Hallelujah! Praise, ye servants of Jehovah, praise the name of Jehovah.
Psalm 113 opens the set of psalms Israel sang at Passover. It does not ask; it commands. Whom does it call, what do they praise, and why does it burst out with "Hallelujah"?
One writer tracks where else that cry appears in the Psalms. He finds it only where the Lord Jesus is seen returned to Zion.
The psalm ends with "Hallelujah." Other psalms in this book end the same way... But until the Lord Jesus is seen as having returned to Zion, this word "Hallelujah" does not appear in the book of Psalms. Psalms 104:35; 105:45; 106:1, 48 are the only other places in the whole collection where it appears. We may look in vain elsewhere in the Old Testament for that word now so familiar to Christians.
Read closely, the verse issues its command twice — first naming the singers, then naming the theme. One commentator sets out the shape plainly, and adds who does the summoning.
As to the details of this psalm, it is still "Hallelujah," and then it takes up the two points mentioned — "Praise, O you servants of Jehovah" — "Praise the name of Jehovah."
Christ summons them in Spirit, blessed at their head, to praise the name of Jehovah — the subject of the Hallelujahs in each... Note, His name is to be praised to the end of the earth.
Service and worship are not two separate callings here. One writer explains why the call goes to servants.
All servants of Jehovah are urged to praise His name. In this way they show that their obedience springs out of joyful adoration — the only service that can have value for Him.
Another writer shows what that name does to a servant's heart, and who made it known.
The mention of the name of the Lord is enough to bow the heart of His every servant in lowly praise and adoration. In each of these first three verses His name appears, for His name is the expression of His nature. The Lord Jesus in His prayer of John 17 speaks beautifully when He says, "I have manifested your name to the people whom you gave me out of the world" (v. 6). Every detail of His life displayed God's name.
The verses just after it stretch this praise across all time and all places. One writer sums up how far it goes.
The servants of the Lord are called to praise the name of the Lord from "this time" — the time of God's public intervention in the government of the world. His name will be blessed through all time — "forevermore." It will be blessed throughout the whole world — "from the rising of the sun to its setting." And it will be blessed "above all," whether that means "all nations" or all creation.
The rest of the psalm gives the reason: the One who is highest is the One who stoops lowest. One writer says His supremacy shows itself in that grace, and names the One who made it known.
"None is like Him, even Jehovah our God." It closes with this, because He exalts Himself — and in grace He humbles Himself. Who has made this known? Jesus! That is now known to believers in Jesus. But indeed His supremacy is known in this grace, for this is what He does: "He humbles Himself."
The same pattern shapes whom He chooses and whom He lifts.
God chooses weak things, so that it may be clear that good and blessing come from His power and love... He dwells on high, but humbles Himself to look on the things in heaven and earth. He raises the poor out of the dust, and lifts the needy out of the dunghill to set him with princes, even the princes of His people.
Israel did not only read this psalm. They sang it, at the most important meal of their year.
Here this Hallel (that is, praise), as the Jews call Psalms 113–118, ends. These are sung in the family celebration of the Passover night. They "are divided," writes Delitzsch, "into two parts." The first half (113, 114) is sung before the meal, before the emptying of the second festival cup. The other half (115–118) is sung after the meal, after the filling of the fourth cup. To that fourth cup the words "when they had sung a hymn" (Matthew 26:30; Mark 14:26), recorded after the institution of the Lord's Supper, may refer.
- Hallelujah — the psalm opens and closes with the same word. One writer notes it appears in the Psalms only where the Lord is seen returned to Zion.
- Servants — the call goes to those who serve. Their praise shows that their obedience springs out of joyful adoration, the only service of value to Him.
- The name — praise fastens on the name because the name expresses His nature, and Christ said He had made that name known.
- The reach — from this time and for evermore, from sunrise to sunset, above all nations and all creation.
- The reason — the One who is highest humbles Himself. He raises the poor from the dust to sit with princes. Grace, not human strength, is what the praise celebrates.
Blessed be the name of Jehovah, from this time forth and for evermore!
Psalm 113 opens the group of praise psalms that Israel sang at Passover. Verse 1 calls on the name of the LORD. Verse 2 blesses that name — from a fixed point in time, and with no ending. Two questions sit inside it. What is "the name"? And why does praise start "from this time forth" instead of always?
The verse does not bless an abstraction. It blesses what God has made known of Himself. That is why the psalm says "name" three times in its opening lines.
The mention of the name of the Lord is enough to bow the heart of His every servant in lowly praise and adoration. In each of these three verses His name is mentioned, for His name is the expression of His nature. In His prayer in John 17 the Lord Jesus says these beautiful words: "I have manifested Your name to the people whom You gave me out of the world" (v. 6). Every detail of His life manifested God's name.
What does that name hold? Scripture opens it up a little at a time.
The Name is that which sets forth Who and What the Lord is. James calls it "the excellent Name which has been called upon You" (2:7). The Old Testament shows its wealth little by little. It always encourages the believer that one day its vast treasures will be fully opened. And so it has come to pass in the Person of our glorious Saviour. In the first chapter of the New Testament He is named Jesus — Jehovah the Saviour — and Emmanuel, God with us. In the Name we have an endless inheritance that never fades. Our faith can take hold of it as we grow in grace and in the knowledge of Himself.
"From this time forth" points to a set moment, not to a vague past. Which moment?
The servants of the Lord are called to praise the name of the Lord from "this time" — the time of God's public intervention in the government of the world. His name will be blessed through all time — "for evermore"; throughout the whole world — "from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof."
The praise called for here is not bare duty. It shows where a servant's obedience comes from.
All servants of Jehovah are urged to praise it. In this way they show that their obedience springs out of joyful adoration. That is the only service which can have value for Him. And the answer rings out joyfully: "Blessed be Jehovah's Name! from this time even for ever." The full worship, too, is seen coming in: "from the rising of the sun to the going down of it, Jehovah's Name shall be praised."
The praise does not stop at Israel's borders.
Here the scope is clearly wider. Israel may be Jehovah's earthly centre, but His name shall be praised from east to west, from that day and evermore.
"Forevermore" outlasts even the age of blessing the psalm anticipates. Praise that begins in a dated hour does not stop when that era closes.
"From the rising of the sun to its going down" no doubt refers to the millennial age. Then Christ the Sun of righteousness will arise (Mal. 4:2). He will bless that whole age with the goodness of His presence. That age will come to an end, but will give place to something even better, for the Lord's name will certainly be praised for eternity.
This psalm was not only written down. Families sang it on Passover night, the meal that remembers Israel's rescue from Egypt.
Here this Hallel (that is, praise), as the Jews call Psalms 113 — 118, ends. These are sung in the family celebration of the Passover night; and they "are divided," writes Delitzsch, "into two parts, the one half (113, 114) being sung before the meal, before the emptying of the second festal cup, and the other half (115 — 118) after the meal, after the filling of the fourth cup." Delitzsch adds that the words "when they had sung a hymn" (Matthew 26:30; Mark 14:26) may refer to this. Those words come after the institution of the Lord's Supper, which was linked with the fourth festal cup.
- Name — His name expresses what He is — His own nature made known. Christ showed that name in every detail of His life.
- Moment — "From this time forth" marks a starting point: the hour God steps in publicly to govern the world.
- Mouths — The call goes to His servants. Their praise proves their obedience springs from joyful adoration — the only service He values.
- Map — The blessing runs east to west; Israel is the centre, but the Name is praised across the whole earth.
- Forever — The age of blessing will end. The praise will not. Something better takes its place, and the Name is praised for eternity.
From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, let Jehovah's name be praised.
Psalm 113 opens and closes with "Hallelujah," and each of its first verses widens the call to praise. So how far does that praise reach, and when does it happen?
One writer traces how each phrase widens this praise, in time and in place:
The Lord calls His servants to praise His name from "this time" — the time when God steps in publicly to govern the world. His name will be blessed through all time — "forevermore." It will be blessed throughout the whole world — "from the rising of the sun to its setting." And it will be blessed "above all," whether that means "all nations" or all creation.
The psalm praises God's name — what He has shown Himself to be. One writer names who leads that praise:
Christ calls them in spirit, blessed as they are with Him at their head, to praise the name of Jehovah. That name is the subject of the "Hallelujah" in each psalm. No one is like Jehovah, the God of that people. He is high above all the nations, and His glory is above the heavens. All things in heaven and earth are united under His possession, and He especially blesses the poor and lowly Israel. This is Psalm 113. Note, His name is to be praised to the end of the earth.
Another writer notes who is called, and what their praise says about their obedience:
All servants of Jehovah are urged to praise His name. In this way their obedience shows that it springs out of joyful adoration — the only service that can have value for Him.
Israel is the people the psalm has in view, yet verse 3 pushes past any single land:
Here the scope is clearly wider. Israel may be Jehovah's earthly centre, but His name shall be praised from east to west, from that day and evermore.
Writers link this wider reach to a promise made through the prophet Malachi:
Malachi 1:11 provides for the constant and worldwide recognition of Jehovah's name among the nations, and proper worship in every place.
Commentators read the sunrise-to-sunset picture as pointing to a coming age, and then reaching past even that:
"From the rising of the sun to its going down" no doubt refers to the millennial age, when Christ the Sun of righteousness will arise (Mal. 4:2), to bless that whole dispensation with the goodness of His presence. That age will come to an end, but will give place to something even better, for the Lord's name will certainly be praised for eternity.
Why is this name worth praising? One writer points to verses 6 and 7:
If Jehovah's name is praised, then what He is is revealed. Grace alone is in question here. He lives on high, yet He "humbles Himself to look on the heavens and on the earth." That is grace, and the natural heart cannot take it in, for man would gladly say, "God cannot humble Himself." And further, though it is not a greater thing, He shows His grace to the poor in the dust and the needy on the ash heap.
The words "humbles Himself to look" come from an older translation of verse 6. The ESV reads, "who looks far down on the heavens and the earth."
These psalms had a fixed place in Israel's worship:
Here this Hallel (that is, praise), as the Jews call Psalms 113 — 118, ends. These are sung in the family celebration of the Passover night. Delitzsch writes that they "are divided into two parts, the one half (113, 114) being sung before the meal... and the other half (115 — 118) after the meal... to which the words, 'when they had sung a hymn' (Matt. 26:30, Mark 14:26), after the institution of the Lord's Supper... may refer."
One writer applies this praise to the whole span of a believer's day:
It is our privilege to spend morning, noon, evening, and midnight presenting the sacrifice of praise to God. He assures us that this sacrifice is always most acceptable to Him. "Whoever offers praise," He says, "glorifies me."
- The Name — The praise goes to God's name: who He has shown Himself to be. Writers call it the subject of every "Hallelujah" in these psalms.
- From this time — Verse 2 starts the praise now and stretches it forever. Verse 3 stretches it across the earth, from east to west.
- To the nations — The praise reaches past Israel to worship "in every place." Writers tie this to Malachi's promise about the nations.
- Because He stoops — Grace is the reason. The God who lives on high looks down and lifts the poor out of the dust.
- So today — These psalms were sung at Passover. The same praise can fill your own day, from morning to midnight.
Jehovah is high above all nations, his glory above the heavens.
Psalm 113 calls the servants of the LORD to praise His name in every place and for ever. Verse 4 tells us how high He is. The psalm then turns that height into its great surprise: the One who is so high is the One who stoops.
Verses 1-4 form one call to praise, and it widens step by step until it reaches the word "above."
(vv. 1-4) The servants of the Lord are called to praise the name of the Lord from "this time" — the time of God's public intervention in the government of the world. His name will be blessed through all time — "for evermore." It will be blessed throughout the whole world — "from the rising of the sun to its setting." And it will be blessed "above all," whether that is "all nations," or all creation.
The verse makes two claims, and they are not the same claim twice.
"Jehovah," the God of the Jews, the Hebrews, "is high above all nations" — all earthly supremacy of glory. "Above the heavens": He is not confined there, but above them all. "None like him, even Jehovah our God" — that is how it now closes, because He exalts Himself, and in grace He humbles Himself. And who has made this known? Jesus!
Being above everything could mean being distant from everything. The psalm draws the opposite conclusion.
And rightly so! The whole scene of this praise is His creation. "He is high above all nations": yes, "Jehovah's glory is above the heavens." The Incomparable One! He has placed His dwelling on high; but He sees, and with tender interest, all that is in heaven and on earth. This leads to the next verse, in which we see how deep this interest goes, and how wonderful are the results of it.
One writer saw the same wonder in the laws God gave Israel about oxen, borrowed coats and injured servants.
Here, too, we may see the amazing condescension of Him who is the great God of heaven and earth. He can still stoop to settle disputes between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. "Who is like the Lord our God, who humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth?" He governs the universe. Yet He can occupy Himself with providing a covering for one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm. He humbles Himself to control the movements of those countless worlds that roll through endless space. And He records the fall of a sparrow.
(That wording follows an older translation of verse 6. The ESV reads, "who looks far down on the heavens and the earth.")
If even looking at what He has made is a humbling for Him, the New Testament goes much further.
The greatness of God's humbling Himself is insisted on here. Who is the One who humbled Himself? The One who is high above all others, His glory above the heavens (v. 4). Who could possibly be like Him? (v. 5). Even to consider created things, whether in the heavens or on earth, requires Him to humble Himself (v. 6). The New Testament goes much farther than this. It declares that the Lord Jesus, who was in the form of God, came down to become a Servant, and was found in human form (Phil. 2:5-8). This required Him to humble Himself. Then, as Man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to death — not an ordinary death, but the death of the cross.
The psalm had a fixed place in Israel's year.
The Jews call Psalms 113 — 118 the Hallel (that is, praise). These are sung at the family celebration of the Passover night. They "are divided," writes Delitzsch, "into two parts. The one half (113, 114) is sung before the meal, before the emptying of the second festal cup. The other half (115 — 118) is sung after the meal, after the filling of the fourth cup. To this fourth cup the words, 'when they had sung a hymn' (Matt. 26:30, Mark 14:26), after the institution of the Lord's Supper, may refer."
- Height. Verse 4 makes two claims: He is above every earthly power, and even the heavens cannot hold His glory.
- Stoop. That height is what makes His attention amazing. He dwells on high, yet He sees everything in heaven and on earth with tender interest.
- Reach. The stoop touches the smallest things: a borrowed coat, a sparrow's fall, one man's dispute with another.
- Person. Commentators point past the psalm to Christ. He was in the form of God, came down to be a Servant, and obeyed even to the death of the cross.
- Praise. He is that high, and He stoops that low. So the psalm calls His servants to praise His name across the whole earth and for ever.
Who is like unto Jehovah our God, who hath placed his dwelling on high;
Psalm 113 asks who can be compared with the LORD our God, whose glory is above the heavens. What kind of greatness has to stoop even to look at heaven and earth — and where does that stooping land?
The comparison is not settled by height alone. It turns on what the high One does — and on who made that known.
"There is none like Him, even Jehovah our God." With that the psalm now closes, because He exalts Himself, and in grace He humbles Himself. And who has made this known? Jesus! That is now known to believers in Jesus.
Being seated on high is not a picture of a tall throne. It says something about where God is, and about who can reach Him.
God dwells in light that no man can approach. That is God's nature, it is true; but the heavens are all the things we look at as something under God. It is light no one can enter; neither man nor angel can get there. "Above all heavens"... God is at the top of all, though He "humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth."
Verse 6 says He must lower Himself even to look at the heavens. Why would He? One writer names the reason.
Grace alone is in question here. His dwelling is on high, yet He "humbles Himself to look on the heavens and on the earth." It is grace. The natural heart cannot even imagine it. Man would rather say, "The Deity cannot humble itself."
If He must stoop even to look at the heavens, our own scale of big and small means nothing to Him.
Great and small are only words people use. They cannot apply to Him, "who humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven," as well as "the things that are on earth." They are all alike to Him "who sits on the circle of the earth." Jehovah can tell the number of the stars, and while He does so He can take knowledge of a falling sparrow; He can make the whirlwind His chariot, and a broken heart His dwelling place. Nothing is great or small with God.
That is why the verse is a resting place in trouble, not just a statement about God's size.
In every fresh difficulty, great or small, our wisdom is to stand still — to stop working at it ourselves and find our sweet rest in God's salvation... So we have only to cast ourselves, in trusting faith, on Him who "humbles Himself alike to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth."
One commentator follows the psalm's question into the New Testament, where the stoop goes deeper still.
The greatness of God's humbling Himself is insisted on here. Who is the One who humbled Himself? The One who is high above all others, His glory above the heavens (v. 4). Who could possibly be like Him? (v. 5). Even to consider created things, whether in the heavens or on earth, means He must humble Himself (v. 6). The New Testament goes much further. It declares that the Lord Jesus, being in the form of God, came down to become a Servant, appearing as a Man (Phil. 2:5-8).
The verse does not stay in the heights. The looking down reaches the dust and the childless woman of verses 7 to 9.
It is a rich, lofty note of thanks to Jehovah for all He has done in grace for His people. It paints striking pictures: the poor one raised out of the dust, and the barren woman made to keep house. The songs of Hannah (1 Sam. 2) and of Mary (Luke 1) belong with this; and they were, in their day, the poor one and the childless wife.
Behind that picture lies a principle about how God works.
God chooses weak things, so that it may be evident that good and blessing come from His power and love.
- Height. He dwells in light no man or angel can enter, at the top of all.
- Stoop. From that height, even a look at heaven and earth means stooping. Writers call it pure grace — the one thing the natural mind refuses to grant God.
- Scale. Because He stoops so far, "great" and "small" are human words only: the God who counts the stars notices a sparrow and lives in a broken heart.
- Person. Jesus answers the psalm's question. Being in the form of God, He came down to be a Servant — the stoop carried to its furthest point.
- Reach. The stoop ends in the dust: the poor one raised, the childless woman given a house — God chooses weak things, so the blessing is plainly His.
Who humbleth himself to look on the heavens and on the earth?
Psalm 113 praises a God whose glory is above the heavens and who still bends down to look. Verse 6 is that stoop, and commentators ask how far down it reaches and why a God so high would look at all.
The verse names heaven and earth together. God must come down to look at either one.
God dwells in light that no man can approach. That is God's nature, it is true; but the heavens are all the things we look at as something under God. It is light inaccessible in itself; neither man nor angel can get there. "Above all heavens" is like the picture in Ezekiel. There we see the cherubim and all around them. Then comes the vault, which stands for the heavens. God is above it all — and yet He "humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and in the earth."
The ESV has "looks far down." Older translations read "humbles Himself to behold," and the Hebrew can be taken either way. One older version, which writes God's name as "Jehovah," gives both readings:
Who is like Jehovah our God, that dwells on high, that sees deep (or, humbles Himself to see) in the heavens and in the earth?
The natural mind resists the whole idea. A God who lowers Himself sounds impossible to us.
His dwelling is on high, yet He "humbles Himself to look on the heavens and on the earth." This is grace, and the natural heart cannot even imagine it. Man would like to say, "God cannot humble Himself." But there is more, though it is not a greater thing. He shows His grace to the poor in the dust and to the needy on the rubbish heap.
Commentators link this verse with Philippians 2. There the same principle goes deeper.
This psalm presses on us how great a thing it is that God humbles Himself. Who is the One who humbled Himself? The One who is high above all others, His glory above the heavens (v. 4). Who could be like Him? (v. 5). Even to look at created things, in the heavens or on earth, He must humble Himself (v. 6). The New Testament goes much further. It says that the Lord Jesus, being in the form of God, came down to become a Servant, found in appearance as a Man (Phil. 2:5-8).
The same stooping shows in the small details of God's law.
Here we see how amazingly He stoops down. He is the great God of heaven and earth, yet He can settle a case between one man and another about the death of an ox, the loan of a garment, or the loss of a servant's tooth. "Who is like the LORD our God, who humbles Himself to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth?" He rules the universe, yet He can take up the task of covering one of His creatures. He guides the angel's flight and takes notice of a crawling worm.
The same truth meets our own troubles. We divide difficulties into ones we can manage and ones we cannot.
We cannot say that some difficulties are small enough for us to handle, while others need nothing less than the hand of God. No; all are alike beyond us. We are as little able to change the colour of a hair as to remove a mountain — to form a blade of grass as to create a world. All are alike to us, and all are alike to God. So we have only to trust Him and cast ourselves on Him — the One who "humbles Himself (alike) to behold the things that are in heaven and on earth."
The next lines of the psalm show what He does once He has looked.
He has humbled Himself so that others might be lifted up. And these are the lowliest of people: the poor, raised from the dust, and the needy, raised from the ash heap, a burned-out existence. And these He has seated with princes (v. 8). Marvellous grace!
That lifting reaches its highest point in a birth:
Mary's song, at the beginning of the New Testament, reminds us — could we ever forget it — that one birth has taken the place of all others for us here. That birth was impossible unless God stooped down to man. And with it has come, for everyone who receives divine grace now, the promise and the power of a resurrection. By that resurrection, those brought lower than the dwellers on the rubbish heap are raised higher than princes! Hallelujah!
- He stoops — God is above the heavens themselves, so even to look at heaven, not only earth, He must come down.
- He stoops in grace — the natural mind says a God cannot lower Himself; the psalm says He does, and that is grace.
- He stoops further — Philippians 2 carries the same principle deeper: the One in the form of God came down to become a Servant and Man.
- He stoops to everything — a governed universe and a servant's tooth are alike to Him, so no trouble of ours is too small or too large to bring.
- He stoops to lift — He lifts the beggar out of the ashes and seats him with princes, and one birth opens that same rising to all who receive His grace.
He raiseth up the poor out of the dust; from the dung-hill he lifteth up the needy,
Psalm 113 is a psalm of praise that moves from the height of God's glory to the lowest place a person can occupy on earth. The wonder of verse 7 is not that God rules. It is that the One who dwells on high bends down to the dust and the ash heap. And He does not just relieve the person He finds there — He seats him with princes.
God's stooping is part of His greatness, not a break from it. His looking down is never idle. It ends in lifting.
The greatness of the Lord is shown further in the grace that stoops. The One whose dwelling is on high humbles Himself to look on the heavens and the earth. And looking upon the earth He raises up the poor. He lifts up the needy. He blesses the hopeless, for He makes the barren woman a joyful mother of children.
The same movement is caught in a single line: He dwells on high, yet looks down that low, and He does it with a purpose.
He is Israel's God who dwells on high, yet looks down so low, but to exalt those He loves, to set them with the princes of His people, and fill the hopeless with joy in their habitation.
The ash heap is not vague poetry. It names a real figure in the lands of the Bible — the man nobody wants — and the God who lifts him is the God of resurrection.
He is Abraham's God, the God of resurrection… The dunghill is an emblem of the deepest poverty and desertion. In Syria and Palestine the man who is shut out from society lies on the mezbele (the dunghill or heap of ashes) by day, calling to the passers-by for alms. By night he hides himself in the ashes, warmed by the sun.
This is not an isolated act of kindness. It is how God works, and it carries a lesson we keep forgetting.
One principle comes before us here. We cannot hear it too often, and we constantly tend to forget it. God chooses weak things, so that it may be clear that good and blessing come from His power and love. God uses means. But when people speak of means, they usually do not mean turning the heart to God, prayer, His word, and the like. They mean leaning on human influence and human strength. This is all evil… Blessing would not be divine blessing at all if it were not so.
Commentators trace the wording of verse 7 back to the song of Hannah. She had no children until God gave her a son. They hear her song taken up again by a whole nation.
In Psalm 113 the despised and persecuted remnant of Israel will echo the language of Hannah in 1 Samuel 2:8… And we may see Hannah's joy at no longer being childless as a picture of the blessing of women in Israel, when the Lord brings His people back from captivity. So the Psalm rightly ends with "Hallelujah."
Verse 7 runs on into verse 8. The gap between where God finds a person and where He seats him is the whole point.
The extremes are enormous! The dust and the dunghill stand in vivid contrast to the throne. And the poor man and the beggar are moved from the one to the other — from real degradation to great dignity and honour. Yet this is how grace chooses to act. If we had to reach that height by our own effort, or earn it by merit, the prospect would dazzle and bewilder us. It would baffle and outrun anything we could imagine.
Commentators also read the verse forward, to what God does now for anyone He saves.
Mary's song, at the beginning of the New Testament, reminds us — could we ever forget it — of one birth that could not have happened unless God stooped down to man. That birth has taken the place of all others for us here. And with it has come, for everyone who receives divine grace now, the promise and the power of a resurrection. By it God raises those more degraded than the dwellers on the dunghill to a higher place than princes! Hallelujah!
God's lift starts in the dust. So admitting we are there is not a barrier to blessing; it is the road into it.
For such a result, it is worth while a thousand times over to go deep down into the dust of repentance. It is worth admitting fully that we are poor beggars, so that grace may raise us, even from there, to the throne of glory.
- Stoops — God's greatness includes His stooping. The One who dwells on high humbles Himself to look down, and His looking ends in lifting.
- Dust — the ash heap pictures an outcast. He begs by day and hides in warm ashes by night: the deepest poverty, the man society has shut out.
- Chooses — God works this way on purpose. He takes up weak things, so the blessing plainly comes from His power and love, not from human strength.
- Lifts — the distance is the marvel: from dust and ash heap to a seat among princes. No effort or merit could ever reach that height.
- Sings — Hannah's song becomes a nation's song, and the psalm ends in praise. The same grace still raises those who admit where they are.
To set [him] among nobles, among the nobles of his people.
Psalm 113 moves from God's height to God's stoop. Verse 8 says where He is taking the person He lifts out of the dust: to a seat among the nobles of His own people. Why does God reach that low, and how far does His lifting go?
The seat in verse 8 is the last step of a movement that starts with God bending down. That stoop is where His greatness shows:
The greatness of the Lord is set forth in His condescending grace. The One whose dwelling is on high humbles Himself to look on the heavens and the earth. And looking upon the earth He raises up the poor; He lifts up the needy; and He blesses the hopeless, for He makes the barren to be the joyful mother of children.
"The dust" and "the dunghill" of the previous verse are not vague poetry. They describe a real place in the ancient world, and a real class of person:
He "raises the exhausted from the dust; He lifts up the needy from the dunghill." The dunghill is "an emblem of the deepest poverty and desertion. In Syria and Palestine the man who is shut out from society lies on the mezbele (the dunghill or heap of ashes). By day he calls to the passers-by for alms, and by night he hides himself in the ashes that the sun has warmed."
The word translated "princes" means more than rank. The same writer then takes the promise further, into resurrection:
Out of this misery and degradation God still lifts a man up. He puts a wretch like this among the nobles (nedibhim; the men of princely generosity) — yes, the nobles of His people... And with this has come the promise and the power of a resurrection for everyone who now receives divine grace. It raises those more degraded than the dwellers on the dunghill to a higher place than princes! Hallelujah!
If God lifted the strong, people would credit the result to strength. So He starts at the bottom:
God chooses weak things, so that it may be evident that good and blessing come from His power and love. God uses means. But when man talks about means, he does not mean turning the heart to God, or prayer, or His word. He means leaning on man's influence and man's strength... Such are God's ways. The heart delights in them.
Two women sang this same theme. Hannah was a wife with no children; Mary was the mother of Jesus:
This is a rich and lofty note of thanksgiving to Jehovah for all that He has done in grace for His people. It uses two striking pictures: raising the poor one out of the dust, and giving the childless woman a home. The songs of Hannah (1 Sam. 2) and of Mary (Luke 1) are akin to this; and they were, in their day, the poor one and the barren wife, and, in a mystery, Jerusalem.
Commentators differ on when this happens. Some read the promise as still ahead, in the nation of Israel's future blessing:
He has humbled Himself so that others might be lifted up — and these are the lowliest of people. They are the poor raised from the dust and the needy from the ash heap, a burned-out existence. And these He has seated with princes (v. 8). Marvellous grace! This will be seen above all in the great blessing Israel will experience in the millennium.
The same road runs through Jacob, the man God renamed Israel. First came the confession:
There must be the fullest confession if we want the blessing. If God is not to hold anything back from us, we must keep nothing back from Him... He learns two lessons here, which we also must learn: his weakness and his sinfulness... Once these two lessons are learned, God can come in and say to him, "Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel." What a change! But so it is: God "raises the poor from the dust... to make them sit with princes, with the princes of his people."
- Stoop. The lifting in verse 8 starts with God stooping to look. His greatness shows in that grace; it is not put aside by it.
- Dust. The starting point is literal: the outcast on the ash heap, begging by day and burrowing into warm ashes by night.
- Seat. The goal is not just relief but rank. God seats the poor among the nobles of His people, and resurrection lifts them higher still.
- Why. God chooses weak things on purpose. Then anyone can see the blessing comes from His power and love, not from human strength.
- Who. Hannah, Mary, Jacob and a restored Israel all sing the same line. The confession of weakness comes first; the new name comes after.
He maketh the barren woman to keep house, [as] a joyful mother of sons. Hallelujah!
Psalm 113 ends with a picture: the God whose glory is above the heavens bends down, and a woman with no children is given a house full of them. Why does the psalm show His greatness this way, and who is this woman?
The psalm moves from God's height above the heavens down to the poor man in the dust, and ends here. One writer names the principle behind that movement.
One principle comes before us here. We can never hear it too often, and we forget it again and again. God chooses weak things, so that it may be clear that good and blessing come from His power and love. … He dwells on high, but humbles Himself to look on the things in heaven and earth. He raises the poor out of the dust, and lifts the needy out of the ash heap to set him with princes, even the princes of His people. He takes the barren woman and gives her children like a flock, and makes her a joyful mother of children. Such are God's ways.
Older translations say God makes the barren woman "keep house." Another rendering of the line shows what that means:
He makes a barren woman dwell in the house, the glad mother of its sons. Praise the LORD.
One commentator applies that home to Israel.
The barren woman will find a home. Israel became barren and desolate through her years of disobedience, but God will restore her to a settled place to live, "the joyous mother of children." The Lord well deserves praise!
Commentators also read the barren woman as Israel herself. One compares her to Naomi, the widow in the book of Ruth who came home empty.
Full deliverance of the nation from the Naomi-state will come at last, and God will keep His ancient promise of redemption: "Your Maker is your husband; the LORD of hosts is his name, and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer… For the LORD has called you like a wife deserted and grieved in spirit" (Isa. 54:5-6). As it was with Naomi, so will it be in a coming day with the repentant daughter of Zion… And the prophetic words of the Psalmist will be fulfilled.
Two women in the Bible sang songs like this one.
It is a rich, high note of thanksgiving to the LORD for all He has done in grace for His people. The songs of Hannah (1 Sam. 2) and of Mary (Luke 1) belong with this one. In their day they were the poor one and the barren wife, and, in a hidden sense, Jerusalem.
Hannah was the childless woman who prayed for a son, and God gave her Samuel. Mary sang her song when she learned she would give birth to Jesus.
The verse ends in praise. One writer explains why, reading the psalm next to the prophet Isaiah.
The apostle quotes Isaiah 54:1: "Rejoice, O barren one who does not bear… For the children of the desolate one will be more than those of the one who has a husband." How well this follows straight after the details of Christ's suffering for us in the chapter before it. We should read the two chapters together, and see the glory that came after those sufferings, when God "gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children." This is a true picture of grace. The law knew nothing of praise… When the barren woman bears a child, she can only break out in praise.
The verse also speaks plainly about children. A commentator applies it to his own day.
It is He, the Lord, who "gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children" (Ps. 113:9). God will show this in Israel in the coming day of her promised increase… "Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward" (Ps. 127:3). I wish more people took this word to heart in this age of ever smaller families.
- Height stoops. God is above the heavens, yet He shows His greatness by bending down. He chooses weak things, so the blessing is plainly His and not man's.
- Emptiness chosen. The dust, the ash heap, and the empty womb do not block His work. They are what He picks up and uses.
- A home given. The gift is a settled home, not just work to do. God places a woman with no standing inside a household as its glad mother.
- A nation pictured. Writers read her as Jerusalem: deserted for a time, then restored. Hannah and Mary sang this song before it came true.
- Praise results. No one earned any of this. That is why the verse ends with "Praise the LORD."