one standing before God. He holds himself in and makes no reproof, though their wickedness is plain. But he has left everything with God, in whom he anchors himself and is at rest. God shall answer for him.
Commentators differ on whose voice this is. Some read the psalm as the voice of God's suffering people. The Spirit of Christ shapes their words.
The condition is the condition of Israel under the heavy hand of God's chastening. The sentiments are the sentiments of the chosen remnant — and so, in spirit, morally true of any soul in such a case. It is a soul confessing the sin in faith, and sure that God will hear. This certainty is expressed for them by the Spirit of Christ, who fully enters into their case.
Others take the Lord Himself as the proper subject, and read verse 15 as His own silence under false charges.
He endured great hostility from sinners against Himself. He appealed to the conscience of those who hated Him without cause: "Which one of you convicts me of sin?" None answered Him. Yet the mouth of Jesus was empty of reproof. He did not quarrel or cry out, though right was on His side alone. He committed Himself to Him who judges righteously. His God would hear Him in due time.
The same silence belongs to believers now. Keeping quiet does not mean the wrong goes unanswered.
If we keep silent when people insult us, it is not that evil and malice have no answer. It is that we leave the answer with God. We are never to try to take vengeance on the wrongdoer. God keeps all vengeance in His own hands.
- Struck — the sufferer traces his pain to God's chastening hand and owns it as coming from God.
- Silent — knowing he has sinned, he offers his accusers no reply, because the reply is not his to make.
- Hoping — he turns for rescue to the very One who is striking him; this is the mark of faith and a right mind.
- Anchored — having left everything with God, he is at rest, certain that God will answer for him.
- Answered — the same confidence carries into Christ's silence under false charges, and into ours. Leave the answer with God, who keeps all vengeance in His own hands.
For I said, Let them not rejoice over me! When my foot slipped, they magnified [themselves] against me.
The psalmist prays for more than his own relief: he dreads what his fall will let his enemies say. He is under God's chastening for his own sin, and the failure he confesses has become a weapon for the people watching him.
Two pressures land on him at once — God's hand in discipline and men's mockery from outside. One thing keeps the load from crushing him.
Insults and jeers from other people are hard to bear. When the one being taunted is also suffering under God's hand, the trial is especially heavy. It would be unbearable if he could not open his heart to God. This is what he does. He tells God his hope, and asks Him not to let his enemies rejoice over him.
They pounce on the slip, but the slip is only their excuse. What they hate is something else.
First, the attitude of the enemies, ready to use every slip of his to exalt themselves by it… And what had humbled him and cast him down had also strengthened and multiplied his enemies, who persecuted him in fact, not for the failure he confessed, but for the good which, despite the failure, he had really followed. We all know how common this is. Some people hide plain hatred of righteousness under a cloak of righteousness! But how bitter to the soul are those sins of the righteous which give them the opportunity they wanted!
The slip does more than expose him to ridicule. It shows him what he is: a man ready to stumble.
The enemy, with no love for good and no hatred of evil, uses the slip of the godly man as an occasion to rejoice in his fall and to magnify himself. As for the godly man, his sin has made him realise his own weakness, as one ready to stumble. He is always conscious of his sin, and grieves over it.
Asking God not to let his enemies gloat could slide into self-defence. It does not. He asks God to act, and admits he deserves what he is getting.
How can a person confess his sin and still look to God for help? He has been unfaithful. He has dishonoured God. The enemy is triumphing over it. No excuse, no attempt to hide — none: he owns it all, and casts himself on God. The picture of the faithful few would not have been complete without this, nor would the gracious instruction for every soul at every time.
The enemies are betting on collapse. The answer comes from a scene on the water with Peter, one of Jesus' disciples.
It was not his sin the enemies hated, but his faith in the living God. If his foot slipped, they took advantage of this to mock his faith and magnify themselves, though their sins were worse than his (v. 16). He says he is ready to fall (v. 17). Will he fall? No — no more than Peter went under when he began to sink (Matt. 14:29-31).
Some have read these words as spoken by Jesus in His sufferings. One writer rejected that, and pointed to the slipping foot in the verse.
Is suffering done in the place of others, if we ourselves may pass through the same thing and doubt our own final deliverance, as some say Jesus feared for His? Did the Lord slip in our place? No, reader. What you have here is the fruit of a teaching I oppose, published as if it were piety.
- Slip. His failure is real and he confesses it. He never claims the discipline is unfair.
- Seized. Enemies use the slip as a lever to lift themselves — but their true target is the good he follows, not the sin he admits.
- Searched. The slip showed him his own weakness; he stays conscious of his sin and grieves over it.
- Sustained. Ready to fall is not the same as falling; Peter began to sink and still did not go under.
- Sought. He casts himself on God with no excuse and nothing hidden. Writers call this instruction for any believer in the same place.
For I am ready to halt, and my pain is continually before me.
Psalm 38 is the prayer of a sick man under God's chastening hand, left by his friends and mocked by enemies who enjoy watching him stumble. In verse 17 he admits out loud that he is about to fall and that the pain never leaves him — so what does a believer do with that admission?
The psalm's setting is God's discipline for sin. It falls on the remnant — the faithful few in Israel — and is felt in the body and in the soul.
In these psalms God's disciplinary rebuke for sins rests on the remnant, and they feel why they are suffering at His hand… The rod has reached the flock on the outside and their soul on the inside. Friends drew back from a case like this. Enemies feel no pity and plot against his life. Still he is before Jehovah, and so is all his desire and groaning… He will bow under it. His enemies are busy and strong. But though Jehovah strikes him, he trusts Him, because the humble soul owns that the striking is righteous.
Older translations read "I am ready to halt" — a man limping, ready to go down at any step. The failure itself taught him this about himself.
As for the godly man, his sin has made him realize his own weakness, as one ready to fall. He is always aware of his sin, and he grieves over it. His enemies use his sin as their excuse to persecute him — not because of his failure, though, but because he follows what is good.
But being ready to fall is not the same as falling:
"For I am ready to fall," he says (v. 17). Will he fall? No, no more than Peter would sink when he began to sink (Matt. 14:29-31). And though his sorrow was continual, yet he would declare his iniquity and be in anguish concerning it (v. 18). This in itself is half the battle, so that the trial is about to bear fruit in blessing.
Others are waiting for the slip, and their motive is not hatred of the sin.
First, there is the attitude of the enemies. They are ready to use every slip of his to lift themselves up by it. Then there is the man himself. He is so aware of how ready he is to fall. His failure has humbled and discouraged him. He cannot hide the reality of his sin, and his soul trembles at it… His enemies persecuted him, in fact, not for the failure he confessed, but for the good he had truly followed despite that failure… But they use these things to their own ruin, while God uses them to humble His people, so that He may step in for them.
Two griefs land at once: God's hand and men's mockery.
The insults and jeers of men are hard to bear. When the man who is taunted is also suffering under God's hand, the trial will be very heavy. It would be unbearable, in fact, if he could not open his heart to God. This he does. He says that he hopes in Jehovah and that the Lord his God will hear him, "For I am ready to fall, and my pain is ever before me." Then he says he will declare his iniquity and be sorry for his sin.
The sorrow that stays with him does not stay silent. It comes out as confession.
He sees it as the hand of the Lord. He bows under it and hopes in the Lord, who would hear him… He would declare his iniquity and be sorry for his sin. In short, he no longer keeps silence, and there is no deceit in his heart now.
The psalm looks on to Israel's future, but it also fits any believer under God's discipline now.
This psalm will surely bring its own comfort to the godly Jew when he is awakened in a coming day to feel its value. But it also fits the Christian who is suffering under the chastening hand of the Lord for folly and sin. That is the time to hold on to confidence in Him… We can cry even then, Abba, Father.
- Weakness owned. "Ready to fall" is not a report of collapse. It is a confession that sin has taught him how little he can stand on his own.
- Weakness kept in view. The pain that never leaves breaks the silence. He declares his sin instead of hiding it, and that is half the battle won.
- Weakness exploited. Enemies use every slip to lift themselves up. They hate not his failure but the good he still follows. God uses the same slip to humble His people, so that He can step in for them.
- Weakness brought to God. The taunts would be unbearable if he had no one to open his heart to. He bows under the rod because he owns that the striking is righteous.
- Weakness answered. Discipline does not break the relationship. It is the very time to trust Him, and the Christian can cry even then: Abba, Father.
For I will declare mine iniquity, I am grieved for my sin.
The words of this verse come late in a psalm of deep distress. The sufferer has already spoken of wounds, weakness, deserting friends and watching enemies. Now he stops making excuses and puts his own sin into words before God.
One writer sets the confession between two pressures: the Lord's hand striking him, and enemies who were glad when he slipped.
He will bow under it. His enemies are busy and strong. But though the Lord smites, he trusts Him, because the humble soul owns the smiting to be righteous. But he can look for deliverance from his enemies. They were glad when he slipped and rejoiced over him. But he declares and owns his sin: no excuse — no hiding in his soul from God. His cry is to Him for speedy help.
Before he names his sin, he names whose hand is on him. One writer treats that order as the sign that this man is sound.
Yet the soul is in the depth of sorrow and distress, and sees this as the chastening of the Lord. The soul is under it, but asks to be spared it. That is: he is in deep distress and sorrow, with a sickening disease, with friends abandoning him and enemies active (in part like Job's condition) — and in it he looks to the Lord. The heart attributes it all to sin, but first of all looks to the Lord and His hand. It is this that shows faith and a right mind.
The verse names two moves: declaring the sin, and grieving over it. One writer treats that as the turning point of the trial.
And though his sorrow was continual, yet he would declare his iniquity and be in anguish concerning it (v. 18). This in itself is half the battle. So the trial is about to bear fruit in blessing — even though his enemies are strong and active, and those who hate him grow in number (v. 19).
Honest confession does not silence the critics. It hands them material — and one writer notes the bitter twist in what they attack.
He too was so conscious of his readiness to stumble. He was humbled and discouraged by his failure — the reality of his sin, which he could not hide, and at which his soul trembled. And what had humbled him and cast him down had also strengthened and multiplied his enemies. They persecuted him, in fact, not for the failure he confessed, but for the good he had followed despite that failure… But they use these sins to their own ruin, while God uses them to humble His people, so that He may step in for them.
Commentators differ on whose voice these words carry. Some read the psalm as the story of a believer who fails and comes under God's discipline. Others hear David's confession on the lips of a greater speaker.
The sorrow of Christ for my sin! The grief and mourning of the Son of God, who, as the gracious bearer of His people's sins, discloses to the Searcher of hearts the root of bitterness as His own. "My sin" — "my iniquities" — "my foolishness" — "I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for my sin" (verses 3, 4, 5, 18). David's deep sorrow over his own guilt supplies the words for the lips of his Divine Son, who came into the world to die as David's substitute and ours.
Confessed sin does not weaken a claim on God; it sharpens it. One writer finds the proof of that in the psalm's last words.
The unerring government of God will make no mistake. He knows, after all, those who own Him as God — their God — and who cling to Him as Saviour, aware of their own weakness and worthlessness. Their sins cannot make them need Him as Saviour any less, nor change the Unchangeable… So the cry that ends the psalm carries these signs of answer and acceptance, simple as they are: "Lord my God", "Lord, my salvation"! Anyone who can cry from the heart like this will surely find God to be no less than his faith believes Him to be.
- Hand — He looks first at whose hand is on him, then at the sin behind it; that order is what shows faith and a right mind.
- Words — Declaring iniquity means no excuse and no hiding it from God; he still trusts the hand that strikes him.
- Sorrow — Grief over the sin itself, not just its results, is half the battle. The trial is about to bear fruit in blessing.
- Enemies — Confession hands opponents ammunition. Yet they attack the good he follows, not the failure he owns. God uses it all to humble His people so He can step in for them.
- Salvation — Sin does not lessen the need for God; it proves it. The psalm closes on "my God" and "my salvation" — the marks of a cry God has heard.
But mine enemies are lively, they are strong; and they that hate me wrongfully are multiplied
A man under God's chastening looks up from his own sickness and sin. He finds his enemies strong, growing in number, and hating him for no reason. That raises the hardest question in this psalm. He has just owned his guilt before God. On what ground can he still ask God to act against them?
The psalm's suffering has two sources, and they are not the same. One writer separates them. The psalmist's own failure began the discipline. Then enemies who cared nothing for that failure made it heavier.
But God will not answer without putting His servant under trial. This trial began because of the sin of His servant, but the hatred of enemies increased it. It was not his sin the enemies hated, but his faith in the living God. If his foot slipped, they used it to mock his faith and make themselves look great, though their own sins were worse than his… The trial is about to bear fruit in blessing, even though his enemies are strong and vigorous, and even though those who hate him grow in number.
The same blow that flattened him seemed to feed them. Their real quarrel, though, was not with the fault he had owned.
The very thing that humbled him and cast him down had also made his enemies stronger and more numerous. In fact they persecuted him not for the failure he confessed, but for the good he had truly followed despite that failure. This is common, as we all know. People hide behind a cloak of righteousness what is really hatred of righteousness itself! But how bitter to the soul are those sins of the righteous which give them the opportunity they wanted! Yet they use these to their own ruin, while God uses them to the humbling of His people, so that He may come in for them.
Here is the answer to the question the verse raises. Once a man has judged his own sin before God, he can look at his persecutors differently. He stops seeing them as God's judgment pressing on him. He sees them in their own malice.
By grace the soul separates sin from itself and judges it. It can then separate its enemies too, so to speak, from the pressing judgments of Jehovah. Seeing them only in their own malice and hostility — hostility to the servant of Jehovah and to what was right — it can now look for Jehovah's help against them. The believer had sinned badly, and God had rightly brought him low for it. Yet he had truly followed what was good. Jehovah did use the malice of the wicked as a rod. But what the wicked hated in the saints was not evil; it was their link with the Lord and their owning of Him.
Being mocked is hard. Being mocked while God's hand is heavy on you is harder still. One writer notes what this sufferer does with the taunts.
In the face of these enemies he is like a deaf man who does not hear, and like a mute man who does not open his mouth, though he confesses his sins to God and hopes in Him. The insults and jeers of men are hard to bear. When the one taunted is also suffering under God's hand, the trial will be very heavy. It would be unbearable if he could not open his heart to God.
The complaint does not end with one man. One writer finds the same charge — enemies who hate wrongfully — on the lips of Christ at the cross.
He had no sin of His own to confess.
Moreover, His enemies were many and were strong.
- Two hands. God's chastening hand starts the trial; human hatred enlarges it. Do not confuse the two.
- Wrong target. They persecute him not for the sin he confessed, but for the good he followed. It is hatred of righteousness dressed up as concern for it.
- Same event, two uses. Enemies use a believer's fall for their own ruin; God uses it to humble His people so He may step in for them.
- Confession frees the appeal. Judging your own sin separates your case from theirs. Then you can ask God for help against them without excusing yourself.
- The pattern completed. What the psalmist felt in part, Christ knew in full — hated wrongfully, His enemies many and strong, with no fault of His own.
And they that render evil for good are adversaries unto me; because I pursue what is good.
A man already broken under God's discipline for his own sin meets a second grief: people repay his kindness with harm. Why does doing right invite attack, and what can a sufferer say when he is not innocent before God?
The sufferer has confessed real sin earlier in this psalm. One writer separates what his enemies claim to oppose from what they oppose in fact:
The same thing that humbled him and cast him down had also strengthened and multiplied his enemies. They persecuted him, in fact, not for the failure which he confessed, but for the good which, despite the failure, he had really followed. We all know how common such conduct is! These people would gladly hide under a cloak of righteousness what is mere hatred of righteousness itself. But how bitter to the soul are those sins of the righteous which give them the opportunity they wanted! They use these to their own ruin, while God uses them to humble His people, so that He may come in for them.
The two halves of the psalm can look contradictory — deep confession of sin, then a claim to follow good. One commentator shows how both can be true at once:
Of course, it was painful for him to consider that he had adversaries who made a practice of paying back evil for good. But this was only part of the trial that God allowed him, because in reality of truth he followed what is good (v. 20). Notice in all of this that he honestly confesses before God his guilt in dishonouring Him. Yet his guilt did not include any bad actions toward others.
Commentators differ on who is speaking here. Some read the psalm as the experience of a faithful group in Israel under God's discipline. One writer follows that reading to Christ:
They are the group who, in the middle of trial, "follow the thing that good is." Now that was Christ's place. He sorrowed in the sorrow of Israel, and suffered the suffering of Israel. But His soul was with God about it. Yet the effect of His righteous path was to bring trial upon Him, and to leave Him forsaken. The Lord left Him there until all was complete.
(The older translation quoted here reads "I follow the thing that good is." The ESV reads "I follow after good.")
Another writer reads the whole psalm — the confession of sin and the claim of goodness — as words for Christ, who came as our substitute:
David's personal sorrow for his own deep guilt supplies the language for the lips of his Divine Son, when, as his substitute and ours, He had come into the world to die. But right beside these strangest yet most blessed words we find (verse 20) the Sufferer appealing to the God of judgment out of perfect goodness and spotless righteousness... He endured the hostility of sinners against Himself. "Which one of you convicts me of sin?" was His fruitless appeal to the conscience of those who hated Him without cause. Yet the mouth of Jesus was empty of reproof. He did not quarrel or cry out, though right was on His side alone. He committed Himself to Him who judges righteously.
The pattern in this verse did not end with the psalm. One writer explains why a life aimed at what is good provokes people:
This world hated the light as it shone in Christ; and the Lord says, "If they have hated Me, they will also hate you."... The light is hated and persecuted, whether in Christ or in His followers. The fruit of the light is in all goodness, and righteousness, and truth. These qualities are foreign to the nature of fallen men. So those who walk with God are a constant rebuke to worldly people, and must experience hatred and persecution in this world.
- Good followed. The sufferer's one stated offence is that he pursues what is good — the same path that was "Christ's place."
- Good repaid. His enemies return evil for that good, and attack him not for the sin he confessed but for the good he kept following.
- Good confessed. He owns his guilt before God without excuse. Yet that guilt included no wrong done to others — honest with God, clear with people.
- Good hated. Hostility often wears "a cloak of righteousness" while it is really hatred of righteousness itself. The world hates the light wherever it shines.
- Good vindicated. He gives back no reproof. He commits his case to the God who judges rightly — the answer commentators see perfected in Christ.
Forsake me not, Jehovah; O my God, be not far from me.
Psalm 38 is the prayer of a believer under God's discipline for his own sin. Everyone else has left him, and his last plea raises a real question: can a man who has just confessed his sin ask God to stay close?
Many psalms trace the sufferer's trouble back to the sin of the nation. This one does not.
In Psalms 38—39 the Lord deals with a believer as the direct result of that believer's own sin and failure. The trouble does not come from the sin of the nation, as it does in many other psalms. These experiences of a soul under chastening no doubt picture what the faithful few among the Jews will go through in a later day. At the same time they hold important principles for any believer who fails, at any time.
The prayer follows a full confession. He hides nothing and excuses nothing, and that honesty is what frees him to ask.
He accepts the punishment of his iniquity, and places himself openly before God, owning his sin, but looking to Him against the wicked. However sad such a case may be, nothing more shows truth before God and confidence in Him. How can a person confess his sin and still look to God for help? He has been unfaithful, God has been dishonoured, and the enemy is triumphing in it. No excuse, no hiding — none: he owns it all, and casts himself on God.
Sin on the conscience makes such a prayer hard. It does not close the door.
An important principle in this Psalm — the difficulty of looking to the Lord for deliverance from the wicked, when sin is on the conscience. Still, God is the refuge from the enemy. It is beautiful to see this integrity of heart, when he has not a word to say for himself.
People have already walked away from him. His confidence is that God will not.
(vv. 21-22) All may have forsaken him, but his confidence is that the Lord will not forsake him. He looks to the Lord for help and deliverance.
Did he even need to pray this? One writer says no — and then explains why he pleaded, "be not far from me."
It seems almost unnecessary for him to ask the Lord not to forsake him. God would not forsake someone who opens his heart before Him. But we can understand why he pleads like this when we think of his anguish in the bitter experience he has faced (v. 21). Was God far from him? No, not at all, though he had felt so.
He does not plead his record. He pleads the relationship he still holds — "O my God," and then, in the next verse, "my salvation." (Older translations print God's name here as "Jehovah.")
So the psalmist turns to Him once more. The unerring government of God will make no mistake. He knows those who own Him as God, their God. They feel their own weakness and worthlessness, and they cling to Him as Saviour. Their sins cannot make their need of Him as Saviour any less. Nor can their sins change the One who never changes. He was never deceived about them from the start, and He took this place of relationship toward them for no good He found in them. So the cry that ends the psalm carries these signs of answer and acceptance, simple as they are: "Jehovah my God", "Lord, my salvation"! Anyone who can cry like that from the heart will certainly find God to be no less than his faith counts Him to be.
The psalmist asks for something God has since put in writing for the Christian.
He knows the Lord has helped him in times past. So he asks that the Lord will not leave or forsake him in the days to come, even if the closest people on earth forsake him. The Lord has said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." So the Christian can "confidently say, 'The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?'" (Hebrews 13:5-6).
- Cause. The suffering here is God's chastening on a believer for his own sin and failure — not someone else's.
- Confession. He offers no excuse and hides nothing. That open heart is what lets him pray boldly, with sin still on his conscience.
- Contrast. Everyone else may have left him. He is sure the Lord will not.
- Claim. He argues from relationship, not from merit: "my God," "my salvation." God does not change toward those who cling to Him in weakness.
- Certainty. He felt God was far off, though He was not. The Christian has God's plain promise: "I will never leave you nor forsake you."
Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation.
Psalm 38 ends with a sick man. His friends have deserted him, his enemies hunt him, and he admits his own sin. His last words ask God to hurry. Two questions follow. Why does a man God has not left still beg Him not to leave? And how can a man in the wrong ask the God who is disciplining him for help?
The psalm speaks for the remnant — the faithful few among God's people — under discipline they accept as deserved. The last verse turns that acceptance into a cry for quick help.
In these psalms God's government rebukes the remnant for their sins. They feel why they suffer under God's hand… He will bow under it. His enemies are busy and strong. Though Jehovah strikes him, he trusts Him. The humble soul owns that the striking is righteous. But he can look for deliverance from his enemies… His cry is to Him for speedy help.
It seems strange to fail God and then ask God for rescue. That very difficulty is what makes this psalm beautiful.
It is a beautiful psalm for the state of soul it shows. The Spirit provides for every case — even the failure of an upright man. Such failure may bring down severe chastening and give joy to the wicked. But he accepts the punishment of his iniquity. He places himself openly before God, owning his sin, yet still looking to Him against the wicked… How can someone confess his sin and look to God for help? He has been unfaithful. He has dishonoured God. The enemy is triumphing in it. He makes no excuse. He tries to hide nothing at all. He owns it all and casts himself on God.
Everyone has left him except his enemies. Faith still has one place to go.
But in the very One who smites, faith finds its refuge. He, who knows everything, is not indifferent to his desire, nor unaware of his misery. He turns to Him even when he feels forsaken by himself. His close friends avoid him as a man under God's stroke. Only his enemies remain, busy with plots against his life… But he has left it all to God. In Him he anchors himself and is at rest. God will answer for him.
The psalm's closing cry names God twice: my God, my salvation. Those names carry the answer inside them.
The unerring government of God will make no mistake. He knows, after all, those who own Him as God, their God, who cling in the consciousness of weakness and worthlessness to Him as Saviour. Their sins cannot make their need of Him as Saviour any less. Nor can their sins change the Unchangeable. He was never deceived about them from the start, and He took up this relationship with them for no good in them at all. So the cry that ends the psalm carries these tokens — simple as they are — of answer and acceptance: "Jehovah my God", "Lord, my salvation"! The one who can cry from the heart like this will certainly find God to be no less than his faith counts Him.
The plea can sound unnecessary. God had not moved away — but the long wait felt like it.
It seems hardly necessary that he should appeal to the Lord not to forsake him. God would not forsake a man who opens his heart before Him. But we can understand why he pleads like this with God. Think of his anguish in the bitter experience he has faced (v. 21). Was God far from him? No, not at all, though he had felt so. The time has seemed so long that he asks, "Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation!" When the full answer comes at last, we will not feel that the suffering was too long.
The suffering here runs through body and soul, as it did with Job.
It pictures great suffering in body and soul; it reminds us in different ways of the book of Job… And the suffering one looks to Jehovah; He is his hope. He confesses his sins, pleads for help… And that cry will always be answered.
Commentators differ on how far the psalm reaches. Some hear in it the voice of a suffering people (J. N. Darby). Gaebelein warns that "great caution is needed in the application of these Psalms to our Lord." Words of sin "could never be true of Him, who knew no sin" (Arno Clemens Gaebelein).
- Owned. He confesses his sin with no excuse and hides nothing. That honesty frees him to ask at all.
- Refuge. The God whose hand is heavy on him is the same God he runs to — faith finds shelter in the One who strikes.
- Claimed. "My God, my salvation" are the tokens of acceptance; sin cannot make the need of a Saviour any less.
- Hastened. He feels far from God, but he is not. The plea for speed comes from anguish and long waiting.
- Answered. God always answers the cry of a suffering, confessing heart. When the full answer comes, the wait will look short.
(To the chief Musician, to Jeduthun. A Psalm of David.) I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I sin not with my tongue I will keep my mouth with a muzzle, while the wicked is before me.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
I was dumb with silence, I held my peace from good; and my sorrow was stirred.
The psalm opens with a resolve to guard the tongue while the wicked are near. This verse records what that resolve cost: he kept silent, and the pain inside only grew.
He is not just facing insults. God is disciplining him for his own failure, and that is why he will not answer back.
In the presence of the wicked the soul stays silent. God is chastening him for his own failure. So it was not fitting for him to reply to their insults, even though he knows their motive is hatred of the godly. He might have answered back, but that would have led him into sinning with his tongue. So he held himself in, and kept quiet, even from speaking good. Still, while he kept silent, his heart burned within him.
Older translations read "I held my peace, even from good," where the ESV has "to no avail." He shut down the angry reply and the honest one alike. The reason is self-distrust.
The sorrow he has fallen into fills the psalmist with thoughts full of question. The wicked are there, always fretting against God, and he is afraid to speak those thoughts out for fear of sin. So he muzzles himself, and is dumb, even as to good, for he dare not trust himself. But the fire in his heart breaks out at last, and he cannot hold back. He speaks, but to the Lord alone.
The stirred-up sorrow is not evidence that the silence was a mistake. One writer names the alternative: letting the spirit rise up and the tongue run. He calls holding back the fitting place, and shows where it leads.
He bows before God rather than let his spirit rise and speak foolishly with his tongue... Restraint, when under the hand of God, was his fitting place. It is always so. He refrains even from good, and sorrow is stirred up in him... At last his heart bursts out; but it is to bring to God the nothingness he has now come to feel so deeply.
The pressure does not stay pointless. Hold nature down, and something else rises. The mouth that opens at last says something quite different from what it would have said at first.
Under provocation, the believer resolves in God's strength to stay silent. At first this stirred and kindled the sorrow within (1, 2). But the Spirit, in due season, brought relief... For this is His way — hold nature back, and the new kingdom rises in power. So it was here. During the silence laid on nature, this warmth of the renewed heart grows, and the silence and self-denial bear good fruit. The lips open — not to insult in return, nor to threaten those he was suffering from, but to commit himself to God. He owns his own unworthiness, and takes all this suffering as from the hand of his gracious God for good.
Several commentators read these verses as reaching beyond David. Jesus had no sin of His own to be chastened for, yet He knew both the silence and the stirred sorrow.
Verses 1-3 seem to express with great force the pure sorrow and righteous distress of soul that belonged to the Holy One. He had to see and hear the filthy talk of the wicked... We read there of Jesus withdrawing to the mountain, to be alone with God. We read of how He sometimes held His peace, while other men were free to pour out the emptiness of their hearts. We read too of the stirring of His sorrow. He turned in amazement from the unbelief and hard hearts that seemed to mock the gracious work of His love.
Silence is not wasted time. It gives room to think, and the thinking is not comfortable.
Our words express what is in our hearts. So he was careful to guard what came out of his mouth, above all while the wicked were present (v. 1). They know how to use a man's words against him. Keeping silence gave him the chance to think soberly, and this stirred up sorrow within him (v. 2)... Is it not important that we too take time to meditate rather than letting our tongues loose?
- Silence. The mouth is muzzled because God's hand is on him for his own failure — answering his critics would only add sin with the tongue.
- Silence even from good. He holds back honest words too, not out of pride but because he dare not trust himself while the questions are burning.
- Silence hurts. The stirred sorrow is not proof that the restraint failed. Restraint under God's hand is the fitting place to be.
- Silence ripens. Hold nature down, and the renewed heart rises. The lips open at last — not to insult back, but to speak to God alone.
- Silence in Christ. Jesus knew both sides of this verse: silence among people whose talk grieved Him, and stirred sorrow at their hard hearts.
My heart burned within me; the fire was kindled in my musing I spoke with my tongue,
David has just told himself to keep his mouth shut while the wicked are in front of him. Verse 3 shows what that silence cost him: the pressure built inside until it broke out in speech. So why did a godly man stay quiet, what was the fire, and who did he speak to at last?
The silence was not indifference. One writer links it to David's own place under God's discipline. That discipline made a reply to his critics unfitting:
In the presence of the wicked the soul stays dumb. God is chastening him for his own failure. So it was not fitting for him to reply to their reproaches, even though he knows their motive is hatred of the godly. He might have answered back, but that would have led him into sinning with his tongue. So he restrained himself and held his peace, even from speaking good. Still, while keeping silent, his heart burned within him.
Held-in speech does not stay held in. When it came out, it went to God and not to the onlookers:
The sorrow he is plunged into stirs up thoughts full of question. The wicked are in front of him, always fretting against God. So he is afraid to speak those thoughts, for fear of sin. So he muzzles himself and is dumb, even as to good, for he dare not trust himself. But the fire in his heart breaks out at last, and he cannot hold back. He speaks — but to the Lord alone.
The pause was not wasted time. It matured a sense of his own smallness, and that is what he brings to God when he opens his mouth:
He bows before God rather than let his spirit rise and speak foolishly with his tongue. He might have answered back — been provoked into evil. But restraint was his fitting place while he was under the hand of God. It is always so. He holds back even from good, and sorrow is stirred up in him. In beautiful language he shows this. At last his heart bursts out; but it is to present to God the nothingness which he had come to feel so deeply.
Read across the whole psalm, the silence changes character:
Separation from evil silences his outward testimony (vv. 1, 2). But through it he learns his own nothingness deeply (vv. 4, 5). He is taught this way that man's highest honours and richest stores are only a breath. So his silence now comes from another cause (v. 9) — submission to the will of God and confidence in Him.
Commentators differ over whether this psalm pictures Christ. One writer applies verse 3 to Jesus, and points to what He saw around Him:
Because He was the faithful witness of the truth, the heart of Jesus burned to speak the words of God (verse 3). He met God-dishonouring hypocrisy in the very place where truth and righteousness were supposed to live. That sight drew out His testimony of holy indignation, and His warning of judgment against that way of evil. In that way only destruction and misery are found.
The verse also gives a picture of musing — turning a matter over in the mind — and what it does to a cold heart:
Meditation is the bellows of the affections. We light affection at this fire of meditation — "As I mused, the fire burned" (Ps. 39:3). Being enlightened makes us shining lamps; meditation makes us burning lamps.
That leaves a practical question: what part is ours?
Only be careful to provide fuel, gather matter for meditation, set your thoughts to work on it, and the Spirit of God will kindle your affections. "As I mused," says David, "the fire burned" (Ps. 39:3).
The order of the verse — musing first, speech last — sets the pattern for anyone who has something of God to say:
It is right to be careful about our doctrine, but our danger lies in being correct and cold. When the love of God to a guilty world is our theme, it must burn in our souls like a fire… Only musing in the presence of God can produce this state of heart, for it was "As I mused, the fire burned; then I spoke with my tongue" (Ps. 39:3).
- Silence — He held back, and not for lack of an answer. Answering his critics under God's hand would have meant sinning with his tongue.
- Fire — Suppressed sorrow does not cool; it heats. The pressure inside is the honest cost of not hitting back.
- Direction — When the fire broke out at last, it broke toward God alone. He laid his own nothingness before Him.
- Fuel — Musing is the fuel; the Spirit supplies the flame. Being enlightened makes a lamp shine; meditation makes it burn.
- Speech — Speech that has passed through silence is worth hearing. Skip the fire, and words come out correct and cold.
Make me to know, Jehovah, mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is I shall know how frail I am.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Behold, thou hast made my days [as] hand-breadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before thee; verily, every man, [even] the high placed, is altogether vanity. Selah.
The psalmist breaks a long silence, and what he asks God for is the measure of his own days. The answer is not comfort but a measurement: a lifetime is a few handbreadths, and even a man at his best is only a breath.
This prayer is not idle curiosity. Two pressures produce it.
When at length he speaks, it is to the Lord. His own failure brings home to the godly soul how frail man is. So does the wickedness of men, who use the failure of God's people as their chance to exalt themselves. Through this trial he wants to learn the shortness of life, the weakness of the flesh, and the vanity of the world.
A handbreadth is the width of a hand — the smallest ruler a man carries with him. Set against God, that measure shrinks to nothing. What alarms the psalmist is not only his frailty but how little he feels it.
He cries out to know his end, his days that are measured, and yet he does not know the measure. His frailty alarms him, and how little he realizes that frailty alarms him too. His days are only handbreadths. God has fixed their limit — a short space that is nothing before the Eternal. It is the common condition of man: take the most stable, what is he? A puff of air — a breath.
The lesson lands hardest on the confident, and the New Testament repeats the verdict. These writers quote older translations: where the ESV says all mankind is "a mere breath," they read "every man at his best state is altogether vanity," or "but vapour."
If we think we are capable, let us consider the measure of our days. Old age exposes how useless our ability was! And sickness often comes before old age. Our frailty is always with us, however strong we think we are. Verse 5 shows that our age is as nothing, even if it runs to 100 years — and "every man at his best state is but vapour." James 4:14 confirms it: "For what is your life? It is even a vapour that appears for a little time and then vanishes away."
The verse does not measure the worst of men. It picks the finest sample available and weighs that.
So we take up the great men of earth to see what is in man. We take the best sample, a man in whom natural character, opportunity and education have combined to produce the nearest thing to perfection. Having learned what he is, we remember that most of humanity are only poor samples of the same class.
One writer sees the verse proved in the prophet Isaiah.
Here we see the statement shown true, "Verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity" (Ps. 39:5). This happened to Isaiah in the year King Uzziah died — one of the better kings, who ended his days a leper because he dared to push his way into the temple of God. Standing before God in His temple, Isaiah confessed that he was unclean, and at once the way of cleansing appeared. A live coal, which had touched the sacrifice, was put to his lips, and his sin and uncleanness were taken away. Only sacrifice can cleanse sin; a foreshadowing of the death of Christ.
Short days make everything inside them unreal — including the savings a man cannot keep.
Then the unreality this gives to things, even while they last! Vain worry; vain heaping up of what must soon be left to others, he knows not whom. This is a well-worn story, but we are certainly actors in it, so its familiarity must not lessen our interest.
The psalm does not stop at the bleak sum. Reaching zero frees the man to look elsewhere.
At last his heart bursts out; but it is to bring to God the nothingness he has now come to feel. He desires to know his days. How little he is! He sees that all is vanity. But he also sees his own transgression and sin in the presence of One whose rebuke consumes the beauty of man like a moth… There is great beauty when vanity finds its level in coming to nothing, and then trusting God to deliver from the pride of men.
"Every man" is a total verdict, and only one Man stands outside it.
Satan's influence enslaved every other man. Christ lived by the word of God, and He defeated him completely (Matt. 4:1-10). "Every man at his best state is altogether vanity" (Psalm 39:5). The children of men have become "altogether filthy" (Psalm 53:3). But He is "altogether lovely" (Song of Solomon 5:16).
- Measured — Life is a handbreadth. Even a hundred years is nothing to God, and the danger is how little we notice it.
- Best — The verse tests the best of us, not the worst. If the peak is a breath, the rest are poorer samples of the same class.
- Empty — Short days make worry and hoarding empty. A man piles up what he must leave to someone unknown.
- Level — Coming to nothing is not despair. The man who reaches zero stops defending himself and trusts God to deliver him.
- Altogether — Every man at his best is altogether vanity. Christ alone is altogether lovely, and only sacrifice can cleanse.
Verily, man walketh in a vain show; verily they are disquieted in vain; he heapeth up [riches], and knoweth not who shall gather them.
The psalmist has kept silent under God's discipline. When he speaks at last, he speaks only to God, and asks Him to show how short his days are. Verse 6 is his verdict on the whole human scene: a shadow moving about, noise over nothing, wealth piled up for a stranger. (Older translations render the lines "vain show" and "disquieted in vain.")
This is not detached philosophy. It is what a man sees after his own failure, and the pride of others, have humbled him.
When at last he speaks, it is to the Lord. His own failure brings home to the godly soul how frail man is. So does the wickedness of men, who use the failure of God's people as their chance to exalt themselves. He would gladly learn through this trial the shortness of life, the weakness of the flesh, and the vanity of the world. It is only a vain show. Men put themselves to endless trouble to heap up riches that they have to leave behind.
The picture is not of something evil. It is of something with nothing in it.
Verse 6 uses another comparison: everyone walks like a shadow. Of course, a shadow has no substance, and in the same way our lives have no lasting substance, for we are here and gone. We occupy ourselves with temporal things, which are really in vain. We heap up riches. What for? Whoever inherits them will find the same experience of futility!
One writer reads the verse as a portrait gallery — three lives, sometimes mixed in one person, more often each running its own course.
In Psalm 39:6 we have three great types of character: the "vain show," the "vain disquiet" and the "heaping up." Sometimes these types are combined in one person. Very often each one develops on its own.
The second type is the person in turmoil over nothing. Here is what that looks like from the inside.
You will never find them at ease — never satisfied, never happy. There is always some terrible thing coming, some catastrophe in the distance. The mere thought of it keeps them in a constant fever of anxiety. They are troubled about property, about friends, about trade, about children, about servants… They worry themselves about troubles that may never come, difficulties they may never meet, and sorrows they may never live to see. They do not remember the blessings of the past or rejoice in the mercies of the present. Instead they look ahead to the trials and sorrows of the future.
The third type is the one nobody would call a dreamer.
Finally, you will meet another class, quite different from the first two. They are keen, shrewd, hard-working, money-making people who would live where others would starve. There is not much "vain show" about them. They are too solid, and life is too practical a reality for anything of that sort. Neither can you say there is much disquiet about them… "They heap up, and know not who shall gather."
Everyone knows this ending. Knowing it is not the same as escaping it.
Then think of the unreality this gives to things, even while they last! vain disquiet; vain heaping up of what soon has to be left to others, he does not know whom. This is a familiar story; but we are too certainly actors in it to let its familiarity dull its interest for us.
One writer turns to Jesus, who watched people wear themselves out for what they could not enjoy.
The sixth verse of this Psalm is full of deep and mournful power. Jesus knew the rest of the Father's bosom. He had come out to reveal Him, and He offered Himself as the open door into that rest. He might well marvel, then, to see the vain disquiet of the men of this world. He saw them working hard to heap up what they could not hope to enjoy. They were working hard for death… "You refuse to come to me that you may have life," was the complaint of the One who stood ready to give the gift of God.
If nothing here holds the heart, the search has to move somewhere else.
But remember, on all three alike the Spirit has stamped "vanity."… Turn where you will "under the sun" and you will not find anything the heart can rest on. You must rise on the steady, strong wing of faith to regions "above the sun." There you will find "a better and an enduring substance."… Only Jesus can give "substance." Only He can "fill." Only He can "satisfy."
- Shadow. A shadow moves, but it has nothing in it — the verse says our lives, and the things we fill them with, have no lasting substance.
- Show. One life is all display — the "vain show." It looks like something, and there is nothing solid behind it.
- Stir. Others are never at ease, worrying over troubles that may never come instead of counting present mercies — turmoil over nothing.
- Stockpile. The hardest-headed look the most solid of all, yet they heap up wealth and do not know who will gather it.
- Substance. Nothing under the sun holds the heart; faith rises above it to Christ, who alone gives substance, fills, and satisfies.
And now, what wait I for, Lord? my hope is in thee.
Psalm 39 is the prayer of a man under God's chastening hand. He has measured how short and empty life is, and in verse 7 he asks what he is waiting for — his answer is not a thing but a Person.
The psalm's opening restraint is not weakness. The sense of his own nothingness builds until it breaks out — and when it does, it goes upward to God.
He bows before God rather than let his spirit rise and speak foolishly with his tongue. He might have retorted — been fretted to do evil; but restraint, when under the hand of God, was his fitting place. It is ever so... At last his heart bursts out; but it is to present to God the nothingness of which the sense was thus matured.
"For what do I wait?" is not just a turn of phrase. The heart is always waiting for something.
The human heart is very much like the poor lame man at the gate of the temple in Acts 3. He was looking at every passer-by "expecting to receive something." And the heart will always be looking out for some relief, some comfort or some enjoyment in passing circumstances.
Asking it honestly is uncomfortable, and that is exactly its use.
So it matters, in practice, to turn sharply round on the heart often with the question, "What am I waiting for?" No doubt the true answer would at times give the most advanced Christian material for deep humbling and self-judgment before the Lord.
The verse before lists three ways of living: empty display, restless worry, and piling up wealth. The second one never rests.
Then we find another class whose life is one long scene of "vain disquietude." You will never find them at ease — never satisfied, never happy. There is always some terrible thing coming... They worry themselves about troubles that may never come, difficulties they may never meet, sorrows they may never live to see. Instead of remembering the blessings of the past and rejoicing in the mercies of the present, they are anticipating the trials and sorrows of the future.
The second half of the verse answers the question. The psalmist does not find a better thing to wait for; he finds Someone.
Well might the psalmist, having challenged his heart with the question, "What am I waiting for?" reply, "My hope is in You." No "vain show," no "vain disquietude," no "heaping up" for him. He had found an object in God worth waiting for. So, turning his eye away from everything else, he says, "My hope is in You."
That one exception is what makes the verse beautiful.
Verse 7 is beautiful. "And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You." Everything else the saint waits for in this short life down here is vanity — except the Lord.
The word behind "wait" here is not passive daydreaming. The Greek Old Testament uses the same term the New Testament uses for holding out under pressure.
hupomone (from hupomeno, "to sustain")... it is a "patient endurance" that does not give way under trial and suffering (compare Ps. 39:7, where "what wait I for" is hupomone in the Septuagint)... the Lord Jesus in the place He has taken as Man is our perfect example in it (Heb. 12:2-3). He "endured" the cross, and the hostility of sinners against Himself.
Hope fixed on God turns at once into asking. The man who waits for the Lord asks Him to deal with the sin that brought the trouble.
The godly soul looks beyond the "vain show" to the Lord, the One for whom he waits, and in whom is all his hope. To the Lord he looks for deliverance from his transgressions, as well as from the reproaches of the foolish that they have brought on him. He dared not defend himself, for the Lord had sent the blow. He who sent it alone can remove it.
One writer applies verse 7 to the Christian, who is left in the world without belonging to it:
The Christian has no rightful expectation from the world, but a daily changing succession of trouble. We are saved by hope... His calling is to endure, as a companion of the patience and kingdom of Jesus Christ.
- Emptied first. A man who has measured his life and found it short asks this question. The sense of his own nothingness is what drives him to speak to God.
- Ask it. "What am I waiting for?" is a question to turn back on your own heart often; the honest answer humbles even mature believers.
- Named next. Waiting is never neutral. Whatever the heart waits for instead of the Lord, this psalm has already called it vanity.
- One exception. Everything else in this short life is vanity except the Lord. So hope is not a wish; it is an object worth waiting for.
- Then endure. The word for waiting means patient endurance under pressure. Christ is the perfect example. And this waiting turns into prayer for deliverance from sin.
Deliver me from all my transgressions; make me not the reproach of the foolish.
The psalmist has been holding his tongue while the wicked watch him suffer, and when he speaks at last, he speaks to God and not to them. He asks God for two things at once: freedom from his sins, and rescue from the fool's scorn.
His trouble is real, but it is not the first thing he names. When he turns to God for hope, what meets him is the memory of his own wrongdoing:
He turns once more to the Lord, to express the hope he has in Him. He has no expectation anywhere else, but here at once the remembrance of his sins confronts him. He needs deliverance from these. So he prays that God will not make him the reproach of the fool — the ungodly man — since, despite everything, he does not belong with him.
Notice the last phrase. He does not belong with the fool, whatever his troubles make him look like. That is why he asks God not to make him the fool's scorn.
The mockery and the sin are linked. The scorn of others is the trail his own failure has left behind:
The godly soul looks beyond the empty show of life to the Lord, the One for whom he waits, and in whom is all his hope. He looks to the Lord for deliverance from his transgressions. He also looks for deliverance from the reproaches of the foolish, which those transgressions have brought on him. He dare not defend himself, for the Lord had sent the stroke. He who sent it can alone remove it.
So he pleads with God instead of answering his accusers. The hand he pleads with is the hand that struck him.
There is a reason he opens his heart to God and not to them:
The reproaches and the taunts of men are hard to bear. And when the one taunted is suffering under God's hand as well, the trial will be very heavy. It would be unbearable, in fact, if such a person could not open his heart to God.
So prayer is not his last resort here. It is the only place the pressure can go.
Before this verse the psalmist has been measuring how brief and empty human life is. That collapse of self-importance is not despair; it is what clears the ground for trust:
He sees that everything is empty. But he also sees his own transgression and sin in the presence of One whose rebuke consumes the beauty of man like a moth. To Jehovah he looks for deliverance. His stroke is what he cares for. He trusts Him not to make him the reproach of the foolish. There is great beauty when emptiness sinks to its true level and a man counts himself nothing. Then he trusts God to deliver him from the pride of men. He has to do with our transgressions.
God deals with the transgressions themselves. And once a man sees God's hand in his trouble, the loud claims of the wicked lose their force:
Then the heart sees God's hand in what it was going through, and looks to Him for deliverance. And all the pretensions of the wicked disappear, so to speak. Jehovah was correcting for wrongdoing.
The prayer raises a question David could not answer:
He desires to be delivered from all his transgressions (v. 8). God is the Judge of all. How then can He deliver someone from his transgressions and remain a righteous Judge? David wanted this deliverance, but he did not know the truth of the book of Romans. That book declares plainly that God "might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:26). This is simply because of the great value of the sacrifice of Christ.
- Confront — he turns to God for hope, and the first thing he meets is not his enemies but his own sins. He asks God to deliver him from those.
- Connect — the scorn of the fool is the trail his transgressions left. So he asks God to deal with both at once, not with his reputation alone.
- Commit — he will not defend himself to his mockers. The hand that struck him is God's, and only the One who sent the stroke can lift it.
- Collapse — he has seen his own life as brief and empty, so he stops trying to be strong. That emptiness frees him to trust God against the pride of men.
- Christ — David asked to be cleared, but he did not know how God could do it justly. The book of Romans gives the answer: God is "just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus," because of the value of Christ's sacrifice.
I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; for *thou* hast done [it].
Silence can mean two very different things. One man holds his tongue in front of his enemies. Another falls quiet because he has seen whose hand is behind his trouble. Psalm 39 moves from the first silence to the second, and verse 9 gives the reason.
Early in the psalm the man keeps quiet in front of the wicked. By verse 9 his stillness comes from somewhere else. One writer traces the change:
Here is a man learning as the servant of Jehovah, under His discipline. He is learning what kind of testimony he must give to the frailty and emptiness of man. Separation from evil silences his outward testimony (vv. 1, 2), but through it he learns how completely he is nothing (vv. 4, 5). This teaches him that man's highest honours and richest stores are only a breath. So his silence now comes from another cause (v. 9): submission to the will of God and confidence in Him.
The man is under reproach and could answer back. He does not, because he knows whose hand struck him. That same knowledge sends him to the Lord.
The godly soul looks beyond the "vain show" to the Lord, the One for whom he waits, and in whom is all his hope. He looks to the Lord to deliver him from his transgressions, and from the scorn of foolish men that those sins have brought on him. He does not dare to defend himself, for the Lord had sent the stroke. He who sent it can alone remove it.
This silence is not weakness. It is the right place for a man under God's hand, and it guards him from words he would regret.
In Psalm 39, the godly man is still under the stroke of God. But here he feels the emptiness of all flesh under the hand of God more than disgrace, shame and fear. He bows before God rather than let his spirit rise and speak foolishly with his tongue. He might have answered back — been provoked into doing evil. But restraint, when under the hand of God, was his fitting place. It is always so.
Another writer shows where such a man finds his rest:
But faith finds its refuge in the very One who strikes. He is like a man who is deaf and mute, his mouth stopped, as one before God (Ps. 39:9). Self-restrained, he has no reproofs, though their wickedness is obvious. But he has left everything to God, in whom he anchors himself and is at rest. God shall answer for him.
One writer hears the same words in the silence of Aaron, Israel's first high priest, on the day judgment fell inside his own family:
"And Aaron held his peace." "I am mute; I do not open my mouth, for it is You who have done it." Aaron saw the hand of the Lord in the solemn scene before him, and was still; not a murmur escapes him. "It is the Lord," and "He will be sanctified in those who approach Him." Aaron stood in solemn silence before the Lord, his two living sons on one side and his two dead ones on the other.
This silence reaches beyond one man. One writer traces it forward to Israel's repentance and to Jesus Himself:
This suits us all; and blessed is the soul of any saint exercised in this healthy way. We should know these paths of the Spirit better than we do. So the repentant Israel of the coming day will accept the punishment of their sin (Lev. 26:40). So, in silence, did Jesus receive our chastisement (Isa. 53:7; Matt. 26:63; see Ps. 38).
Faith does not stop at the visible cause of the blow.
He was overwhelmed. If he spoke at all, it would be to call God's love in question. But like an anchor in a raging storm, he held to his belief in God. He did not sin with his mouth. He said, "I am mute; I do not open my mouth, for it is YOU who have done it" (v. 9). David looked past second causes up to the great First Cause of eternal love.
The same writer states the order we must keep:
We must not reach God through our circumstances, but rather reach our circumstances through God. We must begin with God. God is good, God is love, His every act is pure blessing, if only we knew it. We begin with Him, and if we truly begin with Him, we can face every wind that blows.
- Whose hand. This silence rests on one thing. The stroke came from God, not just from enemies or circumstances.
- Hushed mouth. Once he sees that hand, restraint is his fitting place, and he keeps his tongue from foolish words.
- Not silent to God. He says nothing to his accusers but everything to the Lord: the One who sent the stroke is the only One who can remove it.
- At rest. He leaves the whole case with God and rests there. God will answer for him.
- Christ's stillness. Jesus is the deepest example. He received our chastisement in silence.
Remove thy stroke away from me I am consumed by the blow of thy hand.
The psalm has just recorded a silence: the sufferer would not open his mouth, because God Himself had done it. Now that same silence turns into a request: take the blow away. So how can a person bow to God's hand and at the same time ask Him to lift it?
Submission and prayer are not rivals here. One writer shows the order in which they come.
He knew God's chastening hand was on him, so he was silent. His mouth was stopped, because he could not open it against God. Yet he can make supplication for the removal of the stroke, the blow of His hand under which he is being consumed.
Silence here is a choice, not weakness. Another writer names what it holds back:
He bows before God rather than let his spirit rise and speak foolishly with his tongue. He might have answered back — been provoked into doing evil. But restraint was his fitting place under the hand of God. It is always so.
Because he traced the trouble to God, he had nowhere else to take his request.
He did not dare to defend himself, for the Lord had sent the stroke. The One who sent it alone can remove it. Under the rebuke of the Lord everything attractive in man withers like the short-lived beauty of a moth.
The ESV says he is spent by God's hand. Older translations read "consumed by the blow of your hand," and the writers use that older wording. The wasting has a purpose: it brings a man to the end of his own worth.
In Psalm 39 he is nearer God — quieter — and sees the sorrow and the wasting that is upon him as God's hand, but in chastening. All of man, and the world, is vanity.
One writer pairs this psalm with the one before it and traces how the distress deepens:
Psalms 38 and 39 form a pair, marked by the far deeper distress under Jehovah's anger because of sins. Still, they look to God without hesitating, even while they feel His arrows and their own utter corruption. Psalm 39 carries this further. Here the sense is that self, and man in general, is mere breath or vanity, all under God's consuming hand. But the hope is in the Lord.
Calling the trouble God's stroke does not make God an enemy. What matters is the purpose behind the blow.
Be sure of this: a heart of infinite love moves the hand that strikes. God does not want to break you, but to bless you by bringing you down flat in the dust before Him.
Faith says this back to God in plain words:
We are led to look past all apparent causes, all human instruments, or even Satan himself. We are led to see that Hand which "will never cause His child a needless tear." Let the sufferer say, "It is Your hand," "I know that in faithfulness You have afflicted me."
Where a sufferer starts decides what he concludes.
We must not reach God through our circumstances, but rather reach our circumstances through God. We must begin with God. God is good, God is love, His every act is pure blessing, if only we knew it. We begin with God, and if we truly begin with Him, we can face every wind that blows.
This is not one man's experience only. One writer shows where the same silence leads.
This suits us all; and blessed is the soul of any saint exercised in this healthy way. We ought to know these paths of the Spirit better than we do. So, in silence, did Jesus receive our chastisement.
- Struck. The sufferer traces his trouble to God's own hand. That is why he does not argue with it. Restraint is his fitting place.
- Silenced. He stops his mouth against God first. Only then does he open it in prayer, so his asking grows out of submission, not resentment.
- Emptied. The wasting teaches him what he is: all of man, and the world, is vanity. That lesson is the point of the blow.
- Loved. A heart of infinite love moves the hand that strikes. God does not aim to break the believer, but to bring him low enough to bless him.
- Answered. God alone sent the stroke, so God alone can remove it. The sufferer begins with God and reaches his circumstances through Him, never the other way round.
When thou with rebukes dost correct a man for iniquity, thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth surely, every man is vanity. Selah.
David watches whatever was attractive in him waste away, and he names the cause: God's correction of his sin. Two questions follow — is this stroke wrath or discipline, and why does the verse end with a verdict on every man?
David does not treat his wasting as bad luck. He traces it to God, and he traces it to his own sin, so the sight of his frailty and the sight of his fault arrive together.
He desires to know his days. How little he is! He sees that all is vanity. But he sees his own transgression and sin in the presence of One whose rebuke consumes the beauty of man like a moth.
So he keeps quiet instead of defending himself. His hope has nowhere else to go.
The godly soul looks beyond the empty show to the Lord, the One he waits for, and in whom all his hope rests. To the Lord he looks for deliverance from his transgressions, and from the reproaches of the foolish that his sins have brought on him. He dare not defend himself, for the Lord had sent the stroke. He who sent it can alone remove it. Under the rebuke of the Lord all that is attractive in man withers like the fleeting beauty of a moth.
The blow falls for sin, yet it corrects; it does not condemn. Writers compare this psalm with the one before it. Here the tone is quieter, and the sufferer is nearer to God.
In Psalm 39, he is nearer God — quieter — and sees the sorrow, and the consuming that is upon him, as God's hand, but in chastening. All man, and the world, is vanity.
That distinction matters for anyone reading their own troubles.
The sins a child of God commits must come under God's governmental chastening in this life. But he cannot come into God's penal judgment when He condemns the world. 1 Corinthians 11:32 draws the distinction between God's chastening and God's eternal judgment: "But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world." See also Psalm 89:31-33 and Hebrews 12:5-11. They describe the governmental chastening by which He disciplines His redeemed children.
The picture comes from ordinary household loss. A moth eats what people store away and prize. It leaves alone the clothes they wear.
Moths do not attack the clothing you wear. They lay their eggs in what you store away, and there the young find their food. From this we learn the lesson to lay up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust can ruin or destroy. Ps. 39:11; Matt. 6:19-20; James 5:2.
Commentators read the comparison in two ways. The moth is the destroyer that works unseen. The moth is also a creature whose own beauty lasts only a moment. Older translations say God consumes man's "beauty." The ESV says "what is dear to him."
What the moth eats away is not only outward beauty. It is self-confidence.
When David realised that God was rebuking him for his sin, all confidence in himself melted away like a moth. But it also told David that not only he, but every man is vapour. So personal experience is valuable. It gives us a true perception of what all mankind is like.
The verdict is not only for obvious failures. It reaches even those God has honoured and used. One writer points to something the prophet Zechariah saw, and quotes verse 5 from an older translation.
It is worth noticing what Zechariah saw. It was not some straying, disgraced man in filthy clothes. It was a man whom God had used, a man in a place of special privilege. This reminds us that David cried out, "Truly every man at his best state is altogether vanity" (Ps. 39:5).
The wearing-down is not pointless. One writer calls it correction for a wandering that only famine will end.
Such is man's condition. His beauty is as short-lived as the moth, but this comes as the correction of his perversity. He has his Father's goods in his hand, and he uses them to enjoy himself away from Him. So he must find the famine to be brought back. Every man is therefore but a breath.
- The hand — the stroke is no accident. David names God as its source and his own sin as its occasion, and so stops defending himself.
- The purpose — the hand that sends the stroke can also remove it. This is correction within God's government of His own, not the judgment that falls on the world.
- The picture — a moth ruins what is stored and prized, unseen and from the inside. So lay up treasure where no moth can reach it.
- The reach — what David learns about himself he learns about everyone. Even the most used and most privileged are a mere breath.
- The result — the famine is meant to bring the wanderer back to his Father. The man stripped of his own beauty is free to rest all his hope in the Lord.
Hear my prayer, Jehovah, and give ear unto my cry; be not silent at my tears for I am a stranger with thee, a sojourner, like all my fathers.
David has just been silent under the hand of God, and the psalm closes by asking God not to be silent in return. Weakness becomes his one claim on God. He owns nothing in this world. He stands only as a guest in God's house.
The prayer comes after a confession, and it asks God for two things: a hearing, and time.
Having owned his sin and weakness, the soul looks to God to hear his prayer. He asks God to let his tears speak. He wants God to spare him and restore his strength before he leaves the scene of his pilgrimage.
He does not ask God to stop the tears; he asks God not to stay silent while they fall.
David does not point to anything good in himself. He points to his need. Both of his words, "stranger" and "sojourner," had a settled meaning in Israel:
Now he breaks out into prayer again, turning his condition into an argument for the pity of the Merciful One. In Israel a "stranger" had careful provision made for him. And a "sojourner," like David's Moabite ancestress, could count on the shelter of the wings of the God of Israel. "I," too, he cries, "am a stranger with You, and a sojourner, like all my fathers." A stranger and sojourner is God's guest, and that proves how large His hospitality is.
So the argument is not his worth but his position. A guest has a claim on his host.
Being a stranger here is not only a feeling of homelessness. It also settles how a believer takes it when arrogant people succeed:
The believer in this world is a stranger, sojourning with God — for how long, He alone can say. It does not depend on, nor is it to be upset by, the noisy pretensions and arrogance of the wicked in their success. This would be to make ourselves of this world with a claim to something in it.
The phrase is "a sojourner with you." The stranger has company, and the company is God Himself:
This section closes with prayer. David asks God to hear him — and not only to hear, but to answer instead of staying silent (v. 12). "For," as he says, "I am a stranger with You, a sojourner, as all my fathers were." Is this not a most precious word for us? If we are made to feel like strangers in the world, how good to know that God is a Stranger here too! God proved this when He came down in the person of the Lord Jesus, and even His own people did not receive Him (John 1:11). All of David's believing forefathers were strangers too, but they had the fellowship of God!
Older translations read "stranger… sojourner" where the ESV has "sojourner… guest."
"Like all my fathers" places David in a line, not on his own. Commentators differ on how far that line reaches. One takes the verse as the place of everyone who walks by faith:
Verse 12 takes the place of Abraham and David, and all the walkers by faith.
Another writer hears Christ Himself in these closing verses:
The rest of the psalm expresses the patient agony of the blessed One, as He bowed to the Father's will while facing what His soul shrank from. He identifies Himself perfectly, in grace, with those He suffered for, and He owned their sins as His own. This is especially clear in the twelfth verse.
The confession did not stop with David. It is the standing description of God's people in both Testaments:
Both the Old Testament and the New Testament saints were and are strangers on earth. David said, "I am a stranger with You, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were." Psalm 39:12. They "acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth." Hebrews 11:13. The same is true of the saints now. 1 Peter 2:11. Their citizenship is in heaven, and this earth is no longer their home or their rest.
- Silence broken. David kept quiet before men and under God's hand. Now he begs God not to keep quiet as well.
- Tears speak. He asks God to let his weeping plead for him before he leaves the scene of his pilgrimage.
- Guest, not owner. In Israel, a stranger was cared for. David turns his homelessness into his argument, and finds God a large-hearted host.
- No claim here. To be upset when the arrogant succeed is to act as if we owned a share in this world. The stranger claims none.
- Good company. The fathers walked this road. God Himself came here as a Stranger. Every believer since stands in the same line, with a citizenship in heaven.
Look away from me, and let me recover strength, before I go hence and be no more.
The psalm's last words are a strange prayer: the man who has just asked God to hear his cry now asks Him to turn His gaze away. Commentators read it as the cry of a believer under God's chastening hand, who feels the searching eye of a holy God on his own sin and cannot bear it.
Psalms 38 and 39 belong together as the words of a sufferer who traces his trouble back to God's own hand. One writer marks what the second adds:
Psalms 38 and 39 acknowledge Jehovah's chastening because of their sins; but they are open before Him, and silent before men, and cry for His help. The second goes further and deeper than the first. In it they realise the emptiness of man rather than their personal feelings.
So the closing plea ends a psalm about how frail and empty a man is.
He has just begged God to hear him. Now he asks God not to look at him. One commentator explains why, and unpacks the phrase older translations give as "that I may recover strength":
But he goes further than this, in a prayer that at first seems to contradict it. "Look away from me," he says, "that I may recover strength" (or, more literally, "brighten up"), "before I depart and am no more." But why "look away"? Certainly not because he wants God to forget him — quite the opposite. He is conscious of his sinfulness, which is the cause of all the sorrow and evil of his life. If a holy God is to look at that, what hope can there be for him? Surely none. He and sin are so identified that God must look away from him — must not regard him — if he is to have any peace or comfort at all.
So the prayer is not a wish for distance from God. It is a confession that sin cannot survive His gaze.
The same writer sets this cry beside a second psalm, and shows what God has since done:
"Look away from me, that I may recover strength" (Ps. 39:13). God's eye upon him seems to waste and wither him down. Who can stand it? If he has no relief from that, the soul that God has made must perish. So he appeals to Him: "Look away from me." And yet this is the necessary way He has taken for our blessing. He looks at Christ instead of us. So He fulfils the second prayer, to "look upon the face of Your Anointed." That is what He does, blessed be His Name. We no longer have to pray the prayer, but only to thank Him that it is done.
Another writer draws the same two verses together and adds when the relief arrives:
Rather than God looking at us, how good that He looks upon the face of the Lord Jesus as our Substitute. This will indeed give us regained strength, even before we leave the scene of present trial.
The plea rests on what the psalmist has just called himself: a stranger and a temporary resident with God. In Israel that status was not a weakness but a claim:
Now he breaks into prayer again, turning his condition into an argument for the pity of the Merciful One. In Israel a "stranger" was carefully provided for. A "sojourner," like David's Moabite ancestress, could count on the shelter of the wings of the God of Israel. "I too," he cries, "am a stranger with You, and a sojourner, like all my fathers." A stranger and sojourner is the guest of God, there to prove how large His hospitality is.
Some argue from these words that death ends a person's existence. One writer answers that the language is no stronger than what Scripture says of a man who never died at all:
"Before I depart and am no more" (Ps. 39:13) — these are expressions no stronger than those we have seen used of one who was taken away so that he should not see death. Enoch "was not," yet not even those who teach annihilation have said that he literally ceased to exist.
The psalmist calls dying a going out. That reads very differently depending on who is speaking:
What a wicked man fears, a godly man hopes for. "I desire," says Paul, "to depart"; a sinner cries, "I am reluctant to depart." David calls death a going out of the world (Ps. 39:13). A wicked man does not go out; he is dragged out. A soul made alive by grace looks on the world as a wilderness full of fiery serpents, and longs to get out of that wilderness... The bird longs to get out of the cage, even if the cage is made of gold.
- Look. The whole verse turns on God's gaze. The psalmist has felt it resting on his sin, and it wastes and withers him down.
- Look away. He is not asking to be forgotten. He is confessing that he and his sin are so bound together that God's notice can only condemn him.
- Brighten up. The plea "that I may smile again" reads more literally as "brighten up" — he wants relief and light while his short life lasts.
- Look at Christ. God answers with a second prayer: "look upon the face of Your Anointed." He looks at Christ instead of us. So we no longer pray this prayer — we thank Him that it is done.
- Depart. Departure, not extinction. The believer is a stranger and guest of God here, and the bird longs to leave the cage even when it is gold.
(To the chief Musician. Of David. A Psalm.) I waited patiently for Jehovah; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.
The psalm opens by looking back: a man cried out, and God answered. Commentators hear here not only David's relief but the voice of Christ. They ask what such waiting cost Him, and what it wins for everyone still waiting.
Behind the English word "patiently" lies a Hebrew form that the translation has to smooth out. One writer explains:
In Hebrew, repeating a word makes its meaning stronger. Take Psalm 40:1, and many other examples could be given. We read, "I waited patiently for the Lord." Translated exactly, it would be, "In waiting I waited for the Lord." The repetition gives the word a deeper and more sustained sense, and the translation "I waited patiently" shows this.
Writers hear Christ speaking here, not David alone. Where the ESV has "the LORD," these writers use the older rendering "Jehovah." One states it plainly:
No one ever waited for Jehovah as Christ did — the eternal Son who had become His servant on the earth. In the scroll of the book it was written of Him: He was the object of God's counsels before He became man. But it was His one aim too.
The one waiting here was not helpless. That is what makes His waiting remarkable:
He tells us that He patiently waited for resurrection. He could have used His divine power, as we know. Instead He waited until He was raised "by the blood of the everlasting covenant." So He was, as He says in this Psalm, the poor and needy one — the one who depended on God for everything — the one who waited patiently as an exercise of faith.
He refused every escape open to Him. Each refusal is part of what "waited" means here:
The psalm shows the faithfulness of Christ in waiting for Jehovah while in the sorrow. He would not seek ease, or have twelve legions of angels, or drink the numbing myrrh. He would not shrink back from suffering the will of God, any more than He shrank from facing man when He preached it. He waited patiently for Jehovah; and He inclined to Him and heard His cry. This was His perfection: He sought no way out of obedience, He did not shrink, He did not turn back or aside. He waited for Jehovah's time in the path of perfect obedience, and it came. … The object of the Spirit here was to show the tried ones that One had gone before them in the path of sorrow and had been heard.
God heard Him, but the answer did not spare Him death. One writer sets the verse beside a word about Christ in the letter to the Hebrews:
In the days of His flesh, the Lord Jesus Christ "offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to Him who was able to save Him from death" — or out of death — "and He was heard because of His reverence" (Hebrews 5:7). The apostle records the fact; David gives us the encouragement saints can draw from that deliverance. Heard He was and answered, but only in resurrection. So He waited patiently, the Psalm declares. How many a martyr has been called to wait patiently! Such a man dies under the abuse of a hostile crowd, to be vindicated on high in the future, whatever men thought of him when on earth.
The lesson is not for Christ alone. One writer draws it out by contrast with King Saul, Israel's first king, who could not hold out the seven days until the prophet Samuel came:
"I waited patiently for Jehovah." Patience had its perfect work — an immense lesson for us. Flesh can wait a long time, but not until the Lord comes in. It cannot wait in perfect submission, trusting only in His strength and faithfulness, so as to be perfect in obedience and in the will of God. Saul waited nearly seven days; but the confidence of the flesh was melting away — his army. The Philistines, the proud enemies, were there. He did not keep waiting until the Lord came in with Samuel… Flesh trusted its own wisdom, and looked to its own force, though with pious forms. All was lost. It was flesh which was tried and failed. Christ was tried. He waited patiently for Jehovah. He was perfect and complete in all the will of God. And this is our path through grace.
- Waiting doubled. The Hebrew reads "in waiting I waited." That repetition is what "patiently" translates — a deeper, longer waiting, not a brief pause.
- Waiting perfected. No one ever waited for the Lord as Christ did. He sought no way out of obedience — no ease, no legions of angels, no shrinking back.
- Waiting answered. He was heard, but the answer came only in resurrection — saved out of death, not spared it.
- Waiting rewarded. He waited for God's time in the path of obedience, "and it came" — the timing was God's, and it did not fail.
- Waiting shared. One has gone before us in the path of sorrow and was heard. So those who wait now — martyrs and ordinary saints alike — walk a road already proved: "this is our path through grace."
And he brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock; he hath established my goings
Psalm 40 opens with a man lifted out of a pit he could never climb out of himself. He is set on ground that will not shift. Commentators read these words first as the voice of Christ, and then as the pattern of God's rescue of His people.
The picture is one of complete helplessness. A man in a place like that cannot save himself.
He says nothing about the pain of His sufferings, though He does say He had been in a horrible pit (v. 2), and that God Himself had brought Him out of it. The horrible pit was a place no one could get out of by himself. It took God stepping in. He raised the Lord Jesus from among the dead, set His feet on a rock and made His steps firm. The rock stands in contrast to the miry clay, and speaks of the stability God gives.
The Hebrew word for the pit means destruction. Commentators hear the whole verse as Christ's own song after His resurrection.
Psalm 40 begins with what we may call "Christ's resurrection song." As the sin-bearer He went down into the horrible pit (Hebrew: the pit of destruction) and the miry clay. Then the power of God brought Him out, raised Him from the dead, set His feet on a rock and made His steps sure (His ascension). A new song is put in His mouth, "even praise to our God." It is the song of redemption. He sings it first, and all who believe on Him join in that song.
The deliverance recorded here is what gives others a reason to lean on God at all.
Here is the reason why the remnant should trust Jehovah. He has been delivered from the horrible pit and the miry clay, which shows resurrection.
Before the lifting came a cry, and before the answer came a delay. There is a lesson in that for anyone still waiting.
In Psalm 40 we see the Lord Jesus above all in His life of public witness for God, in His sacrificial death, and in His resurrection too. He is brought up out of a horrible pit and out of the miry clay. First He waited patiently for Jehovah, until Jehovah turned to Him and heard His cry. He waited patiently, but did not wait in vain. His people may have to wait, but their waiting cannot be in vain. He has been heard and delivered, and so will they be, because by His death He has made atonement for their sins.
The word for "rock" here means something that cannot be moved. Scripture also uses it as a name for God.
Two words are mainly used for "rock." One is sela, "an elevation of strength, immovable." It is used as a picture of Jehovah as the rock of His people: "The LORD is my rock and my fortress." Ps. 18:2. He "set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure." Ps. 40:2.
The last part of the verse is about walking, not just standing still.
The word "goings" means the same as "steps." Another translation renders "established my goings" in Ps. 40:2 as "enabled me to step firmly." Freedom, strength and steadiness had been given.
(The ESV renders the clause "making my steps secure.")
Grace moves the believer in one direction: up, out of sin and toward the ascended Christ.
Up from the swamp of sin to the mountain top where no clouds hide the glories of the ascended Christ; up from the pit of shame to the "Rock that is higher than I" — this is the lift that grace gives.
But the rescue does not always come in this life.
Does God ever leave His people without stepping in to help them? Impossible. Yet for Christians the deliverance may come only through death and resurrection… Many a martyr has been called to wait patiently. He dies under the scorn of a hostile crowd, to be vindicated on high in time to come, whatever men thought of him when he was on earth.
- Pit — the hole and the mud picture helplessness. No one climbs out by himself, so the rescue can only be God's work.
- Cry — the lift comes after a cry and a wait. Christ waited patiently and was not disappointed. Those who wait after Him will not be either.
- Raised — commentators read the verse as Christ's own words. He went down into the pit of destruction as the sin-bearer, and God's power raised Him.
- Rock — the word means something that cannot be moved, and Scripture uses it as a name for God. It is the opposite of clay that gives way underfoot.
- Steps — the rescue ends in movement, not just safety. God gives freedom, strength and steadiness, so the rescued man can walk.
And he hath put a new song in my mouth, praise unto our God. Many shall see it, and fear, and shall confide in Jehovah.
A psalm that begins in a pit ends in a song, and the singer did not compose it — God put it in his mouth. Commentators hear the voice of Christ raised out of death — so what makes this song new, who sings it, and why does the sight of it draw others to trust God?
The opening verses set the order: waiting first, deliverance second, singing third. One writer shows when the answer came, and who else must wait. He quotes an older wording, where "Jehovah" stands for "the LORD."
How instructive and comforting are the words in Psalm 40! — "I waited patiently for Jehovah... He brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet on a rock... And He has put a new song in my mouth, even praise to our God." When He lived on earth, the Lord Jesus Christ offered up prayers and pleas, with loud cries and tears, to Him who was able to save Him out of death. He was heard because of His reverence (Hebrews 5:7). But the answer came only in resurrection. So He waited patiently, the Psalm declares. How many a martyr has been called to wait patiently, dying under the abuse of a hostile crowd, to be vindicated on high in the future.
The song has a date. No one could sing it until a certain work was finished.
I could not praise God — my proper work as a believer — unless He had put the song of praise into my mouth on the ground of redemption... Christ begins this song after redemption has been accomplished. There was a time when "the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy." When God created the world all was very good. But sin has come in and spoiled that. Now Christ takes up the song of redemption, and so the saints can sing it too, as it is said, "praise to our God." But they cannot sing it until they know redemption.
That limit reaches further than you might expect. One writer takes the silence of Scripture seriously.
The angels who never fell, if we may safely read the silence of Scripture, do not have the privilege of song... God spoke with man, and man with Him, as the angels are said to do. But it is the crowning work of redemption, and that alone, which strikes a chord in the heart of God and tunes the heart of man to respond... Then only can Christ lead the praises of His saints, for song is born of salvation!
The word "our" matters. He joins others to Himself — the faithful few in Israel — and gives them the same song He received.
Here, in Psalm 40, His heart is with the poor remnant. He undertakes their cause, going through all their sorrow and bearing their sins... He gives them the comfort of being taken up to the same place as Himself. He puts a new song into their mouths, as Jehovah had put one into His.
The song is not private. In the older wording below, "many shall see it" — the rescue itself is what they see, and this fear ends in trust.
It is the voice of Jesus, heard by faith in the gospel, that gives life to the dead soul. It enables that soul to look in His light on the wonderful work of God... The fear of Jehovah fills the man whose eyes are opened to see truly the working of His hands. But in this, its highest display, God's power is the power of a Saviour. That fear is the beginning of wisdom. It leads the one who sees in Christ the wisdom and power of divine salvation into perfect peace and confidence.
The reach of that "many" goes beyond Israel.
"Many shall see it and fear, and put their trust in Jehovah." This would let in Gentiles. God had come in to deliver out of the effect of evil, and set His feet on a rock above it and all its results. This is the sure faithfulness of grace: the deliverance of God shown in One who had gone to the depths of trials. It would be a resting place for the faith of others.
That raises a practical question: when does the singing start?
We do not have to wait until we get to heaven to sing! These words speak of our journey now. He has put a new song into our mouths, even praise to our God (Psalm 40:3). We have indeed many reasons to be joyful and to sing on the way to the Father's House.
- Waited — the song follows a cry answered only in resurrection. Waiting is the road to it, not a detour.
- New — new because redemption is finished. The creation song of the morning stars cannot carry it, and angels have no such song.
- Given — God puts the song in the mouth; no one works it up. Christ received it, and He hands the same song to those He joins to Himself.
- Shared — "our God" is the hinge word: the Deliverer sings with companions, not alone.
- Seen — the song becomes evidence. Many see, fear, and rest their trust on a God proven faithful in One who went to the depths.
Blessed is the man that hath made Jehovah his confidence, and turneth not to the proud, and to such as turn aside to lies.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Thou, O Jehovah my God, hast multiplied thy marvellous works, and thy thoughts toward us they cannot be reckoned up in order unto thee; would I declare and speak [them], they are more than can be numbered.
Verse 5 is a burst of praise that gives up counting. Who is speaking here, and what runs past counting — God's works or His thoughts?
One writer marks this verse as the psalm's true starting point.
Often the result of the experiences described in a psalm comes at the start. This becomes the theme or subject, and what follows leads up to it, explains it, or illustrates it... The psalm really begins with verse 5. Then in the next verse, as we learn from Hebrews 10, we enter an eternal scene. It is a solemn transaction between God and His beloved Son in a past eternity.
Commentators read most of Psalm 40 as the words of Christ Himself. One writer takes verse 5 as His comment on works that all meet in one event:
Verse 5 is the comment on the many wondrous works which all merge in the incarnation and its circumstances.
The verse names two things: works and thoughts. One writer draws out why the second list is longer than the first, and what still lies ahead because of it.
Verse 5 speaks of it — the many and wonderful thoughts and works of God, which are "more than can be numbered," that is, they are innumerable also. He died as a sacrifice. That was not only to blot out our sins, but also to express and carry out the glorious thoughts and purposes of God. The works which He has done are indeed many, but His thoughts are more, for a whole multitude of them are not yet worked out in works. They will be, however, worked out and brought into display to His eternal glory, in the ages that are yet to come.
The words "toward us" make the verse personal. One writer takes the number of these thoughts as a measure of God's care for Christ and His people.
The unnumbered multitude of God's thoughts (see also Psalm 139) beautifully expresses the diligence and delight of God over Christ and His redeemed, as though this object were all His concern, and the centre of all His counsels. How I wish we knew how to enjoy this truth as we should!
One writer points out where the line ends, and what that means for us:
It starts with "O LORD my God," and the clause ends with "toward us." Whatever our blessed Lord secures by His sufferings and death, He shares with His own.
Set against man's thinking, God's thoughts run the opposite way:
Man's thoughts centre around himself, whereas the thoughts of God are centred in Christ, the Son of His bosom... From the earliest days God spoke against the thoughts of man, saying they were "only evil continually" (Genesis 6:5). But we read that God's thoughts toward us are abundant and wonderful (Psalm 40:5).
Some translations end the line "they cannot be reckoned up in order to you"; the ESV reads "none can compare with you." The commentators here work from that first wording. One writer explains what happens when we try to arrange God's thoughts.
The thoughts of God are wonderful, and infinite in number. We cannot classify them; they rush together, overlap and blend into one another. We cannot reckon them up in order when we are before God in prayer and thanksgiving (Ps. 40:5)... but all are summed up in Christ. The revelation of all God's thoughts is overpowering. We cannot comprehend them. They stagger and confound us.
Another writer measures the same overflow against the limits of time itself:
This section ends with joyful praise to God for wondrous works, and for gracious "thoughts toward us," far beyond words... It is the theme of eternity, and time is all too narrow for it.
One writer presses this verse on anyone who feels they have nothing to thank God for:
Is it really the case that there is nothing at all in your life that calls for thanksgiving to God? Can you not recall one mercy? There must surely be one: are there not even two? Perhaps if you try you can count a score, and if you try hard, a hundred and more.
And one writer puts the verse on the lips of anyone who has grasped what it means to be an heir of God and joint-heir with Christ — privileges he says no one could have invented:
Man never dreamt of such privileges, such an inheritance. No system of religion of human invention has suggested that such favours could be obtained for its followers.
- Speaker — Commentators read the psalm as Christ's words; verse 5 is His comment on works that meet in the incarnation.
- Works — What God has already done is beyond counting, and the writer of the psalm gives up trying to list it.
- Thoughts — More still, because many are not yet worked out. God will display them in ages to come.
- Toward us — God's thoughts centre on Christ and His redeemed. Man's thoughts centre on himself.
- Response — We cannot set them in order; they rush together and overwhelm us. So count your mercies, and let the counting turn into praise.
Sacrifice and oblation thou didst not desire ears hast thou prepared me. Burnt-offering and sin-offering hast thou not demanded;
The New Testament reads this psalm as the speech of Christ Himself, spoken as He came into the world. So the verse raises two questions. Why does God turn away from offerings He Himself commanded? And what does it mean that ears were dug for someone?
Commentators read verse 6 as the voice of the Son, not of David. One writer places the scene before the incarnation:
We are admitted into that solemn scene where the eternal Son presents Himself to take the position of the True Servant in Psalm 40, and to carry out the counsels of God. That scene took place before He showed the Father's name in this world in His human body... God had no desire for the sacrifices and offerings of the law, which only called sin to mind. And the eternal Son presents Himself — "Behold, I have come."
The Hebrew word behind "opened" means "dug." One writer presses the image hard:
Some Bibles print a cross-reference here to Exodus 21:6. Score that out. That reference has led many astray. Exodus 21 speaks of His death; Psalm 40 of His birth. What do you understand by the "digging" of the ears? It is perfectly simple. Suppose I go out and dig a pit — there is no pit there until I dig it. So He had no ears until they were "dug" — He had never been a listener before! He had created, commanded, governed and made laws, but had not listened.
Here commentators differ. Some link the phrase to the Hebrew slave whose ear was pierced at the doorpost:
The ear is always used as a sign of receiving commandments, and of the principle of obligation to obey... They bored the ear, fastening it to the door with an awl. This showed that the Israelite belonged to the house as a slave, to obey for ever. Now in taking a body, the Lord took the form of a servant (Philippians 2). Ears were dug for Him. That is to say, He put Himself in a position where He had to obey all His Master's will, whatever it might be.
Others keep the two apart:
At first it may look like the bored ear of the Hebrew servant, but it seems not to be that. The two come so near that there is little need to tell them apart. The bored ear was the sign of unending service, freely taken up. The ears dug are the sign of capacity and readiness to receive the word of another.
One writer treats the change as an unfolding, not a mistake:
The passage in Hebrews 10:5 reads, "Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body have you prepared for me." The quotation is from the 40th psalm, where instead of "a body have you prepared for me" we have "my ears you have opened," or "dug." This shows how freely the Spirit of God enlarges on the thought He first gave by His own inspiration. In the psalm, as fits its prophetic character, we have the opening or forming of the ears. This suggests the obedience of our Lord, since the ear is what receives the instruction to be obeyed. But in the New Testament passage His holy person stands fully revealed. There the Spirit teaches us that His body was one specially prepared for this obedience.
The four terms in the verse are not random. They match the offerings of Leviticus:
The Psalm mentions "sacrifices and offerings... burnt offerings and sin offerings." That is, offerings of four kinds. The early chapters of Leviticus name four kinds of offerings too. God took no pleasure in any of them. When the Son of God came forth to do the will of God, His coming replaced them and took them away. In the body He took, He did the whole will of God. He offered that body up in sacrifice, and so we have been set apart for God once for all.
Some read the verse to mean God never wanted sacrifice at all. One writer answers that God's lack of delight has a different reason:
It is true that the One the psalmist speaks for does present the LORD as having no delight in "sacrifice and offering." But that is because of who He has in view. Not the broken and stained obedience of an ordinary man, but the glorious One that these sacrifices pictured. He could say, as no one else could, "ears have You dug for me." And He could look forward to the time when "burnt offering and sin offering" would no longer be required.
- The ear. The Hebrew reads "ears you have dug for me." The ear is the sign of receiving commands. So the verse marks the moment the Son takes the place of one who listens.
- The listener. He had created, commanded and governed, but He had never listened. Ears were dug for Him when He took the servant's place.
- The body. Hebrews 10 gives the same words as "a body have you prepared for me." The body makes the hearing, and the obeying, possible.
- The four. Sacrifice, offering, burnt offering and sin offering cover the whole range of Israel's offerings. God set all four aside, because He found no pleasure in them.
- The result. What replaces them is not a better animal but a will fully done. By that will we are set apart for God, once for all.
Then said I, Behold, I come, in the volume of the book it is written of me --
Psalm 40 moves from a cry out of the pit to a voice that no ordinary sufferer could own. In verse 7 the speaker says that a book already written has Him as its subject. The New Testament takes these words as Christ's own.
The psalm lets us listen in on a scene from before Christ appeared in this world: the Son offering Himself for a service no one else could give.
There is something precious beyond words in the servant character which the Lord Jesus has taken up towards His people, and for them. It is a character that serves not only their need, but the Father's glory, as none but He could serve. We are let into that solemn scene of the eternal Son presenting Himself to take the position of the True Servant in Psalm 40, to carry out the counsels of God. That scene took place before He made the Father's name known in this world in His human body.
Every creature owes God service. The point of "I have come" is that the One saying it owed none, and chose it anyway.
He came as a man truly, but also as the Incarnate Servant of Jehovah, which no man besides Him was or could be. For every living creature, service to God is not a matter of choice but of duty. On the Son there was no obligation to serve. He chose to take on Himself "the form of a servant." He purposed to do this before the world was, and the prophetic Spirit made this known through the psalmist.
Verse 7 answers verse 6. There God does not ask for sacrifice; He gives an open ear instead. The New Testament quotes that line as "a body have you prepared for me." Commentators explain why the wording shifts.
This shows how freely the Spirit of God enlarges on the thought He first gave by inspiration. In the psalm, fitting its prophetic character, we have the opening or forming of the ears. That suggests the obedience of our Lord, since the ear receives the instruction to be obeyed. But in the New Testament passage, His holy person stands fully revealed. There the Spirit teaches us that His body was one specially prepared for this obedience.
The writers below say "volume" where the ESV says "scroll." Commentators differ on which book is meant. Some take it to be God's own record of purpose, set before the world began.
There is great depth and power in those words of the eternal Son, "In the volume of the book it is written of me." What "volume" does He mean here? Is it Old Testament scripture? Surely not; the apostle is quoting from the Old Testament. What then is the volume? It is nothing less than the roll of God's eternal counsels. There God laid the vast plan. According to that plan, at the appointed time, the eternal Son was to come forth and appear on the scene.
Others look instead to the Old Testament, where every sacrifice becomes a portrait of Him.
Is it not, after all, the volume of the Old Testament — the book of Leviticus, for instance, the book of all those sacrificial rules? Once you get this thought, you can go back to Leviticus. Read there of the burnt offering and the sin offering, and say: in the volume of the book it is written, not of the offering, but of Christ Himself. So whenever you come to what speaks of the blood, you say the same. From the time of Abel right through the whole Old Testament record, in the volume of the book it is written of Him.
Why were those offerings not wanted, and who answered instead?
God had no desire for the sacrifices and offerings of the law, which only called to mind that sin was there. There had to be One whose ability to do His will was beyond question. And the eternal Son presents Himself — "Behold, I have come."
Because He came, that whole system of offerings lost its place.
These are all put aside. "He takes away the first to establish the second." Christ came to do God's will. Everything centres in the Son. All blessing is connected with relationship to Him... The Levitical system fades away, as it met neither God's desires nor man's need. Christ, who says "Behold, I have come to do your will," is everything. Then He "preached righteousness in the great congregation." This cost Him His life.
- Written — before He came, the book already had Him as its subject. Commentators read it either as God's eternal counsels or as the Old Testament sacrifices that all point to Him.
- Willing — no obligation rested on the Son to serve; "Behold, I have come" is a choice, not a duty discharged.
- Bodied — the opened ears of the psalm become "a body prepared" in the New Testament: obedience needed a body to carry it out.
- Replacing — His coming takes away the old system of offerings and sets God's will in its place.
- Costly — the One who came to do that will preached righteousness in the great congregation, and it cost Him His life.
To do thy good pleasure, my God, is my delight, and thy law is within my heart.
Hebrews 10 quotes this verse and applies it to Christ. So commentators hear the Son here, speaking of His own coming into the world. Two questions follow. Who is the one delighting, and what does it mean to carry God's law inside a heart?
Verses 6 and 7 look back to what God settled before He came. In verse 8 He speaks from the earth He had reached.
Verse 6 presents the thought and counsels of God. Verse 7 presents His willing coming to do God's will according to these counsels. But we must remember that He speaks as a man. Verses 6 and 7 reveal what passed in the eternal world (wonderful thought!), and tell us how He became a man. But, as in verse 5, so again in verse 8, Christ speaks as One actually in that place on earth. "I delight to do Your will, O my God; Your law is within My heart" — that is His perfection as Man.
Most obedience we know means giving up what we would rather do. Commentators say the psalm shows a different kind of obedience.
How different from all this is the obedience of Christ, as the Word presents it! Born of a woman, born under the law, He obeyed it perfectly. He magnified the law and made it honourable by submitting to its obedience. But He did not obey as one who had to be forbidden what He wanted. "Then I said, Behold, I have come; in the scroll of the book it is written of Me: I delight to do Your will, O my God; Your law is within My heart." His obedience was also never a matter of giving up His own will before the authority of the Father's will. He says, "I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent Me." Coming in this way, we see One whose only will was to do God's will.
Commentators read the second half of the verse against the ark. That chest in Israel's tabernacle held the stone tablets of the law.
The tablets of the covenant were also in the ark — God's holy law kept in the only place where it could remain unbroken; that is, in the bosom of Christ Himself. "Your law is within My heart" was perfectly displayed in His outward life.
That same law had a very different effect on everyone else.
In Psalm 40 the Lord comes into view saying, "I delight to do Your will, O my God; Your law is within My heart." This is the true answer to the tablets of stone in the ark. 2 Corinthians 3 calls those same tablets a ministry of death. Remember that, and we see the infinite moral distance between Christ as man and the whole human race. What was to man, even under God's own training, a ministry of death, was in Him the delight of His heart and the very food of His being. But God's thought was to possess the heart of man. Hebrews 10 gives the end in view: "I will put my laws on their hearts, and write them on their minds." They shall take their character from Christ.
The delight is real, and so is the agony it led into. Writers do not blur the two.
Was there any law that required Him to offer Himself in sacrifice? No! He delighted to do the will of God, even though it meant suffering more dreadful than anyone else could endure. Of course, the Lord Jesus did not delight to suffer. In fact, He pleaded with the Father to spare Him that agony, but added, "nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done" (Luke 22:42). He willingly did the Father's will, though this meant setting aside His own will.
The wording itself carries that distinction. Hebrews 10 quotes the psalm but leaves out "delight":
Notice how Psalm 40 says "I delight", while the quotation in Hebrews 10 leaves "I delight" out. The reason is that Psalm 40 has mainly the burnt offering in view, while Hebrews 10 also has the sin offering in view. The Son always delighted to do the Father's will in burnt-offering character. But it was no delight to Him to be made sin in sin-offering character. So when sin is in view, "I delight" drops away.
A willing heart alone was not enough.
But what was the object in doing this? Not only to keep the law which had been broken, but personally to be a sacrifice. To bring sinners into God's presence, He had to do more than keep the law Himself. He had to become obedient to death, even the death of the cross. He might preach righteousness in the congregation, but men hated it; He might do all kinds of good works, but they envied Him and mocked Him.
- Will — counselled. Verse 8 is the Son speaking as man on earth, carrying out what was already written in the scroll before He came.
- Will — delighted in. His obedience never began with a competing wish He had to give up; God's will was the only will He had.
- Will — kept. The law stayed unbroken in one heart alone, the true ark. What was death to everyone else was His food.
- Will — costly. He delighted in the will, not in the suffering. Still He prayed, "not my will, but yours, be done."
- Will — reproduced. God's aim runs on from Christ to His people. He writes His laws on their hearts, so they take their character from Christ.
I have published righteousness in the great congregation behold, I have not withheld my lips, Jehovah, *thou* knowest.
Here the speaker looks back on what He preached, and calls God as His witness. Commentators read the words as the voice of Christ serving in Israel — older translations render the line "I have published righteousness in the great congregation," and that is the wording they comment on.
The one speaking is the same one who said "Behold, I have come" a verse earlier. His preaching flowed out of that offering of Himself.
"Lo, I come" is the word of the Son freely offering Himself to do the whole will of God in His work here on earth, according to the eternal counsels of the Godhead… In the great congregation of Israel, as He carried on His service to Jehovah, He had not shrunk from preaching righteousness, whatever reception He met with. He had not held back His lips. He had been faithful to His service at all cost.
Where and when did Israel gather as "the great congregation"?
Then in Ps. 40:9, "I have preached righteousness in the great congregation." Where is the great congregation found? When the males of Israel appeared before Jehovah three times a year. So the Lord appeared there too, for it was fitting for Him to fulfil all righteousness. He gave out what the Father gave to Him. "And He said, You seek to kill Me, a man who has told you the truth." This is how He was treated in "the great congregation."
So what did He preach, and why does the verse end "as you know, O LORD"? One writer answers both.
In verses 9, 10, we have the perfectness of His service. He has preached righteousness before the whole people of Israel; He has not shrunk from it, nor hidden it within His heart. This is a lesson to all of us, though it must be used with divine guidance. What He preached was God's righteousness — His ways, nature, judgments, His judgment of evil, and what He was in judging it. It was His faithfulness too, and salvation, for Jehovah was this to Israel, and His lovingkindness and truth. He had preached righteousness to man, and preached it perfectly. He had fully declared what Jehovah was towards Israel, in all the perfectness of His nature and character. All this was done, and He appeals to it as fully carried out.
Some people read gentleness as weakness. One writer uses this verse to answer them.
The world despises such a spirit, tramples it under foot, and completely misunderstands it. People call graciousness cowardice. Yet never was one so faithful as He who is the pattern of grace. Look at Ps. 40:9… "I have preached righteousness in the great congregation" — the very opposite of cowardice. And His meekness and gentleness fit perfectly with the fullest faithfulness.
His trial tested that claim. Notice His answer to the high priest.
They bind Him, and lead Him to Annas, who in turn sends Him bound to Caiaphas. The high priest asks Him about His teaching. The Lord does not answer him. He only says that He had spoken openly to the world, teaching in the synagogue and in the temple. He had not hidden God's righteousness in His heart. He had not kept His loving-kindness and His truth from the great congregation. In secret He had said nothing.
Holding nothing back had a price. One writer names it.
Then He "preached righteousness in the great congregation." This cost Him His life. He fully made good God's character in the world. He went out to all the people. He declared God's faithfulness. He did not hide His righteousness within His heart. And as a result He got into miry clay — that is, into everything that can press a man down.
Jonah was a prophet who ran from the errand God gave him. One writer sets him beside Christ.
In this Jonah is a perfect contrast with our blessed Lord, the faithful witness… Jonah fled rather than speak out the message of his God. The responsibility of testimony is always the greatest test. In the case of the blessed Lord Himself, it was His testimony that stirred up the bitter hatred of the world.
- Offering — "Lo, I come" came first. He gave Himself to do the whole will of God, and His preaching flowed out of that.
- Content — He preached God's righteousness, faithfulness, salvation, lovingkindness and truth. He told out God's character in full.
- Place — the great congregation was Israel gathered before the Lord three times a year. He took the message to the largest crowd there was.
- Courage — holding nothing back is the opposite of cowardice. It went hand in hand with His meekness. He said nothing in secret.
- Cost — this preaching cost Him His life. It is the test every servant faces, and the test Jonah ran from.
I have not hidden thy righteousness within my heart; I have declared thy faithfulness and thy salvation I have not concealed thy loving-kindness and thy truth from the great congregation.
Psalm 40 puts words in the mouth of One who came to do God's will, and here He reports on His work as a witness to the whole nation. What did He tell them, why did He hold nothing back, and what did it cost Him?
(Note: the writers below use older translations. Where the ESV says "your deliverance," they say "Your righteousness.")
Who says "I" in this verse? One writer answers from the way the New Testament uses the psalm.
I hardly need to say that Christ Himself is the One spoken of here. The apostle quotes the psalm as His words, as He takes up that blessed work which set the old figures and symbols aside... In the great congregation of Israel, while carrying on His service to Jehovah, He did not shrink from preaching righteousness, whatever reception He met. He did not keep silent. He had been faithful to His service at all cost, and the One He proclaimed was Jehovah. He held nothing back before the whole nation of Israel: His righteousness, His faithfulness, His salvation, His loving-kindness, and His truth.
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The verse names five things about God, one after another. One writer counts them and follows where they go next.
Psalm 40 sets five great characteristics of God before us... There we see the Son telling out the heart of God in detail. Now the Holy Spirit gathers up all those details and presents them to men in the gospel.
To hide something "within the heart" is to know it and stay silent.
In His path of service Christ was the faithful witness. He perfectly carried out the will of God in the midst of Israel — the great congregation. There He was absolutely faithful to Jehovah. He did not refrain His lips, or hide the truth in His heart for fear of consequences.
Why would anyone stay quiet? One writer gives two reasons.
He did not keep silent, as some do who are not ready to suffer for the truth of God. He had not hidden God's righteousness within His heart. That righteousness reveals everything as it really is, and so it often makes men uncomfortable.
The verse pairs faithfulness with salvation, and loving-kindness with truth. One writer shows why those pairs hold together.
God's faithfulness is vitally important, because it is totally dependable. So we may fully depend on the truth of His salvation — a salvation all mankind deeply needs, yet commonly ignores. In fact, this salvation involves His loving-kindness and His truth. If men could have the loving-kindness without the truth, they might accept it. But in God's salvation both are necessary, and together they form a beautiful combination.
"The great congregation" is not a vague crowd. One writer ties the phrase to a definite body of people, and to the risk of speaking in front of them.
He spoke openly... The crowd did not dare to speak out; but Jesus did. He did not conceal His righteousness and truth in the great congregation. He had not held back His words, and God, His own Father, knew that. The great congregation is always the nation of the Jews, as such.
Speaking like this had a price.
He was the Faithful and True Witness from the first breath He drew in the manger to His last upon the cross... But this made Him the target of Satan's relentless and unyielding malice, and of the scorn and hatred of men. The Faithful and True Witness was the Man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. How popular He might have been if He had only compromised a little... But He would not compromise. He fully revealed the nature of God, which is love, but He also bore true witness to God's holiness and hatred of sin.
- Speaker — the "I" of this verse is Christ. The New Testament quotes the psalm as His own words.
- Told — He named five things about God: righteousness, faithfulness, salvation, loving-kindness and truth. That is the heart of God in detail.
- Untold — He left nothing untold. He did not hide truth in His heart for fear of what it would cost Him.
- Public — the "great congregation" is the whole nation. He spoke out where others did not dare, and His Father knew it.
- Costly — that same faithful witness made Him the Man of sorrows. What He declared then now reaches all people in the gospel.
Withhold not thou, Jehovah, thy tender mercies from me; let thy loving-kindness and thy truth continually preserve me.
Psalm 40 turns here: the One who declared God's steadfast love and faithfulness now asks those two things to keep Him. Commentators read this as the voice of Christ, so why does a perfect Servant pray for keeping at all?
So far the psalm has been celebration and witness. Here the tone changes.
Verses 11-17. The structure of this Psalm is unusual. It begins by celebrating deliverance in victory before it comes. Yet its closing lines are deep, grief-laden pleading. It mixes confession that suited the gracious lips of our Substitute with pleading for those who seek salvation from the Lord.
So the closing plea is not private. It carries others with it.
He asks to be kept by the two things He had already declared: steadfast love and faithfulness. He needs keeping because His witness made enemies.
(vv. 11-12) Christ looks to Jehovah to keep Him by the loving-kindness and truth that He had so faithfully declared. His faithful witness brought opposition: men who hated Him sought to destroy Him. So He can speak of countless evils surrounding Him.
The order matters. First comes the faithful witness. Only then does He speak of iniquities — and they are the iniquities of others, which He takes as His own.
He had been faithful in testifying what God was among Israel. He desires their blessing, though He Himself is poor and needy. He has indeed taken the iniquities of all the remnant on Himself, and calls them His. Then, in the trial that comes on Him, He appeals against His bitter enemies. He appeals to God's righteousness to show mercy, and to deliver on the ground of His faithfulness. It is after this faithfulness that He speaks of the iniquities taking hold on Him.
Older translations call this pair "loving-kindness" and "truth". Why does He ask for both, and not for love alone?
This salvation involves His loving-kindness and His truth. If men could have the loving-kindness without the truth, they might accept that. But God's salvation needs both, and together they form a beautiful combination.
Some Bibles read the line as a request, "do not withhold." Others read it as a settled statement, "you will not restrain." Either way, He asks — and He already knows the answer.
Having such a basis for prayer, surely He will have a complete answer to His request. Certainly the Lord Jesus knew perfectly well that this would be true. Yet it is precious that His dependence on the living God is so clearly expressed.
Where is He when He prays this? Not in safety. He prays while carrying sins and facing the wrath they deserve.
Look at Him in the "pit of destruction"! Countless evils press upon Him, and they press as the righteous wrath of God upon countless sins. He is suffering for something that lies over Him like a hideous shadow. As He takes in its awful weight, it presses Him down, makes His heart fail, and leaves His eyes unable to look up. He confesses these sins as His own. Even so, He can appeal not only to God's "loving-kindness" but to His "truth" to deliver Him. We can understand this of the Sin-bearer alone.
- Declared — He made God's steadfast love and faithfulness known to others. Now He asks those same two things to keep Him.
- Opposed — the faithful witness came first. The countless evils came after. Hatred was the price of speaking.
- Paired — people would take love without truth. God's salvation needs both, and they belong together.
- Sustained — under the weight of confessed sins He still pleads God's truth. Commentators say only the Sin-bearer could speak this way.
- Assured — He knew the answer before He asked, and He prayed anyway. He shows His dependence on the living God instead of assuming it.
For innumerable evils have compassed me about mine iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I cannot see; they are more than the hairs of my head and my heart hath failed me.
Verse 12 turns without warning. The same speaker who has just praised God's faithfulness before the great assembly now calls the iniquities pressing on Him His own — so whose sins are these?
Writers apply this psalm to Christ. So how can He confess iniquity? They answer with substitution: the load was real, but the sins were not His.
This psalm names three things beyond counting. The innumerable evils crowded around Him and reached their climax when He took our iniquities on Himself in our place. "My iniquities... are more than the hairs of My head" — that is only another way of saying they cannot be counted. Such words can come from the sinless, holy lips of our Lord in only one sense: substitution. "The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all."
Another writer names whose sins He carried:
It is Christ taking the iniquities of the house of Israel on Himself, though it is equally true for us.
The verse says nothing about sorrow over personal failure, and nothing about relief. It describes pressure — sins taking hold of Him. Where the ESV reads "I cannot see," older translations render the line "I am not able to look up," and the writers below use that wording.
In Psalm 40, where we have Christ personally again, we find Him pleading His entire and unfaltering faithfulness. But He came to do God's will, and to do it through the offering of His body once for all. So His iniquities take such hold on Him that He is not able to look up. They are more in number than the hairs on His head. It is not His being sorry for them, or remission, as deliverance or relief, but the weight of them on Him.
Our own confession of sin is always thin. We never feel the horror of our sin as it deserves.
The fortieth Psalm speaks of the confession and burden of sins, which others can know, though only fully entered into by Christ. It is right that the believer should confess and feel the horror of his sins. Still, he will always feel how poorly he has confessed them, and how little he has felt their horror. Yet, for our comfort, we know they have been fully confessed, and the burden of all their horror has been fully borne. Confessing our sins as His own, the Lord could say, "My iniquities have taken hold of Me, so that I am not able to look up."
The sins were never His, so why confess them? The confession clears God's name and puts our guilt on record as truly transferred.
As in other Psalms, He confesses the sins which He had taken on Himself. Such confession vindicates God. It is also a gracious acceptance of what had been laid on Him. So we may have strong consolation, knowing our sins were truly charged to His account — as the high priest, under the law, confessed Israel's sins over the head of the scapegoat.
Commentators differ on whether verse 12 arrives at atonement itself or stops just short of it. One writer reads the whole scene as substitution complete:
This is the full reality of substitution. Perhaps no other words press it on us so strongly. It is the One for the many, with the iniquity of the many piled on Him. "The Lord has laid on Him" — caused to fall on Him — "the iniquity of us all." (Isa. 53:6.)
Others stop short, pointing to the prayer against enemies two verses later:
As far as this Psalm goes, we cannot think that it includes atonement. In this verse the Lord identifies Himself with His people's sins, so fully that He can say, "My iniquities have taken hold of Me." But this is the furthest point, we judge, that the Psalm reaches. It does not go forward to expiation. The reason for this conclusion is found in verse 14, where He prays for the confusion of His enemies. In Psalm 22, where atonement is so strikingly presented, there is no calling down of judgment on His adversaries.
The psalm's third thing beyond counting is not sin.
Verse 5 speaks of the many and wonderful thoughts and works of God, which are "more than can be numbered" — they too are beyond counting. He died as a sacrifice not only to blot out our sins, but also to express and carry out the glorious thoughts and purposes of God. The works He has done are indeed many, but His thoughts are more, for a whole crowd of them are not yet worked out in works.
- Innumerable sins. The iniquities here are not the Speaker's own. Sinless lips can say "mine" only in the sense of substitution.
- Innumerable weight. The verse describes pressure, not regret — the load pressing so hard He cannot look up.
- Innumerable comfort. We confess our sins poorly. He confessed them fully, and bore the whole horror of them.
- Innumerable certainty. His confession vindicates God. It proves our sins were truly charged to Him, as the high priest confessed Israel's sins over the scapegoat.
- Innumerable purpose. Writers differ on whether the psalm reaches atonement here. But its last count is God's thoughts — more than can be numbered, and not yet worked out.
Be pleased, O Jehovah, to deliver me; Jehovah, make haste to my help.
The psalm has turned from praise to pressure. Evils and iniquities close in around the Speaker, and out of that comes a short, urgent cry for rescue. It raises the first question every reader faces: who confesses these sins as His own, and yet is sinless?
This cry follows verse 12, where the Speaker owns sins as His own. Commentators tie that confession to God's own will for His people.
The accomplishment of God's will led Christ into yet deeper sufferings. God's will is to free His people from everything unsuited to God, through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ. For that will to be done, Christ must bear the sins of His people. Here then we see Christ confessing the sins of His people as His own, and bearing the burden of them.
The plea rests on unusual ground. The One weighed down by sins that are not His own still appeals to God's truth as well as God's loving-kindness.
Behold Him then in the "pit of destruction"! Countless evils press on Him there, and they come as the righteous wrath of God against iniquities just as countless. He is suffering for that load. He takes it in as it lies over Him like a hideous shadow and presses Him down with its awful weight, until His heart fails and His eyes cannot look up. These iniquities He confesses as His own, while yet He can appeal, not only to God's "loving-kindness," but to His "truth," to deliver Him. We can understand this of the Sin-bearer alone.
The psalm opened with patient waiting, and here the same Speaker asks God to hurry. That looks like a contradiction until we separate the crying from the waiting.
Verse 13 and following are the resurrection, the answer to the patience of Christ... Then the pleading in the circumstances, crying to God, is no sign of impatience. His waiting for the answer — that is, the patience, not the crying — would be in silence of heart: how much of that is there?
He turns outward instead. He never tried to rescue Himself, though the power to escape was His.
Here is Christ's real association with His people on earth. He was with them not only in their sorrows, but at last bore their sins, so that all who looked to Him might be blessed with Him. "As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me." Christ did not take one step to save Himself. He might have had twelve legions of angels, but He was waiting on the Lord.
The same writer turns this toward our own confession of sin, and toward the pattern we can copy.
It is right that the believer should confess and feel the horror of his sins. Still, he will always feel how poorly he has confessed them, and how faintly he has felt their horror. Yet, for our comfort, we know they have been fully confessed, and the whole burden of their horror has been fully borne. In this severe trial He became the perfect pattern for others. He looked only to the Lord to deliver and help Him.
This prayer already has its answer in history. One writer names the event, and what follows from it for those who opposed Him.
This last section of the psalm is repeated in Psalm 70, where it follows Psalm 69, the trespass offering psalm. There, as here, it stresses the Lord's resurrection after His great sacrifice. We know this prayer is fully answered today in the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. So we see the results of His great sacrifice in His being raised from the dead, completely defeating the power of the enemy. For those who refuse the Lord Jesus, the result is confusion and destruction, as verses 14 and 15 show. Those who sought His life thought they had won when they crucified Him. But His crucifixion sounded their own ruin, because God raised Him from the dead.
Commentators differ on how far the closing section belongs to Christ alone. Some read verses 13–17 as the Sin-bearer's own prayer. Others hear the same words on the lips of suffering people who no longer trust their own righteousness.
In the last times these later verses may perhaps be heard on the lips of people whose hearts are then filled with the spirit of prayer. Their own righteousness will look to them like filthy rags.
- Burden — The plea rises out of verse 12: He confesses sins as His own, though none of them are His.
- Ground — He appeals to God's loving-kindness and to God's truth. Only the Sin-bearer could pray that way.
- Manner — Crying to God for haste is not impatience; the patience is the silent waiting for the answer.
- Pattern — He took no step to save Himself. He is the model for anyone who looks only to the Lord for help.
- Answer — The resurrection is the reply: confusion for those who sought His life, and these same words later prayed by others who look to Him.
Let them be ashamed and brought to confusion together that seek after my soul to destroy it; let them be turned backward and confounded that take pleasure in mine adversity;
In this verse the Speaker prays against His enemies. He asks God to shame and turn back those who hunt His life and enjoy His pain. It raises two questions at once: whose voice is this, and may a believer today pray such words?
Commentators hear the voice of Christ through this whole psalm. He stands with a suffering people in Israel, and this prayer against enemies is His.
Christ here celebrates His own deliverance — but in connection with Israel and the earth. He had faithfully testified what God was among Israel. He desires their blessing, Himself poor and needy. He has indeed taken the iniquities of all the remnant on Himself, and calls them His. Then, in the trial that comes on Him, He appeals against His bitter enemies. He looks, through it all, to the driving back of the wicked, and the blessing of the just remnant who look to Jehovah.
This verse sorts people into two groups. God shames one group; the other seeks Him and rejoices.
The verses that follow distinguish the godly remnant in Israel from the Christ-rejecting mass of the nation. Those who rejected the faithful witness of Christ in life and in death will be put to shame. Those who seek the Lord and His salvation will rejoice and magnify the Lord.
The plea to turn enemies back has a striking echo in the arrest of Jesus. Armed men came for Him, and He answered them, "I am he" — older translations read simply "I AM".
We also see His mighty power as a divine Person. He said "I am he", and His enemies "drew back and fell to the ground". They stood in the presence of the great I AM, the One with all power. The world can do nothing against Him, despite all its forces with their lanterns and torches and weapons. When the Lord of glory "came forward", His enemies "drew back". So the psalmist, speaking prophetically of Christ, can say, "Let them be turned back and brought to dishonor who delight in my hurt."
Commentators differ on timing. Some look ahead to the deliverance of a suffering people. Others say God answered this prayer when He raised Christ.
We know the resurrection of the Lord Jesus answers this prayer perfectly today. So we see the results of His great sacrifice in His rising from the dead, which completely defeats the power of the enemy. So those who refuse the Lord Jesus meet confusion and destruction, as verses 14 and 15 show. Those who sought His life thought they had won when they crucified Him. But His crucifixion sounded their own terrible death-knell, for God raised Him from the dead.
Commentators also use this verse to mark how far Psalm 40 goes. Its prayer for judgment sets a boundary that Psalm 22 does not have.
As far as this psalm goes, we cannot think that it includes atonement… The reason for this conclusion lies in verse 14. There He prays for the confusion of His enemies. Psalm 22 presents atonement in a striking way, yet it calls down no judgment on His adversaries. Instead, after the resurrection, grace flows out in ever-widening circles until it reaches the ends of the world, and they "remember and turn to the LORD."
Some have tried to soften the verse by reading it as a prediction rather than a prayer. One writer answers that the words stand as they are, and that a different explanation clears the difficulty.
The man who proposes this change has to admit that the New Testament keeps the command form, instead of changing it into the future… The difference in God's dealing clears everything up, without forcing the text. When God judges enemies, as He did long ago and will again, His people share in it to some degree. Now He is displaying sovereign grace, and another spirit of action suits them.
So the believer meets hatred with different words today.
The language of this psalm is by no means that which Christians today are expected to use. For we have the privilege of living in the day of grace. We may rightly prefer the language of the Lord Jesus: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Or that of Stephen when he was martyred: "Lord, do not hold this sin against them."
- Speaker. The voice is Christ. He takes His place with a suffering people, takes their iniquities as His own, and appeals against His enemies.
- Turned back. The plea was pictured when armed men came to arrest Jesus and instead drew back and fell to the ground at His word.
- Answered. Those who sought His life thought the cross was their victory. His resurrection turned it into their own confusion.
- Limit. This prayer for judgment shows the psalm stops short of atonement. Psalm 22 calls down no such judgment.
- Ours. God's present dealing is grace, so the believer's word to enemies is not this one, but "Father, forgive them."
Let them be desolate, because of their shame, that say unto me, Aha! Aha!
Psalm 40 opens with a man lifted out of a pit and given a new song. It ends with a cry against the enemies who hunt him and jeer at him. This verse is the sharp edge of that cry. It asks that the mockers' own scorn fall back on them. So who is speaking here? And can anyone pray such words today?
The first half of the psalm describes a great work done for God. The closing verses then turn to the people who watch it.
The second part of the psalm shows the opposite results of this glorious work. People either accept it, or they are found hostile to it. This part is repeated, with very slight changes, as a psalm of its own (Psalm 70)... Here it forms the last part of the psalm of the burnt offering.
It is a shout, not an argument. What it means depends on who is making it.
"An exclamation of joy, of terror, or of mockery." (Fürst.) Psalm 35:25; Psalm 40:15; Isaiah 44:16; Jeremiah 22:18; Ezekiel 25:3, and others.
The same shout returns in the Gospel record. Psalm 70 repeats these closing verses almost word for word. Commenting there, one writer traces the shout to the cross:
We have here much the language of the closing verses of Psalm 40. And it is a fitting utterance for the man of many, many sorrows, and might have been often repeated... We may remember, in connection with verse 3, the railing of Mark 15:29.
God answered this prayer by raising the One they mocked. Their moment of triumph was the moment they sealed their own ruin.
We know this prayer is perfectly answered today in the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. We see the results of His great sacrifice in His being raised from the dead, which totally defeated the power of the enemy. So for those who refuse the Lord Jesus, the result is confusion and destruction, as verses 14 and 15 show. Those who sought His life thought they had won the victory when they crucified Him. But His crucifixion sounded their own terrible death-knell, for God raised Him from the dead. Their mocking words, such as "Aha, Aha" (v. 15), came back as a devastating boomerang to utterly confound them.
Who is the "me" of this verse? Commentators hear the voice of Christ, standing with the faithful remnant of Israel — the few who stayed true to God.
Psalm 40. Christ here celebrates His own deliverance — but in connection with Israel and the earth... He desires their blessing, Himself poor and needy. He has indeed taken the iniquities of all the remnant on Himself, and calls them His, and appeals, in the trial that then comes on Him, against His bitter enemies... He looks, through it all, to the driving back of the wicked, and the blessing of the just remnant who look to Jehovah.
Judgment on the wicked and blessing on the faithful are two halves of one answer. But can a Christian pray these words against his own enemies? Commentators face that question head on.
Yet we may reasonably suppose that no believer has ever used the Psalms this way, in private and in public, without meeting difficulties he cannot answer. To escape them, he is always in danger of the evil of "accommodating" and twisting God's word. Compare Psalm 5:10; Psalm 7:6... Psalm 40:14-15... So the atmosphere throughout is earthly judicial righteousness. It is not the heavenly grace by which the Christian is now called to feel, pray, worship and walk.
A note on wording: an older translation reads "Let them be desolate, because of their shame," where the ESV has "Let those be appalled because of their shame."
- Setting — the verse closes the psalm of the burnt offering. Its second half sorts people by how they answer the work described in the first half.
- Sound — "Aha, aha" can express joy, terror or mockery. Here it is the jeer of enemies, heard again in the mocking at the cross.
- Speaker — commentators hear Christ, poor and needy. He takes the sins of the faithful remnant as His own and appeals against His enemies.
- Reversal — God answered by raising Him. The taunt came back on the men who thought the cross was their victory.
- Use — the prayer belongs to earthly judicial righteousness. The Christian walks by heavenly grace instead, and does not borrow these words as his own.
Let all those that seek thee be glad and rejoice in thee; let such as love thy salvation say continually, Jehovah be magnified!
This closing section of Psalm 40 divides humanity into two groups by their response to one Man — those who are His enemies, and those who seek God. The One who asks joy for the seekers is still in trouble Himself.
This is a prayer, and the One praying is the sufferer of the whole psalm. He has done the work. Now He gathers others into the joy He has with God, and keeps the place of need for Himself.
By the sacrifice of Himself He made atonement for everything in us that did not fit with His own love. So He joins all those He loved like this, and for whom He died, to Himself in His own delight in the God He glorified. He says, "Let all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; let those who love your salvation say continually, Jehovah be magnified." Yet He who did the work that brought "His own" so near to God takes His own place of distance for our sake, and adds, "but I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinks upon me. You are my help and my deliverer."
A note on wording: the writers quoted here use an older translation. Where the ESV reads "Great is the LORD!", it reads "let Jehovah be magnified." Jehovah is God's personal name, which the ESV prints as "the LORD."
The psalm asks shame for His enemies. This verse asks joy for a different set of people. What sorts them is not their circumstances but how they answered Him when He came. The writer below calls the second group the godly remnant — the faithful few who still seek God.
In this state He desires that those who seek Jehovah may be able to praise Him, and to say continually, Let Jehovah be magnified. He desires that the others be ashamed and confused. He separates the godly remnant who seek Jehovah from those who are enemies of the One who reveals God's name, even when He is presented faithfully and lovingly.
He does not ask for relief first. Both things He asks for concern other people: His enemies removed, and the weak made glad.
He asks that the ungodly, found to be His enemies, be set aside. He asks that the poor of the flock be able to praise, rejoice, and be glad in Jehovah.
The verse does not say "those who need salvation" but those who love it. What they love is a finished work, and they have a share in it.
But what of the results for those who seek the Lord? They have perfect reason to rejoice and be glad in Him (v. 16). John 20:20 tells us the same thing on the very day of His resurrection: "Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord." Every believer loves His salvation, accomplished by the cross and His resurrection. So we never tire of responding continually, "The Lord be magnified" — for we have a vital part in the value of that salvation.
This verse belongs to the closing half of the psalm. Those closing words also stand somewhere else in the book.
The second part of the psalm presents the contrasting results of this glorious work, depending on whether people accept it or are found hostile to it. This part is repeated, with very slight changes, as a psalm on its own (Psalm 70).
The gladness asked for here points somewhere, and so do the sufferings behind it.
This is the desire: that those who fear God, and look for His deliverance, may be glad and rejoice in Jehovah. Let those who rejoice in God's salvation say continually, "Let God be magnified." Let them see that the sufferings are accepted, and deliverance looked for, to glorify God.
Wanting the Lord magnified is the opposite of wanting yourself magnified. It shows in how believers treat each other.
May we prove that the grace of God is enough to keep us from the sin of self-exaltation. Instead of looking down on our brothers and sisters, let us seek, by that same grace, to value others more highly than ourselves, and say, "The Lord be magnified."
- Asked — this joy is not a general wish. The One who suffered asks for it while He is still "poor and needy."
- Divided — the same psalm shames His enemies and gladdens the seekers. What sorts them is how they answered Him.
- Given — He shares with others the delight He has with God, and keeps the place of distance for Himself.
- Loved — the glad are known by what they love: a finished salvation they share in.
- Magnified — the result is one sentence, said continually. It is also the cure for self-exaltation: not us, but the Lord.
But I am afflicted and needy the Lord thinketh upon me. Thou art my help and my deliverer my God, make no delay.
The psalm opens with patient waiting and ends with a confession of poverty. Commentators read this last line as the voice of Christ at the close of His path, and as the ground of confidence for anyone who has nothing.
These words close a psalm about a life lived to do God's will. One writer ties the assurance in them back to the deliverance described in the psalm's opening verses.
So the Lord closes His path in this world as One who is poor and needy. Yet, having perfectly fulfilled the will of God, He has the assurance that God thinks upon Him, and will be His help and His deliverer. This leads to the glorious end stated in the opening verses. God hears Christ, delivers Him, and establishes Him on resurrection ground, as the Leader of a new song "to our God."
To call God "my help and my deliverer" is to refuse to rescue yourself. One writer hears Christ speaking here, and points to the rescue He could have called for and did not.
Here Christ truly joins Himself to His people on earth. He shares their sorrows, and at last He bears their sins, so that all who looked to Him might be blessed with Him. "As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me." Christ did not take one step to save Himself. He might have had twelve legions of angels, but He was waiting on the Lord.
The verse before this one calls others to rejoice; this one leaves the speaker in need. One writer reads that gap as an exchange, and presses it home as a question of peace with God.
"But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you," and so on. "As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me." I and the others — I have taken the sorrow for them, and they must rejoice… Until you are broken down to feel that your sin is great, you cannot have peace. You are mixing in something of your own. If you get Christ instead of yourself, because you yourself are so bad, then you can say, The Lord has put away my sin; I am accepted in the Beloved.
The closing plea asks God not to delay. One writer hears patience in that prayer, and names the two marks of a life turned toward God.
It is beautiful to see His perfect patience under trial, so that God's whole will may be done. He seeks the joy and full blessing of the poor remnant. Yet He Himself takes the place of complete dependence on the Lord, and prays for Him to come in as God. Obedience and dependence are the two marks of the divine life at work in man towards God.
The same words fit every believer. One writer names who the Lord delights to think upon, and how soon His help comes.
By nature we are "poor and needy" (v. 17). Yet we remember that the Lord of glory became poor and needy for us. And it is those in such need, not the wealthy and self-sufficient, whom the Lord delights to think upon. He is their help and their deliverer, and He will not delay His help any longer than necessary.
Because the Lord said this of Himself, the way anyone treats a poor person becomes a way of treating Him. One writer draws that line, and warns what riches do to the heart.
He who despises the poor because of his poverty despises the Lord Himself. "As for me," says the Lord, "I am poor and needy," Psalm 40:17… We all know that a poor man may be just as wicked as anyone else. But riches are a real danger to us. They feed pride, and they tend to make the heart keep its distance from the poor — and the Lord joined Himself with the poor in this world.
- Poor. He ends His path with nothing in hand, having done all God's will. Poverty here is the finish of obedience, not a failure.
- Waiting. He would not save Himself when He could have. He waited for God to act. Dependence and obedience mark the whole path.
- Exchanged. He took the sorrow so others could rejoice. Peace comes when you stop mixing in something of your own and take Christ instead of yourself.
- Remembered. God's thought rests on the needy, not on the self-sufficient. He never delays His help longer than is needed.
- Reflected. The Lord placed Himself among the poor. So to despise a poor person is to despise Him. Riches are the danger: they feed pride and keep the heart at a distance.
(To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David.) Blessed is he that understandeth the poor Jehovah will deliver him in the day of evil.
The first book of Psalms closes with a blessing that hides a question. Who is "the poor" that the happy man considers? The answer shapes the whole psalm — the deliverance promised, the sickness, the betrayal by a close friend.
The verb is not casual. It means paying attention to someone others overlook. It means recognising him and owning him. The psalm makes that recognition the door into blessing.
This Psalm is the result of recognising Christ in His low estate. So in the day of evil — that time of trouble which is coming — the Lord will deliver such a man. He will "keep him alive," so that "he shall be blessed upon the earth." … "Blessed is the man who walks," etc. — "Blessed is the man whose sin is forgiven, is covered" — "Blessed is the man who recognises," or "owns," "considers," "pays attention to," Christ, that poor Man, in His utter, utter humiliation!
The Hebrew behind "poor" is not simply about having no money. Its root picture is something swinging and unsteady. That opens the psalm's puzzle: why is this man so weak?
This word "poor," although a possible rendering of the Hebrew, is not the only one possible, nor (I believe) its meaning in this case. The meaning of the original is "swinging, waving to and fro," so also "wavering, weak, exhausted." It can therefore stand for "poor." But this weakness may, of course, come from something very different — from injury or from sickness. And here the puzzle of the psalm begins.
Take the verse as a reward for giving to charity, and the rest of the psalm no longer fits — the slander, the sickbed, the betrayal by a friend. Take it as a blessing on those who understand Christ in His poverty, and the psalm holds together.
The first part gives us the blessedness of knowing that Poor Man, whose poverty makes many rich. Only with such an application can we see the true significance of this blessedness. To treat it as the reward for simple kindness, as many think, would not only miss the gospel. It would make the body of the psalm impossible to understand. The subject of the psalm, as even the first verse shows, implies a mystery. There is something that needs an understanding heart, and that something concerns in some way the "poor man." Faith penetrates the mystery and finds unspeakable blessing. Unbelief reads it in quite another way, and gets the opposite reward.
Commentators do not read the psalm as speaking of Christ alone. The blessing rests on the man who understands the place of the godly sufferers in Israel. Christ took that place so fully that to consider them is to recognise Him.
This is the blessedness of the man who considers (or "understands") the position of the godly remnant in Israel — those here called "the poor." As we know from the Gospels, Christ fully entered this position and tasted their sorrows. So there are expressions in the psalm which are used by Christ, though the psalm as a whole cannot be applied only to Him. Still, Christ entered the position and sorrows of the poor of the flock so perfectly that the blessedness is not only in considering the poor remnant. It is above all in recognising Christ as the poor Man, who identified Himself with the godly.
The "day of trouble" is not one kind of trouble. The rest of the psalm names several, and the promise covers them all.
Are they called to endure persecution (2)? Or sickness at the hand of God (3, 4)? Or the tongue of slander (5)? Or betrayal by a close friend (9)? Whatever the trial, Jehovah will deliver the one who considers the poor (1) out of all of it. … He will uphold him in his integrity, and set him before His face for ever.
Because the Lord took the place of poverty Himself, the way a person treats the poor is never merely social. It is a verdict on Him.
James addresses the rich. They have possessions in this world, and they do not consider the poor — while "blessed is the one who considers the poor." Anyone who despises the poor because of his poverty despises the Lord Himself. "As for me," says the Lord in the psalm just before this one, "I am poor and needy." … Riches are a real danger to us. They feed pride, and they tend to make the heart keep its distance from the poor — and the Lord associated Himself with the poor in this world.
The same writer turned it into plain counsel:
Be much among the poor. The Lord always owns it, it was always His way, and it has its own peculiar importance in more ways than people suppose.
- See — "Considers" means to recognise, own, pay attention to. The blessing starts with seeing the One others passed by in His humiliation.
- Poor — The word pictures weakness, wavering, exhaustion, not just empty pockets. The psalm's puzzle is what caused that weakness.
- Christ — Treat the verse as a reward for kindness and the rest of the psalm becomes unreadable. It is the happiness of knowing the Poor Man whose poverty makes many rich.
- His people — Commentators differ on how far the psalm speaks of Christ Himself. They agree He entered the sorrows of the poor so deeply that to consider them is to recognise Him.
- Kept — Persecution, sickness, slander, betrayal. Whatever the day of trouble holds, the Lord delivers the man who considers the poor, upholds his integrity, and sets him before His face for ever.
Jehovah will preserve him, and keep him alive; he shall be made happy in the land; and thou wilt not deliver him to the will of his enemies.
Verse 1 blesses the person who gives thought to the poor. This verse says what God gives back: protection, preserved life, blessing in the land, and rescue from enemies — but who is "the poor" here, and where is that blessing given?
One writer reads "the poor" here as one person, and names Him:
"Blessed is the one who considers the poor" — that is, the poor Man. And who is the poor Man? Christ! So considering the poor Man does not mean giving money to the needy; it means considering Him. "Blessed are the poor in spirit." It is a blessed thing to be emptied of self like this. The world would call you poor-spirited; that is exactly it, but the Lord counts such people "blessed."
Faith is what recognises Him, and the promise of deliverance follows:
The clear sight of faith sees the glory of Christ under the veil of His sufferings. That is why "in the day of trouble the LORD delivers him." Whatever kind of evil comes, grace shows itself enough for it. Enemies may be many in a hostile world, but they cannot defeat him: "the LORD protects him and keeps him alive… you do not give him up to the will of his enemies."
The promise works as a mirror:
Psalm 41 — The poor man's place; verses 1-3: whoever treats the weak according to the mind and way of Jehovah, Jehovah will treat him the same way.
The psalm lists the troubles this promise covers, and the ground it stands on:
Are they called to endure persecution (v. 2)? Or sickness from the hand of God (vv. 3, 4)? Or the tongue of slander (v. 5)? Or betrayal by a close friend (v. 9)? Whatever the trial, Jehovah will deliver the one who considers the poor (v. 1) out of all of it. Here we stand on the ground of keeping the law. So Jehovah will uphold that man in his integrity and set him before His face for ever.
The words "in the land" place the promise on earth. That sets the hope in the Psalms apart from the Christian's hope:
The believers in the Psalms belong to the earth in their character, their hopes and their blessings… The blessing held out for the one who understands the poor is this: "the LORD protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land" (Ps. 41:2). Often the blessing has to do with the fruitfulness of the land… The Christian is different. He expects difficulties and sufferings on the earth, but he knows that God has blessed him with "every spiritual blessing" — not "in the land" or "on the earth" but "in the heavenlies" (Eph. 1:3).
That difference does not cancel the verse for readers today. It moves where the preserving happens, even for believers who pass through the last great time of trouble:
"The Lord will preserve him in time of trouble." Even in the Great Tribulation, God will preserve those who turn to the Lord, keeping them alive and blessing them on earth (v. 2). If that is true for saints in the tribulation, how much more for believers today, whose inheritance is not on earth but in heaven. In that case, God may not keep them alive on earth, but He will keep them alive in heaven. Whatever the case may be, the Lord will not deliver any believer to the will of his enemies.
The last clause is God's refusal: He will not hand this man over to what his enemies want. One writer ties this promise to Christ and to the close of the whole book:
Psalm 41 closes the book with the blessing of the man who considers the poor — not the proud but the poor of the flock — because he has God's mind. Christ understood this fully, for He had that mind perfectly, and He took up a sentence from the psalm about a man who was as far from this mind as anyone could be. The wicked do not triumph in the end. So Jehovah favours the despised, even here on earth, though people plot against them. He upholds them in their integrity and sets them before His face for ever.
- Sight. The blessing starts with seeing the poor Man — Christ in His low place — not with handing out money.
- Return. What you do toward the weak, God does toward you: this is the mirror running through verses 1-3.
- Range. The deliverance is not narrow. Persecution, sickness, slander, betrayal by a friend — grace proves enough for each.
- Land. The promise here is earthly: kept alive and blessed in the land. The Christian's blessings are heavenly, so God may keep him alive in heaven instead of on earth.
- Safety. The last word is that enemies do not get their way. God upholds the despised man in his integrity and sets him before His face for ever.
Jehovah will sustain him upon the bed of languishing thou turnest all his bed in his sickness.
Psalm 41 opens with a blessing on the person who takes thought for the weak. Verse 3 shows how far that blessing reaches: right into the sickroom, where God Himself attends the bed. Does the promise mean a believer never dies of illness? And how does a psalm about a sickbed connect with Christ, who was never sick?
The verse is not a general guarantee to everyone who falls ill. It belongs to the man described in verse 1, and its logic is return in kind:
Psalm 41 — the poor man's place. Verses 1-3: whoever acts toward the weak in the mind and way of Jehovah, Jehovah will act the same way toward him.
God is not rewarding a giving habit. The man blessed here understands the place of the lowly and takes it himself:
Psalm 41 shows the blessedness of the man who understands this position of the poor of the flock and enters into it (compare Matt. 5:3; Luke 6:20). It is spoken in the person of one of the suffering remnant — doubtless with the psalmist's own experience.
Verse 2 deals with hostile people. Verse 3 deals with a body that is failing. One writer sets the two side by side:
Whatever the evil is, grace will show that it is enough. The world may be hostile and the enemies many. Still they cannot prevail against him: "Jehovah will preserve him, and keep him alive; and You will not give him up to the will of his enemies." And if the attack comes from within, against the very forces of life, the promise still holds: "Jehovah will sustain him on the bed of languishing: You will make all his bed in his sickness."
The verse promises strength on the bed, not always removal from it. The picture assumes things have gone wrong:
The positive assurance follows in verse 3. Surely this pictures a state of things that brings afflictions such as illness. Circumstances may be far from favourable. But in those circumstances God promises the believer His sustaining grace.
The same writer notes a limit. In the psalm the sufferer is kept alive and blessed on earth. Believers now have their inheritance in heaven. So they may not be kept alive on earth — but they will be kept alive in heaven.
The second half of the verse is tender. Older translations render it as God turning or making the sick man's bed, where the ESV reads "in his illness you restore him to full health."
Written to a suffering friend, one letter takes the verse as something already tested and found true, and names what God uses to soften the bed:
How well you must know Him! How often He has strengthened you on the bed of languishing! How He has made all your bed in your sickness! How often He has enabled you to carry your weak soul in the arms of faith and lay it down on this resting place — His precious word! It is a bed of comfort stuffed with sweet and precious promises.
Sometimes God is the one who puts a person on the sick-bed. There is a purpose in it:
Often God has to put us on a sick-bed to show us in practice what He can do. It is surely a blessed thing to see how He works this way — to see how He proves that He is enough for those whom He lays low. But the blessing of a sick-bed is often just this: God takes away everything else to show us that we have really lost nothing. Before that, we did not quite believe it.
Commentators differ over how directly this psalm speaks of Christ. One reads the sufferer as Christ Himself — "the Weakened One," whose glory faith sees under His sufferings. Another marks a limit. Christ took this place, but not the sickness:
The point of the psalm is this: blessed are those who understand the position of the people Jehovah is dealing with, and who enter into it themselves. This place Christ fully took, though He was not chastened with sickness.
- Cause — the promise follows the man of verse 1: as he treated the weak, so God treats him.
- Care — God does not just visit the sick bed. He holds the sufferer up and turns the bedding Himself.
- Comfort — His word softens that bed. It is a resting place filled with promises.
- Content — the promise is sustaining grace in the illness, not always removal of it. God shows He is enough by taking everything else away.
- Christ — He fully took this place of the lowly, though He was never chastened with sickness.
As for me, I said, Jehovah, be gracious unto me heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee.
Here the psalm's speaker turns to God with two requests: mercy, and healing. Then he gives a reason no one expects — his own sin. Who is speaking? And how can a plea for healing stand beside a confession of sin?
Read simply, this is the prayer of a king whose enemies had something to point at. One writer links the confession to the hostility around him.
David was a man surrounded by enemies who spoke evil against him and wished him nothing but evil, wanting his name to perish (verse 5). He had given them some cause for this, as his confession to the Lord at the end of verse 4 shows.
Older translations read "heal my soul" where the ESV has "heal me." One writer points to those words to show that Scripture speaks of healing for the soul, not only for the body.
There is one atonement and one only, not one atonement in two parts. The wounding, the bruising, the chastisement, the healing by stripes were all accomplished in the one act of atonement at the cross. Scripture will prove that there is such a thing as healing of the soul as well as of the body.
Confession here does not cancel the claim to uprightness made later in the psalm. One writer takes that pairing as the mark of a faithful group under God's chastening hand.
In Psalm 41 the reader will notice what we have seen marks out the faithful remnant — the acknowledgment of sin (v. 4) and the declaration of integrity (v. 12). We find Christ using it of Himself. The psalm is not about Him, yet He shows how He took the place that the spirit of the whole psalm fits… the meek man himself looks to the Lord when His hand is upon him.
Another writer hears more than one voice here. He reads the psalm as the language of a whole company, and traces their trouble to pressure from outside rather than to illness.
The language of Psalm 41 is the language of people like these. It presents a company speaking of their sins (v. 4)… The word here rendered sickness appears in Isaiah 53 as griefs. Sickness is something internal. Grief comes from outside. The Hebrew idea is of being rubbed or worn down by hard use, as a jewel or gold is polished… Affliction and tribulation come from outside, and produce this effect on the soul.
Jesus applied verse 9 of this psalm to Judas. That pulls the whole psalm toward Him, and at once raises a problem at verse 4. Commentators differ: some keep verse 4 with David, while others face the difficulty and answer it from the Hebrew.
At first sight, the Lord's own use of the ninth verse about Judas (John 13:18) seems to force us to apply the Speaker to Christ Himself. But the fourth verse seems just as plainly to forbid this. How could He say, as the psalmist does, "Heal my soul, for I have sinned against You"? Yet the subject of the psalm, as even the first verse shows, implies a mystery.
The same writer finds a key in the Hebrew word itself. Judah uses it in Genesis, where it plainly means taking the blame.
Bishop Horsley has rightly reminded us that Judah uses this very same word in the book of Genesis. There we must certainly translate it, as the common version does, "bear the blame" or "sin" (Gen. 44:32).
If the words are His, they speak of a load carried, not a stain of His own. Another writer draws that line.
He pleads in verse 4, "Lord, be merciful to Me; heal My soul, for I have sinned against You." We may also translate this, "I have borne sin toward You." In any case He Himself had not sinned. Rather, He confessed the sins of others as though they had been His own. He has taken responsibility for them in His sacrifice on the cross, and unbelievers even regarded Him as a criminal.
So the words can be read two ways. The reading a person chooses divides unbelief from faith.
Grant that this suffering implies sin, and that the Sufferer owns it. Yet is the sin "in" the One who suffers, or only "on" Him? Think of the darkness at the cross, and the terrible cry that God had forsaken Him — it seemed to prove the accusations of His enemies right!… That is how unbelief reads this "heal my soul," while faith, in worship, sees the atoning sacrifice!
- Weakness. The verse is a prayer from weakness. The sin David confesses here gave his enemies real cause for their talk.
- Soul. He asks for healing of the soul, not the body. Scripture knows healing for both, and the atonement at the cross is one act, not two.
- Sin owned. Confession of sin and a claim to integrity stand side by side here. The one under God's hand looks straight to the Lord instead of away from Him.
- Sin borne. The same Hebrew word can mean "bear the blame," as Judah uses it in Genesis. So the words can belong to One who had no sin of His own, yet carried the sin of others.
- Test. The Lord applied verse 9 to Judas. At verse 4 unbelief reads guilt into the Sufferer, while faith sees the atoning sacrifice.
Mine enemies wish me evil When will he die, and his name perish?
Psalm 41 blesses the man who cares for the weak, then turns to a sufferer on his sick-bed. He hears enemies who wish him dead and his name forgotten — and the psalm asks whether such a wish can succeed.
The man is already under God's hand in sickness, and that is the moment his enemies choose. One writer traces how their hatred works out in the verses that follow:
His enemies, taking occasion by this chastisement, express their hatred of the godly, desiring his death. Yet they act with complete hypocrisy. They visit the godly to look for evil against them, imagined or real, and then spread it abroad. They plot secretly against the godly man, devise mischief, and slander him. With malice they look forward to a speedy end for him.
One writer counts this kind of slander among the trials God's people meet, and points to the psalm's answer:
Are they called to endure persecution (2), or sickness at the hand of God (3, 4)? Are they tried by the tongue of slander (5), or betrayed by a close friend (9)? Whatever the trial may be, the Lord will deliver the one who considers the poor (1)... so that he will be upheld in his integrity, and set by the Lord before His face for ever.
The psalm records David's own experience. Yet some lines reach past anything true of him, and one writer names verse 5 among them.
In Psalm 41 we find the experience of David. Yet here and there, as we can now see, the Spirit of God shaped the language so that it applies to Christ. This is the case of verses 5, 9, 12. It is particularly clear and definite in verse 9. David was doubtless thinking of Ahithophel, but the Spirit, who inspired him, was thinking of Judas Iscariot. The Lord applied these words to him in John 13:18.
The same writer sets the two sufferers side by side.
David was surrounded by enemies. They spoke evil against him and wished him nothing but evil, desiring that his name should perish (verse 5). He had given them some cause for this, as his confession to the Lord at the end of verse 4 shows. Yet all his adversaries were as nothing to those who united against Jesus and hated Him "without a cause" (Ps. 69:4).
To wish a name blotted out, you must first fail to see whose name it is.
We turn to look back at the terrible hatred of his maddened adversaries... They are strangers to His glorious Name, or they could not ask such a question. As the apostle says, "None of the rulers of this age understood this, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory" (1 Cor. 2:8). Of course: they would not have dared. Yet they had seen in Christ the image of God, and seen it only to hate it. He who hates goodness must hate the God of all goodness, and yet may not know that it is God he hates.
Their wish did not stay a wish.
His enemies spoke of Him, "When will He die, and His name perish?" But they went further than this. They deliberately murdered Him, thinking that in this way His name would perish (v. 5). Did that happen? Far from it! In resurrection His name has been highly exalted.
Another writer names what would have been lost if the wish had worked:
These rulers had crucified Him. If they had got their way, mankind would have lost for ever the power that was in His name. They were His enemies who said, "When will He die, and His name perish?" But God raised Him from the dead. That showed plainly what He thought of their great sin, what He thought of Christ, and His way of blessing for men.
The name they wanted erased is the one name that will outlast every other.
Every other name will perish. The name of the mightiest man who ever appeared in this world will pass away, but the name of Jesus will endure for ever... What does God say? "I will cause your name to be remembered in all generations; therefore nations will praise you forever and ever" (Ps. 45:17).
- Occasion. Weakness invited the attack — the enemies used his sickness as their opening to wish him dead.
- Voice. David spoke it out of his own trouble; the Spirit shaped verses 5, 9 and 12 so they would fit Christ.
- Cause. David had given his enemies some ground. Christ was hated without a cause.
- Blindness. Only those blind to His glory could ask such a question. Had they known Him, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.
- Outcome. They killed Him, but the name did not perish. God exalted it in resurrection, and every generation remembers it still.
And if one come to see [me], he speaketh falsehood; his heart gathereth wickedness to itself he goeth abroad, he telleth [it].
The scene is a sickroom, and a visitor arrives with the expected kind words. But the whole visit is a search for something to use against the sick man.
The caller in this verse is not a friend who happens to gossip afterwards. The errand itself is hostile from the start, and the sympathy is the disguise.
His enemies take their chance while he is under this discipline. They show their hatred of the godly man and want him dead. Yet they act with total hypocrisy. They visit him to look for evil in him, imagined or real, and then spread it abroad. They plot against him in secret, plan mischief, speak against him, and spitefully expect a quick end for him.
Older translations render the first line of the verse "he speaks falsehood." The next line, "his heart gathers iniquity," sounds like collecting. But this visitor finds evil because he brought it in with him. The gathering and the making are one act.
Here the hypocrisy that goes with this real hatred is plain. So he finds just what he is looking for. His heart is a magnet. By a terrible principle of natural selection it draws wickedness to itself — wickedness that it forged first. Then he goes out and announces what he has collected; but in fact he only shows himself for what he is.
The last line of the verse takes the damage out of the sickroom and into the street. One writer weighs the same habit elsewhere in Scripture, in an older translation. What makes such talk harmful is not whether the report is true; it is the wound it leaves.
Just as evil as the foolish talker is the tale-bearer, whom we hear of next. "The words of a tale-bearer are as wounds, and they go down to the chambers of the belly." Even if such words were strictly true — and they rarely are — they do damage in every way. They fall under the condemnation of evil speaking. They lack any moral purpose or loving manner.
The visit makes no sense until you ask what the visitor hates. The sick man has done him no harm. The offence is what he is.
Even so, they had seen in Christ the image of God, and seen it only to hate it. Whoever hates goodness must hate the God of all goodness, and yet may not know that it is God he hates... "the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil" (John 3:19).
The psalm records David's own experience. But its wording reaches further than David, as one writer explains:
In Psalm 41 we find the experience of David. Yet here and there, as we can now see, the Spirit of God framed the language so that it applies to Christ. This is the case in verses 5, 9, 12. It is especially clear and definite in verse 9. David was no doubt thinking of Ahithophel. But the Spirit, who inspired him, was thinking of Judas Iscariot, for the Lord applied it to him in John 13:18.
Read that way, the flattering visitor has a face in the Gospels. Men came to Jesus with questions, hoping for something to report.
When He was on earth, men conspired against Him. The Pharisees tried to trap Him in His words, and afterwards they would falsely report what He said. So their hearts continually gathered iniquity.
- Visit. The caller comes to a sickbed as a sympathiser. But the visit is an inspection, and he wants something he can use.
- Words. What he says is empty; the mouth is doing one job while the errand does another.
- Heart. He gathers what he first forged — his heart draws wickedness to itself, so he is certain to find what he came for.
- Street. The gathering has a destination. He goes outside and spreads it, and so exposes himself more than his victim.
- Root. Under it all lies hatred of goodness itself. Whoever hates goodness hates the God of all goodness, even without knowing it — the same hatred that met Christ.
All that hate me whisper together against me; against me do they devise my hurt.
In Psalm 41 a sick and suffering man is visited by people who hate him. By verse 7 they have drawn together to whisper. Commentators ask whose voice this is — David's, a suffering believer in Israel's, or Christ's — and what the whispering achieved in the end.
Commentators place this psalm on the lips of a suffering believer in Israel. Christ later took its words as His own.
Psalm 41 shows the blessedness of the man who understands this position of the poor of the flock and enters into it (compare Matt. 5:3; Luke 6:20). It is spoken in the person of one of the suffering remnant — no doubt drawing on the psalmist's own experience. It is one of the psalms where Christ takes up an expression of theirs. It shows how, at the close of His life, He entered into their sorrows and tasted their bitterness to the full.
Not every line fits Christ in the same way. Some see David's own history behind the psalm. The Spirit shaped the words to reach further than David could:
In Psalm 41 we find the experience of David. Yet here and there, as we can now see, the Spirit of God framed the language so that it fits Christ as well. This is true of verses 5, 9 and 12. It is clearest of all in verse 9. David was surely thinking of Ahithophel, but the Spirit who inspired him was thinking of Judas Iscariot, for the Lord applied the words to him in John 13:18.
The whisper is not a passing insult. It was a settled plan, kept up while the Lord did works of kindness in front of them.
"All who hate me whisper together about me" (v. 7). This was the character of the religious leaders of Israel when the Lord was working many miracles of grace. They kept plotting to put Him to death, though they could not do it until God's time.
Verse 7 does not stand alone. Earlier visits feed the whispering. Callers come to the sick man's bedside to collect material.
His enemies use this chastisement as their opportunity. They show their hatred of the godly man and want him dead. Yet they act with complete hypocrisy. They visit him to hunt for evil in him, imagined or real, and then spread it around. They plot in secret against him, plan harm, slander him, and spitefully look forward to a quick end for him.
The visitor's heart does the manufacturing before it does the reporting.
So he finds exactly what he is looking for. His heart is a magnet. By a terrible kind of natural selection it draws wickedness to itself — wickedness that it has manufactured first. Then he goes out and announces what he has found. In truth he only shows what he himself is.
The whispering ends in a strange confidence. The plotters read the sufferer's condition as God's verdict against him.
Then come plots and treacherous whispers. They persuade themselves that God is against the One they want to make their victim. "Some evil thing," they say, "has fastened on him; now that he lies down, he will never rise again." How easily the cry at the cross would carry that same charge of guilt! God Himself, by their own admission, against the holy Sufferer.
Open contempt is one thing. This psalm marks out something worse.
The proud and wicked could look down on the meek and lowly remnant, who may also be under chastening, and trample on them. Here it is more the false and treacherous spirit of people he ought to have been able to trust.
The whispering did not have the last word. The psalm ends with the sufferer's name safe.
When we reach the end of Psalm 41, we are sure that His Name will not perish. In verses 11 and 12 we find words that fit Him beautifully. He could say to God, "You favour Me," or, "You delight in Me." So the enemy could not triumph over Him. God not only delighted in Him; He upheld Him in His integrity, and has set Him before His face for ever.
- Whisper. The verse shows a habit, not an outburst. Hatred sits down together and keeps talking against a sufferer.
- Gather. Hypocritical visits feed the whispering. The heart makes the evidence first, then goes out and spreads it.
- Persuade. Plotters talk themselves into believing God is on their side. The same charge was thrown at Christ at the cross.
- Betray. Commentators differ over how much of the psalm is Christ's own voice. They agree the sharpest wound comes from a trusted friend. David was thinking of Ahithophel; the Spirit was thinking of Judas.
- Uphold. The whisperers wanted his name to perish. The psalm ends with the sufferer upheld in integrity and set before God's face for ever.
A thing of Belial cleaveth fast unto him; and now that he is laid down, he will rise up no more.
In verse 7 the sufferer's enemies whisper. Here they say it out loud: something deadly has him, and he is finished. Whose voice is this — David's enemies, or the crowd around a cross — and was their verdict ever true?
Psalm 41 records David's own experience. Yet writers point out that in places its wording reaches past David to Christ.
Psalm 41 is also closely connected with Psalm 40. Both are psalms of David. But Psalm 40 holds far more that goes beyond anything David could say of himself — words that are clearly prophetic of Christ, things that could only be said of Him. Psalm 41, on the other hand, gives us the experience of David. Yet here and there, as we can now see, the Spirit of God shaped the language so that it fits Christ too. That is the case in verses 5, 9 and 12.
Commentators differ on how far to press it. One writer holds that the psalm as such is not about Christ, yet Christ used it of Himself and took the place it describes.
We have Christ using it of Himself. Though the psalm is not about Him, He shows how He took the place that the spirit of the whole psalm fits. The proud and wicked could despise and trample on the meek and lowly remnant — the faithful few, perhaps under God's chastening. Here it is more the false and treacherous spirit of those he should have been able to trust.
The verse quotes the enemies' own words. They are not just gossiping. They are persuading themselves that God has already ruled against the man they mean to destroy. Where the ESV speaks of a deadly thing poured out on him, older translations read "a thing of Belial" — Belial meaning worthlessness.
Then come plots and treacherous whisperings, and they persuade themselves that God is against the One they would make their victim. "A thing of Belial," they say, "cleaves fast to him; and now that he lies down, he shall rise up no more." How easily they would take the cry from the cross as pointing to such guilt! In their eyes God Himself was plainly against the holy Sufferer, and this was surely only the last of many such signs.
The charge fed on what they could see. His poverty and tears looked to them like proof that God was displeased, and that let them reject Him with a clear conscience.
He was afflicted among them because they were afflicted. Power went out of Him to heal them, and the loads He lifted from them weighed His spirit down. He felt these things in His spirit. Disease could not seize or defile His sinless, holy body, even though His enemies said, "An evil disease cleaves fast to Him" (Psalm 41:8). But they thought that God was against Him when they saw His sorrow: that He was stricken and smitten of God. Why was He so poor if He was in God's favour? Why should He sigh and weep? If God were pleased with Him would He not be popular with Pharisees and priests? So they reasoned, and that reasoning quieted their consciences while they rejected Him.
The second half of the verse is where history tested them. They did not just say it; they acted to make sure of it.
They imagined that Christ had "an evil disease" (v. 8), for He had acknowledged that He was the Son of God, and they thought this a horrible evil. How blinded they were! When He lay down in death, they were confident — wrongly — that He would "rise up no more." They were so set on keeping Him there that they sealed the grave. They even posted a watch of four soldiers at a time to make sure He did not come out!
The psalm does not leave the accusation standing. God at last steps in for the One they hated.
But when man's innermost heart is revealed like this, God at last shows Himself on behalf of the One whom man hates... He is answered in resurrection, raised up to repay friends and foes alike. The hatred of His enemies cannot prevail against Him in whom Jehovah delights. God owns His perfection, sustains Him in it, and sets Him before His face forever.
- Verdict. The verse is the enemies' own speech. Their whispered plot becomes a public sentence on a man they had already written off.
- Belial. Older renderings read "a thing of Belial cleaves fast to him". The charge is not just illness but worthlessness — and they claimed God stood with them.
- Misread. They took His sorrow, poverty and tears as proof that God had struck Him. That reasoning quieted their consciences while they rejected Him.
- Sealed. "He shall rise up no more" was not a guess but a plan. They sealed the grave and posted a rotating guard to enforce it.
- Answered. God raised the One they buried, owned His perfection, and set Him before His face forever. Resurrection reversed their verdict.
Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I confided, who did eat of my bread, hath lifted up [his] heel against me.
This psalm shows a man surrounded by enemies, and the sharpest wound comes from the friend who sat at his table. Jesus applied this verse to Judas, and that raises a question: how much of this psalm is David's own grief and how much is prophecy.
The words point to two men at once. One turned against David. The other sold his Master.
In Psalm 41 we find the experience of David. Yet here and there, as we can now see, the Spirit of God shaped the language so that it applies to Christ as well. This is the case in verses 5, 9, 12. It is particularly clear and definite in verse 9. David was no doubt thinking of Ahithophel. But the Spirit, who inspired him, was thinking of Judas Iscariot, for the Lord applied this verse to him in John 13:18.
Verse 4 of this psalm confesses sin. That sets a limit on how far the psalm can speak for Christ.
No one can dispute that this psalm includes Christ, betrayed by Judas. He indeed was the One who, being rich, made Himself poor for His own. But if verse 9 truly applies to Him, verse 4 proves that the godly Jew is in view, and not the Lord throughout. There is confession of sin here, but the heart goes fully out to Jehovah.
The mention of eating bread is not a small detail. Sharing food carried its own meaning.
To eat the same bread or food together is a sign of friendship. Joshua 9:14; Ps. 41:9; Song of Songs 5:1; John 13:18. And this sign of closeness is forbidden toward those who live in a disorderly way. 1 Cor. 5:11.
To lift the heel is to kick. One writer sets Judas beside the older ingratitude of Israel, called Jeshurun here.
"Jeshurun grew fat and kicked" of old; "he forsook God who made him and scoffed at the Rock of his salvation" (Deut. 32:15). Judas went far further than that. He was guilty and indifferent toward the Son of God, who had come down in love and lowliness. He was eager to serve himself at any cost, and he betrayed his gracious Master for something worthless. Never was there such love, and never such contempt and abuse of it. And this came from one of those who were especially responsible to be faithful.
The Lord did more than point to the prophecy. He handed the traitor bread dipped in the dish — the very act the psalm describes.
The piece of bread dipped in the dish was the sign of friendship. He takes it, and goes out. This was love's last witness, and it found no answer — "after he had taken the morsel, Satan entered into him" (John 13:27).
Judas was as close to Jesus as anyone could be. That closeness did not save him.
It was a test of man in new circumstances. He was a "close friend" (Ps. 41:9) of the Lord Jesus. He heard His gracious words and saw His miracles, and was probably even allowed to work miracles himself in His name. Yet he fell, as man has fallen in every other test. Judas is a solemn example of how far a person can come under the influence and power of Christianity, and still abandon the faith altogether.
For anyone who has been let down by someone they trusted, the verse is more than history.
Do I feel the treachery of a friend? Could our Lord's sorrow be more vividly described than in Psalm 41:9? … Tempted He was, tried in all points as we are, "sin apart"! How fitted He is to be our sympathising High Priest! In His Godhead He knows all things, so He understands our feelings. But He also understands as One who was a true Man down here in lowly grace, in all the ordinary circumstances of life.
- Foretold — David wrote from his own pain. The Spirit meant Judas, and the Lord Himself said so.
- Fulfilled — the shared bread was the sign of friendship; which is why the betrayal cut so deep.
- Felt — the verse shows a real Man wounded by a real friend, which is why He can sympathise with you when it happens to you.
- Refused — grace kept offering to the very end. The dipped bread was love's last appeal, and Judas took it and went out.
- Warned — being near Christ is not the same as belonging to Him. Judas heard the words, saw the miracles, and still fell.
But thou, Jehovah, be gracious unto me, and raise me up, that I may requite them.
Psalm 41 has just described whispering enemies and a trusted friend who turned traitor. Now the sufferer stops describing men and speaks to God. He asks for mercy, and to be raised up. The closing words about repayment raise the sharpest question: whose voice is this, and may a Christian pray this way today?
Commentators read the psalm on two levels at once. William Kelly holds that Christ is in it, yet not alone in it, because the psalm also confesses sin:
That this psalm includes Christ as betrayed by Judas is beyond dispute. He indeed was the One who, being rich, made Himself poor for His own. But if verse 9 is truly applied to Him, verse 4 proves that the godly Jew is really in view, and not the Lord throughout. Sin is confessed, but the heart goes thoroughly out to Jehovah. Such will be the righteous at the close of the age.
J. N. Darby reads it the same way. The words belong to a suffering people, and Christ took up their language.
One of the suffering remnant speaks here — doubtless out of the psalmist's own experience. It is one of the psalms in which Christ takes up an expression. It shows how, at the close of His life, when He entered into their sorrows, He tasted their bitterness to the full. Still the poor man is upheld in his integrity, and set before Jehovah's face. The apparent triumph of the wicked is short.
Arno Gaebelein reads verse 10 as the answer to the sufferer's prayer:
Verse 9 refers to Judas who betrayed Him. See John 13:18. When our Lord quotes from this Psalm, He leaves out the words "whom I trusted." He leaves them out because the One who knows all things knew Judas, and did not trust him. And He — the Poor and Needy One, the Miserable One, the Forsaken One — had His prayer answered. He is the Risen One (verse 10), in God's own presence, before His face (verse 12).
The repayment comes only after God raises him. F. W. Grant ties the two halves of the verse together:
But if this is what man is in his innermost heart, God at last shows Himself on behalf of the One that man hates… He is answered in resurrection, raised up for the recompense of friends and foes alike. The enmity of His adversaries cannot prevail against Him in whom Jehovah delights. His perfection is owned, and in it He is sustained, and set before the face of God forever.
A. Pridham sees this verse and those after it looking beyond one man's rescue to a settled outcome for a whole people:
Verses 10-13 seem to look forward to this final avenging and glorifying of the people of Jehovah's promise. They also point first to the punishments of divine judgment. Under those punishments the broken and scattered despisers of Jesus still remain. These subjects are very different, yet morally related, and the Psalms often mix them together.
Darby says that prayers like this one are not the language of Christian hope, and he explains why:
That is why we find in the Psalms these appeals to judgment, and demands for it. They have often puzzled Christians when unbelievers press the point. They are not the expression of Christian feelings. We leave the world and go to heaven. In no sense do we have to demand the destruction of our enemies to pass into glory. But Israel cannot have their rest on earth until the wicked are destroyed. So they do ask for this righteous judgment, and that is how they will be delivered.
That does not make the prayer wrong. Darby also says it is righteous in its place, and not personal revenge:
The Christian should understand this. The Spirit of Christ in His own walk in the world was quite different from the desire of judgment expressed in the psalms, and the Christian's walk should be different too. Yet that desire is righteous and right in its place. That desire of judgment is not self-vengeance. It is an appeal to a delivering and righteous God, made after the heart's perfect patience under unrighteous oppression, bowing to the will of God and learning the lesson He had to teach.
- Betrayed — the sufferer stops answering men and turns to God.
- Mercy — he asks for grace first, and he has already confessed sin (v. 4). Because of that confession, commentators differ over how much of the psalm is Christ's own voice.
- Raised — the prayer "raise me up" was answered in resurrection: He is the Risen One, before God's face.
- Repay — the repayment follows the raising. God acts for the One He delights in; this is not the sufferer's revenge.
- Ours today — the prayer is right in its place, an appeal to a righteous God after patience. But Christian hope is different: we leave the world for heaven, and never demand our enemies' destruction.
By this I know that thou delightest in me, because mine enemy doth not triumph over me.
Psalm 41 closes with a sufferer surrounded by whispering enemies. Then comes a note of certainty: he knows he is loved, and the proof is that his enemy never gets to celebrate. Two questions follow. How can a man in that position be so sure, and whose voice is this?
The psalmist does not point to his own comfort or health. He points to one fact: the enemy gets no shout of victory. One writer ties that certainty to a word spoken from heaven long before the trouble started.
It was impossible for the enemy to triumph over Him. God had already announced, "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased" (Matt. 3:17). So that His triumph over the enemy was the proof that He is God's beloved Son. All through His path on earth God upheld Him in His integrity. In resurrection God has set Him before His face forever (v. 12).
Earlier in the psalm the enemies whisper together and expect the sufferer never to get up again. One writer sees Israel's religious leaders in that picture.
"All who hate me whisper together against me" (v. 7). This was what the religious leaders of Israel were like while the Lord was doing many miracles of grace. They kept plotting to put Him to death, though they could not do it until God's time. They imagined that Christ had "an evil disease" (v. 8). He had acknowledged that He was the Son of God, and they thought this a horrible evil. How blinded they were! When He laid down in death, they were confident — wrongly — that He would "rise up no more." They were so determined that He would not rise that they sealed the grave. They even set a watch of four soldiers at a time to make sure He did not come out!
His enemies read the suffering as proof that God had struck him down. Faith looks at the same scene and sees the opposite.
Think of the darkness on the Cross, and the awful cry that God had forsaken Him. The accusations of His enemies seemed to be proved right! How natural it is for a heart that does not know its own need to say, "A thing of Belial clings to him" — words that the older English version translates, "an evil disease." That is how unbelief reads the prayer "heal my soul." But faith, in worship, sees the atoning sacrifice!
The verse has been translated two ways: "You favour me" and "You delight in me." One writer uses both readings and follows what that favour led to.
Verses 11 and 12 fit Him perfectly. He could say to God, "You favour Me," or, "You delight in Me," so the enemy could not triumph over Him. God not only delighted in Him; He upheld Him in His integrity, and has set Him before His face for ever. In these words we see an inspired forecast of those lovely words in John 13 — "Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him. If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself, and glorify him at once." God upheld Him even in death, and has now lifted Him to the Father's throne. God has set Him before His face in glory, long before the glory of the kingdom appears.
Commentators differ on how much of this psalm belongs to Christ alone. Some read the speaker throughout as the Lord Himself. Others read the psalm as the experience of a godly sufferer, which Christ entered completely. On that reading the same words fit any believer under pressure: he asks God for mercy, God upholds him in his path, and God sets him before His face for ever (Hamilton Smith).
If verse 11 speaks first of Christ, where does that leave everyone else?
Ps. 41 has a first and primary reference to the Lord Jesus Himself. HE is before the face of God — justified, accepted, in eternal favour and love. Divine grace has associated me with Him, so that what God has made true of that blessed Man is true of me also. I am "in Him," accepted in His acceptance, blessed as He is blessed, and loved as He is loved.
- Favour is the cause. God announced His delight over His Son before any enemy gathered. The outcome was never in doubt.
- Favour is proved, not felt. The proof is not how he feels. It is that his enemy never gets to shout.
- Favour is misread by unbelief. The same cross where enemies saw a man struck down by God is where faith sees the atoning sacrifice.
- Favour holds through death. He was upheld in integrity even in dying, and is now set before God's face in glory.
- Favour reaches us. What God made true of that Man is true of everyone joined to Him — accepted in His acceptance, loved as He is loved.
But as for me, thou upholdest me in mine integrity, and settest me before thy face for ever.
Psalm 41 has already spoken of sickness, slander, and betrayal by a close friend. Yet it ends with a settled place before God, given by God Himself — and since this same psalm has already confessed sin, how can it also speak of integrity?
This is the last verse before the burst of praise that closes this book of Psalms. One writer reads it as the answer to every trial named earlier in the psalm.
Are they called to endure persecution (2), sickness from God's hand (3, 4), the trial of slander (5), or betrayal by a close friend (9)? Whatever the trial may be, Jehovah will deliver the one who considers the poor (1) out of all of them... so that one will be upheld in his integrity, and Jehovah will set him before His face for ever. It is fitting, then, that a song of praise follows and closes this book. What more can the saints on earth enjoy than being before Jehovah's face for ever?
The same psalm that says "I have sinned against you" ends by speaking of integrity. Commentators point out that the two run together all through the Psalms.
Two great principles mark their condition through all their sorrows. The first is integrity. The second is trust in Jehovah. The Spirit of Christ leads them in both, and He is perfect in both... This very integrity, and the work of the Spirit of Christ in them, must lead them to confess their sin and long failure... It is remarkable to see how the declaration of integrity and the confession of sins go together; so with Job, so even with Peter.
So the integrity is not self-made. The Spirit of Christ works it, and God is the one who holds the man standing.
One writer hears these closing words first of all as belonging to the Lord Jesus.
In verses 11 and 12 we find words that fit Him perfectly... Not only did God delight in Him; He upheld Him in His integrity, and has set Him before His face for ever... God upheld Him even in death, and has now lifted Him to the Father's throne and set Him before His face in glory, long before the glory of the kingdom is displayed.
Older translations end this verse "before Your face"; the ESV has "in your presence." One writer weighs that word "face" against another word the psalm could have used.
Notice the words "before Your face." Not "before Your throne." A throne suggests distance. A face suggests knowledge and closeness. Character shows in the face. Through eternity God will be making His perfections known to His redeemed, and we will always be learning what a God He is with whom we have to do.
A sinner has no natural claim to stand in front of God. So this confidence must rest on something outside the man himself.
The atoning sacrifice of the cross has replaced for ever all the offerings of the old priestly system. It enables God to pardon and justify, righteously, every sinner who believes in Jesus. The Psalmist was clearly enjoying the sweetness of justification when he wrote our text. "You uphold me in my integrity." Imagine mortal man addressing his Maker like this! It is the Old Testament way of expressing the truth of Romans 8:33: "Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies."
(The writer quotes an older translation: "you uphold me in my integrity." The ESV has "you have upheld me because of my integrity.")
The last words of the verse are "for ever." One writer sets that against what the first man had and lost.
The first man began with the knowledge of God, and before sin entered he enjoyed Him according to his measure and circumstances. All this he lost by his transgression. But grace sets the believer in Jesus on an entirely new footing. Everything now depends on the triumphant Second Man, and on what He has accomplished. So everything is secure. It cannot be lost or thrown away. "For ever" is my place and portion in the favour and love of God.
- Upheld — the integrity here is not self-made. God is the one who holds the man standing. That is how one psalm can both confess sin and claim integrity.
- Christ first — one writer hears these words as the Lord Jesus speaking. God upheld Him even in death, and has set Him before His face in glory.
- Face, not throne — a throne suggests distance. A face means knowing and being known. God will spend eternity making His perfections known there.
- On what ground — no sinner has a claim to that place. The atoning sacrifice buys the welcome. This is the Old Testament voice of "It is God who justifies."
- For ever — the first man lost what he had. Grace sets the believer on new ground, in God's favour and love, and it cannot be lost.
Blessed be Jehovah, the God of Israel, from eternity to eternity! Amen, and Amen.
Psalm 41 closes the first book of Psalms, and it closes with praise, not with the betrayal described a few verses earlier. So why does praise belong at the end of such a psalm, and what does the doubled "Amen" add?
The Psalms fall into five books. Four of these books end with a doxology — a short burst of praise — and this verse is the first of them.
Looking at the whole collection, we learn that it is divided into five books — 1–41; 42–72; 73–89; 90–106; 107–150. Each of the first four has a doxology at its close, connected with the significant word "Amen" (Ps. 41:13; Ps. 72:18-19; Ps. 89:52)… Then the whole collection ends with a call on everything that has breath to praise the LORD.
Usually "Amen" is one person agreeing with what somebody else has said. Here the writer says it over his own words.
At the end of each of the first four books of the Psalms "Amen" is added (Ps. 41:13; Ps. 72:19; Ps. 89:52; Ps. 106:48). In these cases it is not someone else agreeing with what is said; the writer adds "Amen" at the end himself, meaning "may it be so," and three times it is repeated.
The praise is not tied to one moment of rescue. It reaches back before anything was made and forward without end. And the word that seals it is one Christ later took up as His own.
The formal close in the last verse is, I believe, the voice of all mankind at last, giving praise to the God of Israel, the Eternal. That praise reaches from the eternity before time began and on into eternity. So it takes in all time from first to last: the whole period of the creature and his failure, and of the dishonour done by him to the glorious Creator. It is sealed with the Old Testament "verily, verily," which the Christ of the New has taken up and made His own.
Earlier in the psalm, enemies whisper and a close friend turns traitor. Praise still ends the psalm, because the story does not stop there. (Writers here use "Jehovah" where the ESV has "the LORD.")
But if man is revealed like this in his innermost heart, God at last shows Himself on behalf of the One whom man hates… He is answered in resurrection, raised up to repay friends and foes alike. The enmity of His adversaries cannot prevail against Him in whom Jehovah delights. God acknowledges His perfection, sustains Him in it, and sets Him before His face forever. There is only One of whom all this could be said… So it is a most fitting close to this precious first book of God's counsels about Christ.
The psalm lists one trouble after another. Praise fits at the end because God delivers out of every one.
Are they called to endure persecution (v. 2)? Or sickness at the hand of God (vv. 3, 4)? Or slander (v. 5)? Or betrayal by a close friend (v. 9)? Whatever the trial may be, Jehovah will deliver out of all of it the one who considers the poor (v. 1)… That person will be upheld in his integrity, and Jehovah will set him before His face for ever. It is fitting, then, that a doxology follows, and this book closes with it… What more can the saints on earth enjoy than being before Jehovah's face for ever?
Commentators differ over how much of Psalm 41 is Christ's own voice and how much belongs to the godly Jew. All agree that verse 9, about the friend who betrayed Him, points to Judas. The confession of sin in verse 4 is where readings part.
That this psalm includes Christ as betrayed by Judas is beyond dispute. He indeed was the One who, being rich, made Himself poor for His own. But if verse 9 is truly applied to Him, verse 4 proves that the godly Jew is really in view, and not the Lord throughout.
- Blessed after betrayal. This book has run through persecution, slander and betrayal. It still ends with God blessed.
- Blessed in resurrection. The turn comes when God answers the rejected One in resurrection and sets Him before His face forever.
- Blessed by the delivered. God delivers His own out of persecution, sickness, slander and betrayal. He sets them before His face, and they join the same praise.
- Blessed without limit. The praise reaches from the eternity before time began on into eternity. It covers all time, including man's failure.
- Blessed, and sealed. "Amen, and Amen" is the writer's own "may it be so" — the Old Testament "verily, verily" that Christ later made His own.