He maketh the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man; bringing forth bread out of the earth,
Psalm 104 walks through creation, and verse 14 is where the song reaches the dinner table. Behind that ordinary sight the psalm puts a Person. Two questions follow: who feeds the world, and what does that make of us?
The verse sits in a run of psalms that praise God from different angles:
In Psalm 103 he blesses Jehovah as the Forgiver and Healer of His people; in Psalm 104 as the glorious Creator; in Psalm 105 as faithful to His covenant with the fathers, and to His promises.
It also follows the order of the creation account. Grass and plants for man belong to the same day:
God also made the grass grow for cattle, and plants for man's use, on the same day, along with the trees that bear fruit (vv. 14-17). Then came the moon to mark the seasons, and the sun, making darkness and light, on the fourth day.
The verse feeds the animals before it feeds man:
He also causes grass to grow for the farm animals, because He does not despise any of His creatures but shows them constant kindness. He provides other plants for man's use as well, and so brings food out of the earth (v. 14).
That care reaches creatures no farmer feeds:
In Psalm 104 the Psalmist praised Him who sends the springs into the valleys, so that they run among the mountains. They are not for man only, nor for every beast of the field, even the wildest of them, but for the birds as well, who sing out among the branches.
God gives man a place of honour here: the plants grow for his use. Yet one writer points to the twist in it. The creature set highest is the one least able to survive alone.
So the grass grows for cattle and plants for man's use. God is set on sustaining this creature. He has placed man on the earth with dignity, as His image and likeness, to know Him and to be for Him. And so He made him the most dependent of all, precisely because he is master of all. Where is there a creature born to such weakness and such long helplessness as a human baby? Where is there one so defenceless by nature as a man in his prime, with no tooth or claw, no strength or speed, and even his skin bare to the wind? What is meant to show itself in him is spirit, and it does show — but only as he owns his dependence and uses all God's gifts with care.
Food comes up out of the ground, and it still comes up in a world that has gone wrong:
The true God gives to all life and breath and everything else. Even in a ruined world this active goodness went out to all alike… How many are Your works, O Jehovah! In wisdom You have made them all. The earth is full of Your riches… What a commentary Psalm 104 is on God's sustaining goodness!
Because the harvest keeps coming, no one can say God has gone silent. Paul once made that point out loud, to a crowd in the town of Lystra:
When the Apostle Paul was preaching to the restless crowds at Lystra, he reminded them that in past times God had let the nations go their own ways. Even so, the rain given from heaven and the fruitful seasons, the food and gladness that filled their hearts, were a testimony to the Creator. He did not leave Himself without witness. God's witness to people through creation never stops.
If God is the one growing it, then eating is not a neutral act:
God knows our needs. He is a faithful Creator and He remembers how He has fashioned us. He has given us bodies, they need feeding, and He has provided food for that. Every mouthful we eat declares our dependence on God and should humble us before Him. We could not live without His provision for our daily needs. Knowing this would keep us from living independently of God, guard us from uncontrolled appetites, and keep us thankful to Him every day of our lives.
- He causes. The verb belongs to God. Psalm 104 blesses Him as the glorious Creator, as Psalm 103 blesses Him as Forgiver and Healer.
- He causes for cattle. The animals come first, because He does not despise any of His creatures. His springs run for the wildest beasts and for the birds.
- He causes for man. Plants grow for man's use. Yet God made the creature He set highest the most dependent of all — dignity and helplessness together on purpose.
- He causes still. Even in a ruined world this goodness goes out to all alike. Rain and fruitful seasons are His unceasing witness; He did not leave Himself without witness.
- So we answer. Every mouthful declares our dependence. That should humble us, guard us from uncontrolled appetites, and keep us thankful every day.
And wine which gladdeneth the heart of man; making [his] face shine with oil; and with bread he strengtheneth man's heart.
Psalm 104 sings of the Creator at work. Verse 15 stops on three things that come out of the ground — wine, oil and bread. Why does God give what gladdens and beautifies a man, and not only what keeps him alive?
The psalm does not describe a world God once made and then left.
The psalmist does not think of the Creator only in His past work as the Originator of all, but in His present work as the Sustainer of His creation. So he can say, "He sends the springs" — not simply that He sent them in the past; He does so now. Again he says, "He waters the hills," and "He causes the grass to grow." It is the present sustaining mercy of the Creator that fills the soul with praise.
The giving reaches everyone alike, and it goes on in a world spoiled by sin.
The true God gives to all life and breath and all things. Even in a ruined world this active kindness went out impartially. He makes the grass grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man… What a comment Psalm 104 is on God's sustaining goodness!
The word for "man" here means frail man. One writer notes how the psalm repeats it: the same weak creature gets both his gladness and his strength.
Truly he is "frail man" (enosh); but now, sadly, he is called to know a frailty that comes not from creation but from his sin. There is discipline for him in it, which he needs, and in it divine love still acts. That added need has brought out God's tenderness as never before: the wine that gladdens frail man's heart, the bread that strengthens frail man's heart. How the words, and the repetition of the words, breathe of God's thoughtful care in holding up one who may so easily give way to discouragement!
The same wine appears in the offerings poured out to God, and there it stands for joy. That corrects anyone who thinks God enjoys our misery.
A "drink offering" is poured on too. This was of wine, "wine to gladden the heart of man," wine "which cheers God and man." It is a symbol of joy, and it goes with all the offerings except the sin and trespass offerings… The monkish idea that devotion is a gloomy and painful exercise is not divine; it is devilish. Many excellent people have done much to encourage and keep that idea alive, though it is a gross slander on God and godliness.
Some have read the wine of this verse as unfermented grape juice. One writer answers that the same reasoning would turn the bread into corn.
The teetotal argument built on Psalm 104:13-15 is worthless, because oil and bread, no less than wine, are said to be brought out of the earth. If the context proves "wine" to mean grapes, it equally proves "bread" to mean corn; and if the second is unreasonable, so is the first.
Another writer traces the question back to the Creator.
Whatever God has created is good; it is man's sin that turns it into evil. Drunkenness is the abuse of a creature of God. The created thing itself is good, and its proper use is beneficial. But treating the thing as evil really reproaches God with having created an evil thing, and so far reduces or denies man's sin in the matter.
Commentators do not stop at the harvest. They read the three gifts as pictures of a lasting blessing.
These things perish in the using. For us they are only the types of what our spiritual blessing is in its eternally rich and endlessly ample character. The antitype of the corn is clearly the person of Christ Himself… Of the wine we find the antitype in His work of redemption; for in this sense alone can we understand the heart of God to be cheered by wine… And of the oil the antitype is the Holy Spirit poured out — the holy anointing oil.
The oil explains the shining face. The light is borrowed, not our own:
It is the anointing of the Holy Spirit alone that lights up the face with the reflection of that glorified One on high.
- Giver. God did not just start the world. He keeps it going — still sending the springs, watering the hills, growing the grass.
- Given to the frail. The word for man means frail man. Wine for his gladness and bread for his strength are gifts sized to a creature who soon loses heart.
- Gladness intended. Wine stands for joy in nearly every offering. One writer calls gloomy religion a slander on God.
- Good, not evil. What God made is good. Sin is the abuse of it. Calling the thing evil shifts the blame from man to the Creator.
- Greater fulfilment. Writers read the three gifts as pictures: Christ Himself, His work of redemption, and the Spirit poured out. His anointing makes the face shine.
The trees of Jehovah are satisfied, the cedars of Lebanon, which he hath planted,
Psalm 104 is a song about the Creator. After the grass, bread, wine and oil that keep people alive, the singer looks up at the great trees on the mountains of Lebanon. The verse raises two questions: whose trees are these, and what are they for?
One writer reads verses 10–18 as one sweep of God's provision. He stops on the tense of the psalm's verbs.
The psalmist does not think of the Creator only in His past work as the Originator of all, but in His present work as the Sustainer of His creation. So the psalmist can say, "He sends the springs;" not simply that He sent them in the past; He does so now. Again he says, "He waters the hills," and "He causes the grass to grow." It is the present sustaining mercy of the Creator that fills the soul with praise.
The ESV says the trees are "watered abundantly." Older translations read "full of sap." One writer renders the word "satisfied," and his translation also stresses whose trees these are:
Satisfied are Jehovah's trees, cedars of Lebanon which He planted, where small birds nestle: for the stork, firs are her house.
Why does the psalm name the cedar of Lebanon in particular?
A beautiful tall tree. Solomon used it widely in building the temple and his palaces. It is called 'cedar' from the firmness of its roots. Its wood is very durable and fragrant... You cannot count it as one of the trees of Palestine proper. Scripture always links it with Lebanon, where it still grows in a group of some three hundred, a few of them very old, with no other trees near. The people living nearby regard them with reverence.
The obvious use of a cedar is timber for a king's palace. The psalm points somewhere else — to the small creatures that live in the branches.
God planted the grand spreading cedars not for man's use only, and not for taste or pride. He planted them for the birds too, to make their nests — unless the taller firs suit some birds better still.
Another writer keeps the tree's own excellence and its use to others together, then widens the view to the whole landscape.
"The trees of Jehovah are full": strength, beauty, delicacy of workmanship, are in those "cedars of Lebanon which He has planted." And then they do not grow simply for themselves. They serve the birds, who flock rejoicing to nest in their cover. The gloomy fir gives hospitable shelter to the home-loving stork. The high hills, too, give a refuge to feet like the wild goat's, made ready for such ground. The very clefts of the rock give one to the timid and weak hyrax. So the earth is a house of many chambers.
Commentators also read the trees as figures of men and women. One writer sees in the cedar a picture of human greatness, and then follows the tree's use to the birds:
"The trees of the Lord are full," for they share in the fulness of God's provision, and they picture mankind in various ways (v. 16). The cedars are specified, the most prominent of trees, speaking of man's great honour and glory. But the trees are a provision of God for birds (v. 17). The stork is mentioned as living in the fir trees (evergreens), and the changing seasons do not affect them.
Another writer applies the same picture to God's own people. He also notes that Scripture uses the tree for Nebuchadnezzar, a king of Babylon.
"The trees of the Lord are full of sap," we read in the Psalms (Ps. 104:16), speaking of the saints. But we find the tree also used in connection with Nebuchadnezzar. It seems to refer to persons, does it not?
- Planted. The cedars are His because He planted them. No tree put itself there.
- Satisfied. "Full of sap" means filled and content. One rendering has "satisfied are Jehovah's trees." His care now, not a past act, keeps them full.
- Rooted. The cedar takes its name from the firmness of its roots. Its wood is durable, and Solomon used it in the temple — height and endurance together.
- Sheltering. The tree does not grow for itself. The birds nest in it, the stork uses the firs, the goat has the hills, the hyrax the rock clefts. The earth is a house of many chambers.
- Picturing. These trees stand for people. The honour and glory are God-given, held by those He planted, and used to shelter others.
Where the birds make their nests; [as for] the stork, the fir trees are her house.
Psalm 104 walks through creation piece by piece. By verse 17 the singer has reached the trees — not to admire their height, but to notice who lives in them. The cedars and firs God planted are housing. Why does the Maker of the world think about where a bird will raise its young?
The psalm does not leave God's work in the past. One writer points to the tense of the verbs:
The psalmist does not think of the Creator only in His past work as the Originator of all. He thinks of Him in His present work as the Sustainer of His creation. So the psalmist can say, "He sends the springs." He does not mean only that God sent them long ago; He does so now. Again he says, "He waters the hills," and "He causes the grass to grow." It is the present sustaining mercy of the Creator that fills the soul with praise. The psalmist also sees creation in the fullness of its life and activity. The springs are not simply made — they "run among the hills." The wild beasts quench their thirst at the streams. The birds sing and make their nests in the branches of the trees.
The short lines he quotes come from earlier verses of the psalm in an older translation.
Verse 16 speaks of trees the Lord planted. One writer follows the psalm from those cedars out to the hills and the rocks:
"The trees of the LORD are full": strength, beauty, and fine workmanship are in those "cedars of Lebanon which He has planted." And they do not grow only for themselves. They serve the birds that flock with joy to nest in their cover. The gloomy fir gives a welcoming home to the home-loving stork. The high hills, too, give a refuge for feet like the wild goat's, feet made for that very purpose. The clefts of the rock provide one for the timid, weak hyrax. So the earth is a house of many rooms, where its many tenants each find what they need. God is the great host of them all.
The great cedars look like timber for human use. One writer says that is not the whole reason they stand:
God planted the tall, spreading cedars not for man's use only, and not for looks or pride. He planted them for the birds too, so they could make their nests — unless the taller firs suit some birds better still.
Why does the psalm pair this bird with a fir tree? The answer is practical:
It makes its nest in the fir trees. Ps. 104:17. This agrees with the stork; it is a large bird, and selects a tree that is high and yet one that will well support its nest.
Another writer reads the trees as a picture of people, and notes that firs stay green all year:
"The trees of the LORD are full," for they share in the fullness of God's provision, and they picture mankind in various ways (v. 16). But the trees are God's provision for birds (v. 17). The stork is mentioned as living in the fir trees, which are evergreens. The changing seasons do not affect them.
The stork's Hebrew name is worth a look, and so is where the law placed the bird:
The word chasidah is related to the word translated "merciful." The bird is remarkable for its tender care, not only of its young, but of the aged. The law's list of clean and unclean creatures puts it among the unclean birds. Lev. 11:19; Deut. 14:18. This we might expect, since it feeds on mice, snakes and other reptiles.
If God houses a bird like this, what should His own children conclude? One writer draws the comparison:
Such creatures receive His kindness all the time, the unclean as surely as the clean. How much more must His sons receive it! The argument moves from creatures that are lower and further off to those whom grace is pleased to bring into the nearest relationship with Himself. The Lord's aim is to impress on His disciples, so favoured, their duty to trust the love of their Father without a doubt or a fear. Why should they not trust Him, instead of giving in to the anxiety that is natural to people who do not know God at all, or who own Him in a far lower way?
- Planted. The cedars and firs are trees "which He has planted" — God grew the house before the tenant needed it.
- Shared. They do not grow for themselves. The tall tree spends its whole life sheltering birds that could never have built it.
- Fitted. God matches each creature to its place. A high tree holds a large bird's nest. Hills suit wild goats, and rock clefts hide the small and weak.
- Sustained. The verbs stay in the present. He sends, He waters, He causes to grow; this is mercy happening now, not a memory of a finished project.
- Applied. He keeps a house for a bird Israel could not even eat. So His own children have no reason to be afraid.