He made the moon for seasons the sun knoweth its going down.
Psalm 104 is a song about creation. Here it turns from springs, grass and trees to the two great lights in the sky. Two verbs carry the weight: the moon was made for a purpose, and the sun keeps a set time. Nothing above us is drifting.
The psalm walks through the same sequence as Genesis 1, the Bible's opening chapter. One writer draws the contrast:
In Genesis 1 we have the record of creation; in this psalm the song of creation. The psalm in its main outline follows the story of creation. The record presents the creation in its beginning: the song sets forth the creation in its present active organization. "One portrays the beginning of the eternal order, the other its perpetual living spectacle. Hence, too, the Ode has far more animation than the Record. The latter is a picture of still life: the former is crowded with figures full of stir and movement."
So the psalm does not just report what God once arranged. It shows that order still running.
The sun sets on time, and that timing is what the psalm praises. One writer reads these lines as proof of God's perfect order:
Each of these vast glowing bodies hangs in the sky. Each rises and sets at its appointed time — not a minute or a second too late. Each keeps its assigned place, or moves in its appointed sphere, without straying one inch to the right or to the left. There is no confusion, no clashing. "He made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting." All is perfect order.
The verse names the moon before the sun, and it tells us only that the sun goes down. One commentator finds the reason in what God appoints:
His appointed times take account of darkness as well as light. This is clearly the point here. So the moon is mentioned before the sun, and of the sun only his going down. Yet the moon shows that the darkness is not unrelieved, and not relieved by chance. Darkness, however, is of His appointment. That is comfort and yet mystery. And at His appointment, too, the night brings the wild beasts out of their lairs.
Another writer turns the same sequence into a lesson from lived experience:
Above all the varied experiences of His creatures, God reigns in sovereign wisdom and power. The phases of the moon mark off the months, and these have an effect on all mankind (v. 19). The psalm speaks of the sun "going down" before we read of its rising (v. 22). We find in experience that times of trial and darkness so often come before the times of light and joy.
Israel's set times began with a trumpet blown at the new moon. One commentator explains what that new moon pictures:
Israel has been crying for God's face to shine upon her as of old: here it does shine upon her. As a result she shines, for this new moon, clothing itself again with the glory of the sun, is her own symbol. The blowing of the trumpets at the beginning of the seventh month is the first of the series of set times which speak of Israel's blessing.
The moon shines only with the sun's glory, and that is why it pictures a people whose light comes back to them from God.
The sun and moon each hold a place in this order. One writer points to a third light with no place in it:
The sun is that light in the heavens which connects itself with the earth, with the interests and the doings of the children of men. The sun rules the day, the moon and the stars the night. But "the morning star" receives no appointment in such a system… The children of men have lain down, and their sleep, in divine mercy, is still sweet to them, while the morning star is decking the face of the sky.
- Appointed. The moon marks the seasons and the sun knows when to set. Every light keeps its time and place, with no confusion and no clashing.
- Appointed darkness. The moon comes first, and the sun only as going down. God's appointed times take account of darkness as well as light — comfort and yet mystery.
- Appointed for you. The psalm sets sunset before sunrise. In life too, trial and darkness often come before light and joy.
- Appointed feasts. A trumpet at the new moon opened Israel's set times. The moon clothed again with the sun's glory is her own symbol of restored light.
- Appointed — with one exception. The sun rules the day, the moon and stars the night. The morning star has no appointment here. It shines while people still sleep.
Thou makest darkness, and it is night, wherein all the beasts of the forest creep forth
Psalm 104 praises God through the world He made, and here the song turns to nightfall. God makes the darkness Himself — so why do the night and its hunting animals belong in a psalm of praise?
The psalm follows the order of the creation account. This verse sits in the fourth day, when God set the lights in the sky.
The order of creation is followed here as by One who was with God — yes, who is Himself the Creator... Then the moon for seasons, and the sun, making darkness and light on the fourth day (vv. 19-23).
Night is not what is left over when God stops working. God's rule over it brings up difficulties that only faith can work through.
But we come now to consider His government, in which there are difficulties that give room and exercise for faith. His appointed times include darkness as well as light... Darkness is of His appointment; which is comfort and yet mystery. And at His appointment, too, the night brings the wild beasts out of their dens. The young lions are cared for, as the innocent sheep are, and roaring after prey, they seek it and find it from God. So the devourer is provided for, like everything else.
The heavenly bodies keep time to the second. The same order runs through the animal world below.
Each of these vast glowing orbs, hung in the skies, rises and sets at its appointed time — not a minute or a second too late. It keeps its assigned place, or moves in its appointed sphere, without straying an inch to the right or to the left. There is no confusion, no clashing. "He made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun knows its time for setting." All is perfect order. And if we look at the lower creation around us, it is the same perfect order. Everything is in its appointed time and place, so beautifully described in Psalm 104.
The older translation he used reads "He appointed the moon for seasons" — the wording behind his point about appointed times.
The psalm mentions the sun going down before it mentions the sun rising. One writer reads that order as a picture of how life runs.
The sun is spoken of as "going down" before we read of its rising (v. 22). This is because we find in experience that times of trial and darkness so often come before the times of light and joy. God makes the darkness (v. 20), and the beasts of the forest come out, expecting to find food while their prey is unaware. But God has ordained it so, for He cares for the cruel, predatory animals as well as for the weak and helpless.
The night-hunting of the forest belongs to a creation that has been spoiled by sin. Even so, the supply never stops, and it goes out to every creature without distinction.
The true God gives to all life and breath and everything. Even in a ruined world this active kindness went out impartially... What a commentary Psalm 104 is on God's sustaining goodness!
The psalm describes a world governed by sun and moon, where activity is split between day and night. One writer points out what is missing from that arrangement.
The sun is the light in the heavens that connects itself with the earth, with the interests and the doings of the children of men. The sun rules the day, the moon and the stars the night. But "the morning star" receives no appointment in such a system... The morning star has no place in such an arrangement. The children of men have lain down. Their sleep, in divine mercy, is still sweet to them, while the morning star is brightening the face of the sky.
- Appointed — night is not a gap in God's work. He makes it. His appointed times take in darkness as well as light.
- Ordered — sun, moon and creatures each keep their assigned time and place. There is no confusion, no clashing.
- Provided — at His appointment the beasts come out. Even the devourer has its food: the young lions seek their prey and find it from God.
- Patterned — the psalm names sunset before sunrise. Trial and darkness so often come first; light and joy follow.
- Unappointed — the sun and moon rule the world's day and night. The morning star gets no appointment there; it brightens the sky while people sleep.
The young lions roar after the prey, and to seek their food from God.
Psalm 104 moves through creation piece by piece. When night falls, the psalm does not look away from the hunt. It puts the roar of the lion inside God's ordered world. If the predator's meal comes from God's hand, what does that say about the way He governs?
This is not praise for an untouched world. Sin has already damaged it, and God still keeps everything running.
Sin has brought ruin in. Yet Jehovah has never let go His hand. He controls and orders everything by His providence — and note that where there is no evil there is no occasion for providence, properly speaking. He is the God of creation, of government, and of relationships of mercy and judgment with His creatures. He goes on displaying His power in the middle of the evil, and despite it. In such a world what we see does witness misery, but faith sees Him in the middle of it.
The lion looks like the picture of self-sufficiency. This writer says its strength does not free it from needing help.
Young lions are strong and vigorous. Even so, they are not independent of outside help. They still "seek their food from God" (v. 21). If He did not make provision for them, they would go hungry, just as is true in our own case.
Night comes by God's appointment, and so does the lion's meal. Even its teeth and claws point back to the One who gave them.
Darkness is of His appointment. That is a comfort and also a mystery. At His appointment, too, the night brings the wild beasts out of their dens. God cares for the young lions, just as He cares for the innocent sheep. Roaring after prey, they seek it and find it from Him. So He provides for the devourer, as He does for everything else. There is no avoiding that, and nature bears clear witness to it. Teeth, claws and tongue bear witness for the lion. Who gave them to him? The same One who gave the lion's prey the quickness to escape.
God does more than put up with these hunters.
God not only tolerates but cares for these creatures that prey on others. They are part of His wise plan — once put under the hand of man and subject to him, but now turned against him as enemies.
The psalm usually speaks of Jehovah. In this line the word for God changes, and one writer finds meaning in the change.
It is worth noticing that the young lions are said "to seek their food from El" (v. 21). Is this not to point to His supremacy over the fierce and unsubdued powers of nature? Yes, and in holiness, over such a power when wielded by Satan? The use of this name would then be of great significance here.
Commentators differ on how far to press this. Darby, on this same line, notes only that the young lions seek their food from God. He does not link them to Satan.
The scale of this provision is far beyond anything a man could manage.
Think how overwhelmed man would be if he had to provide food for even one class of these creatures for a single day. Only of God can it be said, "These all look to you, to give them their food in due season."
In a list of the creatures God provides for, the hunters come first and last. One writer draws comfort from that for anyone who feels forgotten.
It is significant that the series opens and closes with a mention of beasts and birds of prey. They might seem worthless, or even harmful, and yet He cares for them with unerring wisdom. Will He then fail to watch over His child who knows and trusts Him?
- Night — Darkness is not an accident. It comes by God's appointment, and the beasts that come out in it are still inside His rule over a world spoiled by sin.
- Roar — The lion's cry is a form of seeking. Power does not remove dependence. The strongest animal in the psalm still gets its meal from God.
- Hand — God supplies the predator, not only the gentle creature. Teeth and claws came from the same Maker who gave the prey its speed.
- Name — The word for God here is El. One writer reads it as a mark of His supremacy over the fierce, untamed forces of nature.
- Child — God feeds creatures man could not keep alive for one day. He cares even for those that look useless or harmful. So the believer who trusts Him need not fear that God will overlook him.
The sun ariseth, they retreat, and lay them down in their dens.
God's care covers the night as well as the day: the beasts hunt in the dark, and at dawn they withdraw as man starts his work. This line marks the border between two shifts — and it raises the question of who set that border.
Sunrise keeps a schedule. One writer sets the order of the heavens beside the order of the animals below.
Each of these vast bright bodies, hung in the skies, rises and sets at its appointed time — not a minute or a second too late. Each keeps its assigned place, or moves in its assigned sphere, without straying an inch to the right or to the left. There is no confusion, no clashing. "He appointed the moon for seasons: the sun knows his going down." All is perfect order. Or we may look at the lower creation around us — it is the same perfect order. Everything is in its appointed time and place, so beautifully described in Psalm 104.
Verse 21 has just pictured lions roaring after prey. One writer reads the retreat at dawn as a check on that violence — and puts man under the same limit.
A rein holds this strife in check, even through the fixed order of day and night, with all that this implies: "the sun arises, they gather together and lie down in their dens." Man lies under the same restraint, with the added toil that marks him as the responsible creature under God's discipline: he "goes forth to his work and to his labour, until the evening." His work is to be in the light, not in darkness. Yet the darkness limits and controls him too, in its measure. But it has its measure.
(Older translations say "they gather themselves together"; the ESV says "they steal away.")
If sunrise is appointed, so is the night before it. The same writer faces the harder half: the hunter, not only the hunted, depends on God.
Darkness, however, comes by His appointment. That is comfort and yet mystery. By His appointment, too, the night brings the wild beasts out from their lairs. The young lions are cared for, as the innocent sheep, and roaring after prey, seek it and find it from God. So God provides for the devourer, as for everything else. There is no avoiding that, and nature shows it plainly: teeth, claws, and tongue bear witness for the lion. Who gave them to him? The Same who gave to the lion's prey the agility to escape. An equal hand has been at work for both, as if the world were designed to be a battlefield of forces not very unequal, each one cared for and sustained.
A strong animal looks self-sufficient. One writer denies it, and sets the lion's sleeping hours beside man's working ones.
Young lions are strong and vigorous, yet they are not independent of outside help. They "seek their food from God" (v. 21). If He did not make provision for them, they would go hungry, just as is true in our own case. But unlike man, "when the sun arises, they gather together and lie down in their dens." God has also ordered matters so that "man goes to his work and his labour until the evening" (v. 23).
The psalm mentions the sun going down before it mentions the sun rising. One writer reads that order as a picture of life.
The psalm speaks of the sun "going down" before we read of its rising (v. 22). In experience, times of trial and darkness so often come before the times of light and joy.
Why does a psalm about creation dwell on hunting and hiding? Because it shows God governing creation, not creation as it first came from His hand.
Here we see that, in the middle of the ruin which sin has introduced, Jehovah has never let go His hand. He controls and orders everything by His providence. (Note that where there is no evil there is no occasion for providence in the proper sense.)… In Him this does not result in the removal and non-existence of evil. It results in majesty — supremacy over evil, and the acknowledged, necessary dependence of all things on His providence and government, which restrains and represses evil.
- Appointed — Sunrise comes at its set time, and the beasts withdraw at theirs. The whole scene is order, not coincidence.
- Appointed darkness — He appoints the night that sends the lions out, just as He appoints the dawn that sends them in. Comfort and mystery together.
- Appointed limits — Day and night hold back the strife. The lion's hunt has a boundary, and so does man's labour, which belongs to the light.
- Appointed dependence — Even the strongest hunter takes its food from God's hand. No creature, and no person, feeds itself.
- Appointed government — Sin has damaged the world, so what we see here is providence. God's hand has never let go, and His supremacy holds evil in check.
Man goeth forth unto his work, and to his labour until the evening.
Psalm 104 praises God for creation as one ordered whole — light, waters, mountains, trees, animals, sun and moon. Verse 23 puts the human working day inside that order. Why does daily work belong in a song of praise? And what does the closing word "evening" teach?
The verse answers the one before it. Night belongs to the prowling animals. When the sun rises they withdraw, and man's turn begins. One writer sees God holding the rein on that struggle among the creatures, with man under the same restraint:
The rein is kept on this strife, even in the fixed order of day and night, with all that this implies: "the sun rises, they gather together and lie down in their dens." Man is under this same subjection, with the added toil that marks him as the responsible creature under God's discipline: he "goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening." His work is to be in the light, not in darkness; and yet the darkness also limits and controls him in its measure.
The verse tells us what is normal, not what people always do:
God has also so ordered matters that "man goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening" (v. 23). This is normal, though it is by no means always practised today. In the millennium these abnormalities will surely be largely corrected.
Work did not begin as punishment. It was already man's charge in the garden, and after the fall it came with toil:
Even when man was unfallen, he had responsibility. He was called to till and keep the garden... When fallen, as the ground was cursed on his account, he had to eat of it all the days of his life with toil... Man goes out to his work till the evening; and, as he is, it is well ordered for him. But slothfulness upsets all this, and casts into a deep sleep while it is day, and pays the penalty.
The psalm does not present man as self-supporting. He works inside a world that God stocks and sustains:
The true God gives to all life and breath and all things. Even in a ruined world this active kindness went out to everyone alike. He makes the grass grow for the cattle, and plants for man to use... They all look to You to give them their food in its season. You give it to them, and they gather it. You open Your hand, and they are filled with good... What a comment is Psalm 104 on God's sustaining goodness!
Writers apply the verse to Jesus too. He did not stand outside the human working day. He lived inside it:
This word was written in ancient times, and what it describes is the common lot of humanity. The Lord, when He became man, accepted the conditions fully. His hard and unresting service during His public ministry was unusual in only one respect: it consisted of relieving man's physical and spiritual suffering.
Evening brought Him what it brings every worker — weariness, and sleep. Another writer sets two scenes of His weariness side by side:
In Mark 4 He had gone through a day of toil, and in the evening He was weary, as nature will be after labour. Sleep is then provided for him, to restore him to his service when morning returns. Jesus proved all this. He was asleep on the pillow in the boat. In John 4 He is weary again, hungry and thirsty too. He waits at the well while the disciples go to the village for food. But when they come, they find Him fed and rested, and that without food, or drink, or sleep. He had been made happy by the fruit of His labour in the soul of a poor sinner.
The verse sets a limit on labour. One writer takes David as a man who worked to the close of his day and then let go of all he had built:
And when all his service is ended, and nothing remains but to reap the fruit of it... he retires, ceasing to hold his place when he must cease to serve. The throne of Jerusalem was no more to him than his shepherd's tent at Bethlehem. In both, all his desire was to fill his day as a hired workman. And now, having come to the evening of his day (for "man goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening"), he retires. He will not glorify himself.
- Order. Day and night are God's fixed order; the beasts have the dark hours, and man's working time is the light.
- Duty. Work belonged to man before the fall and still suits him now. Idleness in daylight carries its own penalty.
- Supply. The God who opens His hand to fill every creature also feeds the man who goes out to work.
- Company. The Lord Jesus took up this same working day, serving until He was weary at evening.
- Evening. Every day of service has a set close; the wise worker fills his day, then lays it down without seeking glory.