ALEPH. Blessed are the perfect in the way, who walk in the law of Jehovah.
Psalm 119 opens with a verdict, not a request: God calls one way of life blessed. The psalm states that as plain fact before the writer says anything about himself, and the rest of it is the longing of a heart that wants to live that way.
Verses 1–3 work as a headline for everything that follows:
The opening verses present the theme of the whole psalm — the blessedness of those who walk through this world in "the way" marked out by the Lord in His law, who "keep" His testimonies, and seek Him with the whole heart.
The psalm before this one asks God to open the gates of righteousness. Psalm 119 answers who goes through them:
We have read in Psalm 118:19–20, "Open to me the gates of righteousness… This is the gate of the LORD; the righteous shall enter through it." But who are the righteous? Psalm 119 answers that question. It shows what will be true of Israel when God writes the law on their hearts (Jer. 31:33)… Psalms 1, 32, 41, 112 and 128 all begin with this same word blessed… In the first Psalm we read of someone delighting in the law of the LORD. Here we see how completely that can be true.
The Hebrew word that opens the verse is not a single blessing but a heap of them:
The word for "Blessed" in the Hebrew is plural. So it describes the "abundant blessings" that belong to all true believers in Christ: "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places" (Eph. 1:3).
Older translations read "undefiled" or "perfect" here. The word does not describe people who were always like that:
They were not always "perfect". Once they were sinners, every one going his own way, dead in trespasses and sins. But Christ gave Himself as a sacrifice for sin, to redeem sinners from both the guilt and the power of sin… The word "perfect" has the meaning of "blameless, complete, whole, entire, sound".
The verse ties this blessing to a way — a road to walk in. In a world full of dirt, only one road stays clean:
God pronounces this blessedness on "the undefiled in the way." The world is full of defilement. There is only one path in the world… which can be undefiled; that is, God's law… It is the way wholly formed of God's expressed will for man's walk in this world. They "walk in the law of the LORD." There is a delight in what is right, in what is not defiled by sin or the world; but that which is right is found in walking in the law. It is a perfect rule, according to God, in this world for a living man.
(Where older translations print "Jehovah," the ESV reads "the LORD.")
Between Sinai and this psalm the law has not changed. The person has:
At Sinai the law came to men in the flesh, and they loathed it, rebelled against it; in Psalm 119 the writer delights in the law of God. Clearly he has been born again. He tastes ahead of time the blessing Israel will have in a future day, when the Lord will say, "I will put my laws on their hearts, and write them on their minds" (Heb. 10:16).
Christians today can share that delight without going back under law:
Though we are not "under law but under grace," we still delight in it; and 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 has been brought to rejoice in the One who has magnified that law, and who has borne its curse for him upon the tree.
Verse 1 speaks about other people. Then the psalm turns inward:
Notice that the whole Psalm, except the first five verses, is in the singular. The writer first says that the undefiled in the way are blessed, setting out that certain fact as his theme. Then he exclaims: "Oh that my ways may be steadfast in keeping your statutes!"—his personal ways.
- Blessing first. The psalm's opening word is plural in Hebrew — abundant blessings, not just one, resting on all who walk this way.
- Blameless by redemption. Those called blameless were once sinners, each going his own way. Christ's sacrifice makes them whole and sound.
- One clean road. In a dirty world, only God's expressed will marks out a path that stays clean — and the blessed are those who walk it.
- Law inside, not over. At Sinai men met the law from outside and loathed it. Here God writes it inside the heart, and the heart delights in it.
- Verdict becomes prayer. Verse 1 states the blessing as a fact about others. Within a few verses it turns personal — "Oh that my ways may be steadfast."
Blessed are they that observe his testimonies, that seek him with the whole heart;
This verse is the second of the two blessings that open Psalm 119. It ties keeping God's testimonies to seeking God Himself. One writer reads the whole psalm as the answer to a single question: who are the righteous?
But who are the righteous? Psalm 119 answers this question. It shows what will be true of Israel when God writes His law on their hearts (Jeremiah 31:33)… Psalms 1, 32, 41, 112 and 128 open with this same word blessed. In other psalms the title describes the saint in one way or another. This is because God's estimate of people here is very different from the world's. And now in Psalm 119 we learn some of the marks of anyone truly entitled to such a name.
One study looks at the two Hebrew words behind "testimonies" in this psalm:
Verse 2: EDUTH = Testimonies. It is a revelation, or a revealed psalm… The word EDAH = Precept and occurs 14 times, in the plural. It means a testimony, or a repetition, an attestation or witness, a constant witness to Jehovah's will.
One writer draws out what this witness does, and what has to come before keeping:
Remember what we said about this word "testimonies"? It testifies what God is, and it also shows me what I ought to be. Before we can "keep" His testimonies, we must first have received them, accepted them, and be willing to obey.
The verse joins keeping His testimonies to seeking Him. One writer explains why the two cannot be pulled apart:
To have the law written on the heart is not a natural state but a supernatural one, a work of divine grace. And this law is not merely arbitrary, a bare expression of authority. It is also a "testimony," and the awakened conscience responds to it. In it God declares Himself. So to "keep His testimonies" is to "seek Him with their whole heart." For such people everything matches the real nature of things: they do not twist them.
The object of the search is a Person, and that keeps this verse from describing a study habit:
Notice that they seek "Him"; they seek to please Him, to be more like Him. This is not a merely "intellectual" activity, but it is a question of the whole heart being engaged. My heart yearning after Him day by day, all day long. "You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart," is the wonderful promise (Jeremiah 29:13).
The phrase "whole heart" returns again and again through the psalm. One writer makes that repetition his point:
You should earnestly seek to be whole-hearted in your Christian life and testimony. Notice how many times the phrase "whole heart" occurs in Psalm 119. It carries the thought that thoroughness must mark all who have to do with God. This was true above all in the Man, Christ Jesus. He could say, in the fullest sense of the words, "Zeal for your house has consumed me." He was consumed with the desire to do the will of the Father Who sent Him.
Seeking Him with the whole heart shows itself in what a person does:
This connects itself with the desire after Himself. They seek Him with the whole heart. This is the general character of the effect of the law written in the heart. The practical effect is plain: they "do no iniquity." The heart is set right in purity, and they also do no evil, no wrong towards others. Instead of their own will and defiance towards God, "they walk in His ways." The heart recognises God's authority and accepts it with diligence, and the heart's desires go out towards it.
One writer traces this whole-hearted state back to the new birth:
They walk in the way of the Lord's law — not the ten commandments, but as the New Testament tells us, "the law of liberty" (James 2:12), which involves the new birth. Only those born again will keep His testimonies, seeking the Lord with their whole heart (v. 2). They respond willingly to His commandment to keep His precepts diligently, not giving in to iniquity, but choosing God's ways (vv. 3-4).
- Whole word. "Testimonies" means a constant witness to God's will — a revelation that shows what God is and what I ought to be.
- Whole reception. We must first receive God's testimonies and accept them, ready to obey, before we can keep them.
- Whole Person. Because God declares Himself in His testimonies, keeping them and seeking Him are one act, not two.
- Whole heart. The phrase "whole heart" runs through the psalm as its measure. Thoroughness marks everyone who has to do with God.
- Whole life. The heart set on Him does no iniquity and walks in His ways — a condition that comes not by nature but by new birth.
Who also do no unrighteousness they walk in his ways.
The third verse completes the psalm's opening portrait: first what these people refuse to do, then where they go. Is this a claim to sinless living, and how does anyone come to fit the description?
Verse 3 is not a separate thought. It closes one opening statement that sets the theme for everything that follows.
(vv. 1-3) The opening verses present the theme of the whole psalm — the blessedness of those who walk through this world in "the way" marked out by the Lord in His law, who "keep" His testimonies, and seek Him with the whole heart.
The ESV says "do no wrong"; older translations say "do no iniquity". One writer describes it as twisting things out of shape — a person taking his own way instead of God's.
The "way" for man is simply the way of Jehovah's law; and "happiness" is to be perfect in it. How blessed it is just to have the settled awareness in the soul that this alone is happiness. To be delivered from the misery of one's own will, one's own way — the very definition of sin (Isa. 53:6) — what a complete deliverance that is! ... With such people everything matches the real nature of things. They do not twist it: "they practise no perversity; they walk in His ways." His ways must be safe, holy, and happy.
Nobody is like this by nature. The same writer traces the psalm back to a heart God Himself has changed.
When God writes His law on the heart, the people He speaks of will have hearts that never forget what He has commanded. This is certainly 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." Psalm 119 is the fervent expression of a heart so blessed.
One writer traces both halves of the verse to one root: a desire for God Himself. Self-will goes, and God's authority takes its place.
This connects with the desire for God Himself. They seek Him with the whole heart. This is the general character of the effect of the law written in the heart. The practical effect is clear: they "do no iniquity." Their heart is not only morally right and undefiled; they also do no evil or unrighteousness — no wrong to others. Instead of following their own will and scoffing at God, "they walk in His ways." The heart recognises God's authority, accepts it diligently, and desires it.
Read of a believer today, the first half describes character, not a flawless record.
Negative: "… they … do no iniquity …" As they "keep" His testimonies, and seek the Lord with their whole heart, staying close to Him, they do not sin. It is not characteristic of a true Christian that he practises sin. Instead, an act of sin in a believer's life counts as an "accident", completely unlike his position. "… if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous …" (1 John 3:9; 1 John 2:1).
The second half fills in what the first leaves empty. The ways belong to a Person, and walking in them means walking with Him.
Positive: "… they walk in His ways." They walk with Him, and in His strength. He is the "way" in which they walk; like Him. "Whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked" (1 John 2:6). Our "walk" shows the effect of "abiding" in Him.
Commentators differ over how far this psalm's words are the Christian's own. One writer draws the line carefully.
We see then that the form of this psalm cannot apply to the Christian. He never expects to be completely forsaken. In one particular case he may apply this, when he knows he has followed his own will. But the general principle teaches us much, because it shows what God works in the heart to shape its moral character.
- Heart first. The walk of verse 3 starts inside. God's law written on the heart produces a life that refuses wrong.
- Will surrendered. Going your own way is the very definition of sin, and freedom from it is a deliverance, not a loss.
- Grace, not nature. A heart with God's law written on it is not natural to anyone; it belongs to those whose sins He remembers no more.
- Two sides, one walk. The negative side ("no wrong") describes character, not a flawless record. The positive side ("His ways") means walking with Him and like Him.
- Read with care. Its moral principle teaches every believer. Writers differ on how far its exact words are the Christian's own.
Thou hast enjoined thy precepts, to be kept diligently.
The psalm has just described the people who are blessed as they walk in the Lord's way. Now the writer speaks straight to God, and the first thing he says is that God has given commands — and expects them kept.
The verse starts with God, and what He gives is not advice.
There is first of all complete submission. Remember what a "commandment" is: an order given by God with full authority. Whether to Adam or to Noah, they had to submit. Adam did not, but Noah did submit. Are we willing to submit our will to His will? This submission is not imposed upon us, we are not forced to submit to our Lord Jesus! That would be the obedience of a slave. No, it is because we love Him that we willingly and gladly submit to Him.
Psalm 119 uses many different words for God's word. What does "precepts" add?
Verse 4: PIK-KOO-DEEM = Precepts (or Commandments). It occurs 21 times through the psalm (always in the plural). It means a charge given to us by God for which we are responsible, "to place in trust", or "to take oversight".
Others put it the same way, listing "precepts" among the psalm's ten terms as "the law as a charge upon man" — the word coming twenty-one times through the psalm.
The last word of the verse settles how much God asks.
The verse continues: "…to be kept diligently." There is nothing superficial about this submission! It is not a partial submission, but complete. There is no reserve, no holding back part, no hesitation, but a glad and whole-hearted surrender.
That raises a question. May we keep the commands that suit us and leave the rest?
We must not pick and choose. We tend to take up the commandments and precepts that suit us, but this is really self-will. What right do we have to select some precepts from the word and neglect others? None at all. To do so is, in principle, simply self-will and rebellion. What business has a servant to decide which of his master's commands he will obey? Surely, none at all. Every commandment carries the master's authority, so it has a claim on the servant's attention. And we may add: the more fully a servant obeys, giving respectful attention to every one of his master's commands, however small, the more he strengthens his position and grows in his master's confidence and esteem.
Does grace lower what God asks?
"You have commanded Your precepts" — the separate applications of God's principles — "to be kept diligently." God does not speak in plain, definite terms and then put up with us treating His words lightly. And that is not in the least what grace means. Nothing God has spoken is unimportant. Obedience is always what matters, and an obedience we can set limits on claims for us a wisdom higher than God's.
Being loved by God and being under His authority are not rivals.
But the God whose sons we are is holy, and demands in His children obedience. He would have us recognise His authority. If we stand in His grace, we are also under His government. We are just as much the subjects of His kingdom as we are the objects of His favour. We are as much His servants under His control as we are His sons in liberty… Knowing that I am His son makes me cry, "Abba, Father." Knowing that I am under Him makes me say, "Lord, what do You want me to do?"
A command can be kept out of fear of punishment. Is that Christian obedience?
It is not Christian to obey Christ merely because we must. Christ never obeyed like that. If someone only does a thing because he knows he will be punished if he does not, that shows his heart is not in it — he does not want to obey. Christian obedience is wanting to do a thing because it is the will of God. The Holy Spirit gives us the power for that by setting Christ before our hearts.
That changes how God's law feels to the one obeying — "no longer condemnation and the threat of death, but perfect delight and liberty."
- Commanded — the verse opens with God. A commandment is an order, so the fitting answer is to bow my will to His.
- Charged — "precepts" means something placed in my trust. God makes me responsible for it, not just informed about it.
- Completely — "diligently" leaves no room for reserve, hesitation, or holding part back.
- Consistently — picking the commands that suit us is self-will in disguise. Every command carries the Master's own authority.
- Cheerfully — grace never lowers the claim, but it changes the motive. Obedience becomes desire, and the law becomes delight.
Oh that my ways were directed to keep thy statutes!
The verse before speaks of God's command to keep His precepts, and this verse is the heart's answer — not a promise to perform, but a sigh. It asks who steadies a life, and why the psalmist prays about his ways and not just his good intentions.
The verse opens with a wish, not a claim. One writer hears a prayer in that sigh, and explains what a "statute" is:
Then there is a complete giving up of self. This is a prayer! It is the deep longing of the heart expressed in a sigh! There is a deep sense of complete weakness, and of our own inability to do anything that is pleasing and acceptable to God. Here is a cry for aid, for help, for power! Surely the Lord hears such a sigh! Surely the Holy Spirit will direct you and me to "keep Your statutes," to do His will and not our own! A "statute" is a direction from God to secure our obedience, or to stop disobedience.
Older translations read, "Oh that my ways were directed to keep your statutes!" The prayer is not for clearer light on what is right. It is for the actual living of it — and that is where dependence begins.
"Oh that my ways were directed." This is not only seeing God's ways — what the heart approves as right in itself. It is the desire that the actual course of life be ordered to keep God's statutes; our will is not satisfied, but turned towards God's. Here a man feels his dependence about the course of his life, and longs for it to be directed.
This verse holds two things together. God has the right to command, and the man who wants to obey knows he has no strength of his own.
With the blessedness of God's way before his soul, the psalmist turns to God in prayer. He admits God's authority to "command," and our responsibility "to keep" His precepts. He also longs to meet that responsibility. Aware of human weakness, the godly man looks to God to direct his ways, so that he may keep God's statutes (v. 5).
A wish to be ruled by God's law sounds strange if the law is only a burden. One writer sets this psalm beside Mount Sinai, where the law was first given:
How different is the spirit of Psalm 119. At Sinai the law came to men in the flesh, and they loathed it and rebelled against it; in Psalm 119 the writer delights in the law of God. Clearly he has been born again.
The same writer notes that one of the psalm's words for the law, derek, means a trodden path — here it is "not the law of bondage, condemnation and death, but the trodden path of delight that the renewed man longs to take."
The cry has a result attached to it. One writer follows the line from the cry, through a conscience free from shame, to praise.
It is we who need to be taught wisdom. So the heart cries out: "Oh that my ways" — my goings in the path — "may be directed to keep Your statutes: then I shall not be ashamed when I have respect to all Your commandments." And it looks ahead to His judgments — His decisions in the court of conscience. These so approve His righteousness that learning them will produce a spirit of praise in an upright heart.
Not every phrase in this section transfers unchanged to the Christian. One writer explains why:
It was a time when Israel had gone wrong. So here there is a special looking to God not to give them up completely. We see that the form of this psalm cannot apply to the Christian. He never expects to be completely forsaken. In a particular course of action he may apply it, when he knows he has followed his own will. But from the general principle we may learn much, as to what is worked in the heart regarding its moral disposition.
- Command — God commands, and this verse admits both His right to command and our responsibility to keep His precepts.
- Weakness — the "Oh that!" is a sigh, born of a deep sense that we are unable of ourselves to do anything pleasing to God.
- Directed — the prayer is not for a clearer view of God's way, but that the daily course of life be shaped by it. Here a man feels his dependence.
- Delight — men in the flesh loathed the law at Sinai, but the psalmist delights in it; he has been born again.
- Praise — a directed walk leaves a conscience with nothing to be ashamed of, and praise rises from an upright heart.
Then shall I not be ashamed, when I have respect unto all thy commandments.
The verse turns on one small word: "then." It answers the prayer just before it, promising a conscience free of shame — but only to someone who keeps all God's commandments in view, not a favourite few.
The confidence here is not a beginner's optimism. One writer reads it as the conclusion of a man who has already tried the alternative and failed. He quotes an older wording, "respect" for all the Lord's commandments, where the ESV says "having my eyes fixed on all your commandments":
Here is complete confidence. "Then" — it follows! He has learned from experience. He has learned from past mistakes. He has learned that he will not be ashamed, when he has "respect" for all the Lord's commandments! He says, in effect: "Yes, looking back I am ashamed of those times when I acted in self-confidence and in my own strength and wisdom, and failed miserably. But now I have learned not to have this self-confidence, but to have complete confidence in the Lord."
The shame the psalmist dreads is not embarrassment in front of people. It is the verdict of his own conscience. It comes from standing outside a way that comes whole or not at all:
Shame does not come from people's disapproval. It comes from a conscience that is not good according to God's revealed will. But this way is complete, and it is the only one. Whatever is outside it is not clean — it is the world, which God hates. We must be in it in will, heart, and way. Otherwise we are out of it, and so ashamed — if the will of the heart is right. If my mind and soul have discerned the excellence of God's way, then my conscience makes me ashamed when I am out of it in every respect.
The clear conscience of verse 6 is not self-produced. It rests on the prayer of verse 5, where a man who knows he cannot manage asks God to steer his steps:
The blessedness of God's way is before his soul, so the psalmist turns to God in prayer. He admits God's authority to "command," and our responsibility "to keep" His precepts. He also longs for this responsibility to be met. Aware of human weakness, the godly man looks to God to direct his ways, so that he may keep God's statutes (v. 5). Walking this way, he keeps a good conscience (v. 6). When the conscience is good, praise flows, not from formal lips, but from an upright heart (v. 7).
The reason is not arbitrary. God's whole will fits what we actually need:
We must learn not to pick and choose when it comes to the Lord's will for us. All His ways are blessedness and peace, all His will is good and acceptable and perfectly suited to our needs.
Selective obedience does more than leave gaps. It quietly produces a different book from the one God gave:
We are called to obey God's word as a whole — "All My law" — not just the part of it we prize most. When a believer follows only his favourite lines of truth, he is not strong and very courageous in obeying the whole of God's word. Some believers have selected certain portions of God's word for their obedience, the ones most agreeable to them, and so have in effect built a revised Bible!
An unashamed conscience does not stay silent. Learning what God judges to be right turns into praise:
No — it is we who need to be taught wisdom. So the heart cries out: "Oh that my ways" — my steps in the path — "may be directed to keep Your statutes: then I shall not be ashamed when I have respect for all Your commandments." The heart also foresees that His judgments — His decisions in the court of conscience — will so approve His righteousness that learning them will produce a spirit of praise in an upright heart.
Does this psalm apply directly to a Christian? One writer says its form does not fit a believer's position, though its moral lesson still holds:
We see, then, that the form of this psalm cannot apply to the Christian. He never expects to be utterly forsaken; in a particular course he may apply this, when he is conscious of having followed his own will. But from the general principle we may learn much, as to what is worked in the heart regarding its moral disposition.
- Then. This confidence comes from hindsight. The psalmist remembers how self-confidence failed him, and now leans on the Lord.
- Shame. He does not fear people's disapproval. He fears a conscience that cannot agree with God's revealed will.
- All. God's way is complete, and it is the only one. Picking and choosing among His commands builds a revised Bible of our own.
- Directed. He asks for the clear conscience before he claims it. Verse 5 confesses weakness, and that prayer opens the way to verse 6.
- Praise. A conscience with nothing to hide does not stay quiet. Learn God's judgments, and they come back out as thanksgiving from an upright heart.
I will give thee thanks with uprightness of heart, when I shall have learned thy righteous judgments.
Verse 7 makes praise the result of learning. That raises two questions: what are God's "righteous rules," and what makes a heart "upright"?
The opening eight verses of Psalm 119 move from blessing to prayer. One writer traces the steps:
With the blessedness of God's way before his soul, the psalmist turns to God in prayer. He admits God's authority to "command," and our responsibility "to keep" His precepts. There is also a longing desire to meet that responsibility. Aware of human weakness, the godly man looks to God to direct his ways, so that he may keep God's statutes (v. 5). Walking this way, he keeps a good conscience (v. 6). And when the conscience is good, praise flows, not from formal lips, but from an upright heart (v. 7).
One writer defines the phrase, and contrasts God's way of judging with ours:
The judgments of His righteousness are the decisions He makes about right and wrong. They express and carry out the righteous character of God. We have much to learn about His "judgments." We must learn that He always judges righteously — never on a whim, and never with prejudice, as men judge. We must learn from Him now on earth how to judge as He does. Then later, when we reign with Him a thousand years, we shall be able to put into practice what we have learned. Whatever He thinks best is good and right, even when He must discipline as a tender and compassionate Father. One day we shall stand before His judgment seat to be rewarded, and there we shall praise Him with uprightness of heart for all His righteous judgments.
The praise comes because the psalmist has learned God's rulings. One writer traces the cry of verse 5 through to the praise of verse 7:
It is we who need to be taught wisdom. So the heart cries out, "Oh that my ways" — my walking in the path — "may be steadfast in keeping your statutes! Then I shall not be put to shame, having my eyes fixed on all your commandments." And it looks ahead: His judgments — His decisions in the court of conscience — so approve His righteousness that learning them produces a spirit of praise in an upright heart.
The phrase "upright heart" rules something out:
Real, deep desire is clear in verse 5, "Oh that my ways may be steadfast in keeping your statutes!" If so, the psalmist would not be ashamed when he looked at all God's commandments. Instead he would praise the Lord, not in mere ritual, but in uprightness of heart, gladly learning God's righteous judgments (v. 7). So he has a settled purpose: "I will keep your statutes."
This praise is not a one-off. The same note runs through the whole psalm:
Psalm 119 has 176 verses, and no fewer than 174 of them mention the law of God under different names — law, commandments, precepts, testimonies, judgments, statutes, ordinances, word, way, path. Whatever name the law goes by, it is no longer condemnation and death threatening, but perfect delight and liberty. The writer bursts out, "My soul is consumed with longing for your rules at all times" (v. 20) — "Seven times a day I praise you for your righteous rules" (v. 164).
How far can a Christian make these words his own? One writer answers from the setting of the psalm:
But it was a time when Israel had erred. So here there is a special looking to God not to give them up completely. We see from this that the form of this psalm cannot apply to the Christian. He never expects to be completely forsaken. He may apply it in a particular case, when he knows he has followed his own will. But we can learn much from the general principle, as what is worked in the heart about its moral disposition. Verses 1-8.
- Learn — God's righteous rules are His decisions about right and wrong. He never judges on a whim and never with bias, and we are to learn from Him now.
- Conscience — those decisions are learned in the court of conscience. A good conscience is what opens the mouth in praise.
- Uprightness — the praise here is not ritual or formal lips. It rises from a heart that agrees with what it has learned.
- Practise — learning how God judges now is training for reigning with Him later.
- Overflow — one verse of thanks becomes a whole psalm of it. By verse 164 the same righteous rules draw praise seven times a day.
I will keep thy statutes forsake me not utterly.
This verse closes the psalm's opening section of eight verses. It holds two things together: a firm promise to keep God's statutes, and a plea that God will not abandon the man making it. Why does a promise end in a plea? And can someone who has already failed still say "I will keep"?
The confidence in the first half of the verse is not self-confidence. It follows two things: the psalmist has thrown himself on God, and he remembers how he has failed before.
Having cast himself upon God, the psalmist can say with confidence, "I will keep Your statutes," though recognizing past failure, which leads to the cry, "do not utterly forsake me!"
One writer defines both key words of the promise. He also shows where the strength to keep it comes from.
"I will keep Your statutes…" is what the Psalmist said he would do. "Keeping" means to observe and put into practice. His "statutes" are His directions, given to get our obedience. "If you love me, you will keep my commandments," the Lord Jesus said (John 14:15)… So God provides what we need to do what He asks. All this will keep us humble. We realize that by ourselves we can do nothing, as the Lord Jesus said: "…apart from me you can do nothing" (John 15:5).
(The writer quoted John 14:15 from an older translation, where it reads as a command: "keep My commandments.")
The second half of the verse speaks to God as the one who governs. It asks Him to stay near a man whose heart is already set on His statutes.
The last verse is an appeal to divine government not to go far away from one who had in heart to keep the divine statutes.
The two halves of the verse fit together. Because the purpose in the first line is real, what is feared in the second line cannot happen.
Thus he has firm purpose, "I will keep Your statutes." If so, it is impossible that God would forsake him utterly (v. 8).
The prayer comes from a time when Israel had gone wrong. That background changes how far a Christian today can make the words his own.
Another part of this state of heart is a full will and purpose to obey and keep what God has ordered or appointed. It is what carries God's authority, not simply what is morally right or wrong. But this was a time when Israel had gone wrong. So here there is a special looking to God, asking Him not to give them up completely. We see then that the form of this psalm cannot apply to the Christian. He never expects to be completely forsaken. He may use these words about some path he has taken, when he knows he has followed his own will. But we can learn much from the general principle — what God works in the heart to shape its moral character.
Commentators differ on how far a Christian can pray these words. One writer says the fear behind the plea is already settled for a believer, and yet the prayer still has its use.
The Psalmist finishes this first section of eight verses with a prayer: "do not utterly forsake me!" But we who believe now, in this time of grace, have no reason to think that the Lord will ever abandon us. The Holy Spirit will not leave us and will not be taken from us, for He remains with us forever (John 14:16). This should not make us careless. It should encourage us to keep going with this constant prayer: "Lord Jesus, keep me close to Yourself."
- Kept — the promise. To keep God's statutes means to observe them and put them into practice. His statutes are His directions, given to get our obedience.
- Kept — by grace. The psalmist makes this promise after casting himself on God and admitting past failure. It rests on God's provision, not willpower — apart from Christ we can do nothing.
- Kept — the plea. The closing cry asks God's government not to go far away from a heart already set on His statutes.
- Kept — the certainty. Where that firm purpose is real, God will not forsake him utterly. The two halves of the verse answer each other.
- Kept — forever. A Christian never expects to be forsaken, because the Spirit stays with us forever. We use these words when we know we have followed our own will. The safe prayer is still this: "Lord Jesus, keep me close to Yourself."
BETH. Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his path? by taking heed according to thy word.
The psalmist asks how a young man can keep his life clean in a dirty world. His answer is God's word — read, taken to heart, and obeyed.
The question comes from someone who has tried to walk well and feels the world sticking to him:
Here is a soul with a question! He has tried to walk in a way that pleases the Lord, but he feels the defiling influences of the world around him. There has been defilement in thought and imagination. Some believers suffer from unclean thoughts or unclean suggestions from the enemy. This young man had known that kind of defilement. Now he asks the question: "With what" shall I cleanse my way, my heart, my thought life? This verse gives us the first wonderful fact about the Word: it purifies.
The verse is not about how a sinner's guilt is removed. It is about the daily upkeep of a walk:
The young man is mentioned here because a believer needs this vital instruction at the very start of his path. The subject here is not the cleansing of his sins, but the practical cleansing of his path. Only the blood of Christ cleanses sins, and God does that work for the believer. But the believer is responsible to cleanse his path. This means a daily, practical separation from evil principles. The means of this is clear: it is the Word of God taken to heart that enables one to act with such effect.
These two cleansings are easy to confuse. One happened once; the other we need every day:
The Word of God is that which has cleansing power for the believer. Bear in mind that we are not now speaking of that cleansing which, as guilty sinners, we get when we come to Christ. At that time we were cleansed in a very different way, even by the precious blood of Christ. But as believers we need the continuous washing, not of blood, but of "water by the word."
The answer is something the believer does, not something he owns:
First, by watchful care to bring all his ways under the searchlight of God's Word.
The blessing comes with reading, and with obeying:
There is a blessing where Scripture is read and in particular where it is obeyed. … We say to the little ones, we need to say it to each other, "read your Bible, pray every day." Now we can say there is a purifying effect from the reading of Holy Scripture.
Satan aims at the young first, but the counsel reaches every age:
In a world where Satan is very active to deceive believers, the young Christian is his special target. So the question the psalmist asked himself matters as much today as in his day. How can a young man — or a young woman — lead a holy and pure life in unholy, sin-stained surroundings? The answer of Scripture is short but enough: by taking heed according to your word. We live in a world where standards and values are changing at an ever-increasing speed. … whether young or old, we need to measure everything by God's plumb line — His Word. That is how we become overcomers in this anti-Christian or post-Christian world.
The cleansing reaches inward as well as outward:
Purity. Perhaps sexual purity is the most obvious example of this. These words speak especially to young men. But let's not suppose that any of us, whatever our age or gender, is safe from the dangers. The word is clear. And of course purity involves not just what we do, but what goes on in our minds too.
Our ways can be pictured as clothing — what touches us, and what others see us wearing:
The clothes stand for what touches us — our associations, what we have dealings with, what the world around us sees us connected with. Perhaps people have often seen us in the gambling halls, or in other evil places. All these associations and ways must be "washed."
- Defilement — a believer who wants to please God feels the world's dirt on his thoughts and his path.
- Distinction — the blood of Christ cleansed our guilt once; the walk needs the daily washing of water by the word.
- Direction — guarding your way means bringing it under the searchlight of Scripture: read it, then obey it.
- Reach — the enemy aims at the young first. Every age needs the same plumb line, in the mind as well as outside it.
- Result — a clean path through an unclean world, as the word washes our habits, company and reputation.
With my whole heart have I sought thee let me not wander from thy commandments.
This verse holds two things together: a claim and a prayer. The psalmist says he has sought God with his whole heart. In the same breath he asks God to keep him from straying. Why does an honest heart still need to pray like that?
The first half of the verse does not say he sought rules. He sought God Himself. One writer explains what a whole heart means here, and why the prayer follows from it.
Here He is "sought with the whole heart"; no guile, but the true desire of the heart towards God. God's commandments are precious, because they make His will known. So the heart that truly seeks Him prays that He will not let it wander from them. The heart looks to God as good, for when He is truly sought there is always some sense of His goodness. That is what distinguishes conversion from mere terror of conscience: desire towards Him, and a sense of goodness in God.
If the seeking takes the whole heart, you cannot squeeze it in. One writer presses this, and notes that the second half of the verse turns into prayer.
This verse shows us that the Word keeps the believer from wandering from the path of obedience. "With my whole heart I seek you…" We have to be in earnest about it! To rush in and out of the Lord's presence for a little reading and prayer is not what we could properly call a "quiet time." We must take time to be holy. Notice that the second half of this verse is a prayer: "…let me not wander…" We have a prayer in verses 5 and 8, and in this verse too. Prayer and Bible study go hand in hand.
David spoke this way in other psalms too. One writer sets that against a religion that is correct but cold.
Whole-heartedness is surely due to such a God as ours! "I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart" (Psalm 9:1), "With my whole heart I seek you" (Psalm 119:10), "With my whole heart I cry; answer me, O LORD!" (Psalm 119:145). This is how David loved to speak to his God. Lord, save us all from dead, decent formality in divine things; give us David's spirit.
The prayer in the second half admits something the first half cannot supply. Good intentions are real, but they are not a guarantee.
He also casts himself upon the power of God, so that God will keep him from wandering into paths of his own lust and will. He knows he is weak. He knows that right and honest desires will not in themselves keep him in the path of blessing. So he casts himself with his whole heart upon God (v. 10).
One writer asks why the psalm speaks of a young man.
The young man is spoken of, no doubt, because life is strong in him, and the untried world is full of natural attraction… Seeking Him with the whole heart, the soul still has to pray, "Let me not wander."
sentence distorts source ("here" = the world); grade-29 sentence; duplicates Smith's point
One writer explains the verb behind the word "wander."
The verb is "to err," as in Psalm 119:10, 21, 118 and Leviticus 4:13 — to sin through ignorance.
One writer asks how that prayer is answered, and points to the next verse.
The newborn soul can rightly claim that with his whole heart he has sought the Lord. In keeping with this, he earnestly prays, "let me not wander from your commandments!" (v. 10). How does this happen? By hiding God's Word in his heart. How good indeed to learn verses of Scripture, not merely by memory, but by heart! This will certainly preserve us from sinning against God (v. 11).
- Sought — the whole heart goes after God Himself, and where He is truly sought there is always some sense of His goodness.
- Slowly — you cannot rush whole-hearted seeking; a hurried visit to the Lord's presence is not really a quiet time.
- Straying — the verb behind "wander" means to err, the word used for sinning through ignorance. It covers drifting, not only defiance.
- Strength — honest desires will not by themselves keep anyone in the path, so the seeker casts himself on God's power.
- Stored — God answers the prayer as we hide His Word in the heart, learning it by heart and not merely by memory.
Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I might not sin against thee.
Psalm 119 turns, again and again, on one subject: the word of God. Verse 11 answers a personal question: where does that word belong? Not on a shelf, but inside a person — and it works once it is there.
The verse does not say he read the word, or repeated it, or admired it. It says he put it somewhere. One writer draws out how much rests on that single detail:
It was not the Bible in his hand to read it, or the word on his tongue to speak of it. It was hiding it in his heart that he found effective against sin.
Inside, the word is safe — and it needs to be. One writer describes people who took God's message in as treasure:
They took it into their knowledge and intelligence, took it into their heart as an invaluable treasure. "I have stored up your word in my heart." That is the right place for it; it is safe there. We need to be on our guard. The birds of the air in the Parable of the Sower stand for real evil spirits. They hover around us, seeking to rob us of the treasure we have received.
"Stored up" sounds like memory work. One writer says that is not deep enough:
The Word of God should not only be a check on our thoughts. It should be their source, which is far deeper. We see it in Christ, the only perfect One. He alone could say, "By the word of your lips I have kept myself from the ways of the violent." "I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you." The Word has a preserving power that keeps the feet from sliding. Only those who receive the truth in the love of 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, separating us from all defilement. Otherwise we cannot experience its preserving power.
Another writer makes the same distinction with a memorable turn of phrase, and ties the verse back to the prayer that comes just before it:
The new born soul can rightly claim that with his whole heart he has sought the Lord; and consistently with this, he earnestly prays, "Oh let me not wander from Your commandments" (v. 10). How is this to be accomplished? By the individual's hiding God's Word in his heart. How good indeed to learn the verses of scripture, not merely by memory, but by heart!
One writer reads verse 11 as a further step, taken after the prayer of verse 10:
Second, by casting himself on the power of God, so that God keeps him from wandering into paths of his own lust and will. He knows his weakness. He knows that right and honest desires will not by themselves keep him in the path of blessing. So he casts himself on God with all his heart (v. 10).
Third, by hiding the Word in his heart, which keeps him from sinning against God in secret.
The stored word is for use. One writer points to the pattern:
God's word is a protector from sin — if hidden in the heart. Read, taken seriously, meditated on, remembered — all are involved in hiding it in the heart. Again this takes time, but it helps to protect us from sin. The Lord Jesus is the perfect example of using God's word when under temptation. For each of Satan's temptations He answered with the right scripture. He knew the scriptures, of course, but He also understood how to apply them, and which verses were right for which situation. How vitally important it is that we hide the word in our hearts; there is no better protector from sinning.
One writer sets this verse beside a later line in the same psalm, which says God's word is settled in heaven:
These are golden sentences for the present moment. They set forth the true place for the Word — "settled in heaven" and "hidden in the heart." That is not all. They also link the heart to the very throne of God through His own Word. This gives the Christian all the stability and all the moral security that the divine Word can give.
- Place — the word in the hand or on the tongue did not keep the psalmist; the word hidden in the heart did.
- Treasure — the heart keeps the word safe, but it needs guarding. Evil spirits seek to rob us of the treasure we received.
- Depth — memory alone has no preserving power. The truth must act on heart and conscience, and become the source of our thoughts, not just a check on them.
- Weapon — Jesus answered each temptation with the right scripture. He knew the words, and He knew where they fit.
- Anchor — settled in heaven, hidden in the heart. The same word ties the believer to God's throne and holds him steady.
Blessed art thou, Jehovah! teach me thy statutes.
Two things stand together in this short verse: a word of praise to God, and a request to be taught by Him. Why bless God before asking Him for anything? And what does it mean to be taught "statutes" by God Himself?
Commentators trace a progression through the verses around this one. This verse is the fourth step in it.
Fourth, by owning the blessedness of the Lord and thus in confidence looking to be taught of the Lord (v. 12).
Notice the order. The confidence to ask comes from first owning who God is.
The prayer is short, but it contains an honest confession. Asking to be taught means admitting you have not yet learned.
But now we see the heart in the presence and under the control of God: "Blessed are You, Jehovah." The heart turns to Him with its awareness of its own ignorance and its yearning desire — "teach me Your statutes."
The praise and the plea are not two moods. They belong to one heart that has come under God's control. ("Jehovah" is the personal name of God, printed as LORD in the ESV.)
One writer sets these words inside real trouble. There, what God is becomes the psalmist's rest.
The heart owns the blessedness of Jehovah Himself, known in His ways, His goodness, His mercy that endures forever. There, in the middle of its distress, the renewed heart finds its resource and its rest. "Blessed are You, O Jehovah." This makes the heart look for what He has decreed and ordained, and for divine teaching in it. This looking at God gives courage, and an inner sense of integrity and faithfulness.
Looking at God has two effects. It makes a person want what God has decreed, and it makes a person brave.
Who answers this prayer, and what is a statute? One writer gives both answers.
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher, and through the instruments that grace uses He can teach us the will of God (John 14:26). So let us echo the psalmist's prayer to the Lord: "…teach me Your statutes." And let us remember what a statute means: "a divine direction to bring about our obedience, and to keep us from disobedience."
So the prayer asks for more than information. A statute aims at obedience, and it guards the learner from disobedience.
The verse speaks to God, not about Him. One writer marks what sets that apart from telling others what God is.
We owe it to God to declare what He is. He ought to be known, and what He is ought to be acknowledged. Praise is different in that we speak our sense of what He is to Him.
The answered prayer does not stop with the one who prayed. The next verse opens his mouth toward other people.
Such simple, clear facts move the heart also to bless the Lord, who can be relied on to teach His statutes. This being so, our lips are also opened to witness to others, declaring all the judgments of God's mouth (v. 13).
The same movement runs across the whole psalm.
Praise and testimony can only flow from a soul that is taught of God. So the psalmist says, "My lips will pour forth praise, for you teach me your statutes." At once he adds, "My tongue will sing of your word." The psalm opens with prayer, continues in praise, and leads to testimony. This is always the divine order.
- Blessing first. The verse owns who God is before it asks for anything. Praise is spoken to God Himself, and it gives the asking its confidence.
- Blessing gives courage. Owning God's blessedness makes the heart want what He has decreed. It also steadies the heart in the middle of distress.
- Blessing exposes ignorance. The same heart that praises admits it has not yet learned, and turns to God with that yearning desire.
- Blessing seeks obedience. A statute is God's direction to bring about obedience and keep the learner from disobedience. The Holy Spirit is the Teacher who gives it.
- Blessing ends in speech. God will teach the one who asks. The taught soul does not stay silent: prayer, then praise, then testimony to others.
With my lips have I declared all the judgments of thy mouth.
This section asks how a young man can keep his way clean, then answers step by step. Here the answer turns outward: what the heart has taken in, the lips now speak.
The ESV calls them "rules." Older translations say "judgments." The Hebrew word behind both is exact:
MISH-PAHT = Judgment. The word occurs 23 times in the psalm… It means the sentence of a judge, and above all a sentence that imposes a penalty. It is therefore a judicial sentence, a decision the Lord makes.
So these are the Lord's own decisions, not the psalmist's opinions.
The order of the section matters. Verses 9 to 12 deal with a man's own path; only after that does his mouth open.
(vv. 13-16) The young man's way has been cleansed, so now he can bear testimony to others (v. 13). It comes from a heart that enjoys God's testimonies (v. 14), meditates on them (v. 15), delights in them, and keeps them in mind (v. 16).
The verse just before this one asked God for teaching. We speak only after God has taught us:
"With my lips I declare …", the verse begins. The believer may speak in "living echoes of His words …", but the Lord must first be able to speak to us, before we can tell others what He has told us. Before the Lord Jesus can send us out "to preach" He calls us first to "be with Him" (Mark 3:14). Perhaps it is good to ask ourselves: "What do I use my lips for?" Surely not for gossip? How we need to pray daily: "keep watch over the door of my lips" (Psalm 141:3; Job 27:4).
One small word carries this verse: "all." The psalmist declares everything God has said, not a selection:
Service flows from confidence in God and from knowing how blessed He is, with the value we place on what God has given… Perceiving divine things, with power and value for them, is what makes us declare them. It is glorifying God. Love to others may go with this, but it is another thing. We owe it to God to declare what He is. He ought to be known, and what He is ought to be acknowledged. Then we hold nothing back: "all the judgments of Your mouth." We are filled with what God is, and with its value, and we speak it out. We may be wise for others' sake, but we value God enough to declare Him fully.
Verse 9 asked how a young man keeps his way clean. Open confession is part of the answer, and holding back carries a cost:
He has already been speaking of what he knew. He declared God's judgments — the decisions God had given about good and evil, right and wrong — and he did it faithfully, holding nothing back. What a great help this is for keeping a clean path: confessing God in all things, and committing yourself fully to all that He has made known of Himself. Indecision invites the assault of evil. It does not honour God, and He cannot honour anyone who is ashamed of Him.
Two verses earlier the psalmist stored God's word in his heart. What fills the heart is what comes out of the mouth:
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! It should be so full that we have no room for the empty, foolish things of this present evil world… "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks." So we can judge what is in the heart by what comes out of the mouth. The tongue is the organ of the heart — the organ of the man.
- Taught — God speaks first. He teaches His judgments, and only then can we tell others what He has said.
- Cleansed — the path is cleansed before the mouth opens. Testimony comes from a heart that enjoys and meditates on God's word.
- Spoken — "judgments" are a judge's verdicts. They came out of God's mouth before they came out of ours.
- Complete — "all" leaves nothing out. We owe it to God to declare what He is, holding nothing back.
- Guarded — confessing God in all things keeps the path clean. Indecision invites the assault of evil.
I have rejoiced in the way of thy testimonies, as [much as] in all wealth.
Psalm 119 asks early on how a young man can keep his way clean. This verse comes after that answer, and it says what a clean path brings: joy, weighed against all the riches a person could own.
The writers quoted below use an older translation of this psalm. Where the ESV says, "In the way of your testimonies I delight," they read, "I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies."
One writer reads verses 13 to 16 as one chain that starts from a cleansed way:
Verses 13-16: the young man's way has been cleansed, so he can bear testimony to others (v. 13). This comes from a heart that enjoys God's testimonies (v. 14), meditates on them (v. 15), delights in them, and keeps them in mind (v. 16).
The verse speaks of God's testimonies. One writer says where they come from, and what they are not:
Note further: these are testimonies that come from God. They are His definite declaration of His mind and will. They are not a knowledge of God that man boasts of by his own will, or his claim to know what God must be. They are the definite testimonies of God, so man is subject to them, though they also hold him up. It is not man's reasoning, or man's conscience, but the testimonies of God, His own active revelation of Himself, the speaking of His word. Faith simply receives them, and the soul is subject to them as such.
One writer ties this joy to the open confession of God, and then shows what the joy leads to:
How great a thing this is for keeping a clean path — to confess God in all things, and to give yourself fully to all that He has made known of Himself! An undecided attitude invites the attack of evil. God is not honoured in it, and He cannot honour one who is ashamed of Him. Joy in what is confessed goes with a true confession. So it follows here: "I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies, as much as in all riches." The mind, too, works on what the heart enjoys. It meditates on God's precepts, and pays attention to His paths.
Why measure this joy against riches? One writer says what God's testimonies become for the soul:
God's testimonies become the riches of the soul. Owning heaven changes this a little. Yet still, for life here below, the way of God's testimonies is joy — moral joy — as riches would be to men. There is an inward life that busies itself with these things, as well as the activity of duty. There is much in God's testimonies to feed on, digest and learn. We meditate on them, and so we have God's mind — the Holy Spirit's intention in them. So the soul is fed in delight.
One writer sets this verse beside Christ's words in Psalm 40, and then marks the limit of the comparison:
As the Lord Jesus Himself says, "I delight to do your will, O my God" (Ps. 40:8), so the believer may say, "I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies as much as in all riches" (v. 14). The believer cannot say that he does the will of God as Christ does. But he has the same attitude toward God's Word as Christ has.
Rejoicing in the Word is not the whole response. One writer sets a second attitude beside it, then turns both into a question:
We have already seen that the Word revives us. Yes, we may rejoice in the Word "as much as in all riches"; "as one who finds great spoil"; "for they are the rejoicing of my heart" (Ps. 119:14, 162, 111). But on the other hand it is the holy Word of God that speaks with authority to our hearts and consciences. Are we "trembling" at His Word, and trying to order our lives by it? Or do we try to adjust God's Word to our behaviour when we have already departed from it to some degree?
- Cleansed — this joy belongs to a way already made clean. The path is cleansed first, and the rejoicing follows.
- Given — "testimonies" are God's own declaration of His mind and will. They are His revelation of Himself, not man's reasoning or conscience.
- Confessed — real joy goes with open confession of God. Indecision invites evil, and God cannot honour one who is ashamed of Him.
- Valued — God's testimonies become the riches of the soul, giving the heart here below what riches give to men.
- Kept — the mind works on what the heart enjoys, so rejoicing runs on into meditation. Trembling at the same Word keeps it steady, instead of bending God's Word to fit our lives.
I will meditate upon thy precepts, and have respect unto thy paths.
Psalm 119:15 sits in a section (verses 9–16) about how God's word keeps a young man's path clean. The psalmist promises two things: to turn God's charges over in his mind, and to keep his eyes on God's paths.
The psalm uses eight different words for God's word, each with its own shade. Two of them meet in this verse.
Several words are used, each meaning the law, but viewed from different standpoints. (1) Law (Torah) — direction, teaching. (2) Testimony (Eduth) — witness, testimony. (3) Precept (Piqqudim) — charges. (4) Statute (Choq) — decreed limit. (5) Commandment (Mitvah) — precept. (6) Word (Dabar) — word, matter, thing. (7) Judgment (Misphat) — judgment. (8) Way (Derek) — trodden path.
So the verse joins God's charges to His trodden path. The psalm treats that path as something to want, not to dread.
In this Psalm it is not the law of bondage, condemnation and death, but "the trodden path" of delight that the renewed man longs to take.
The mind does not wander at random. One writer links what a person enjoys to what he thinks about.
The mind, too, turns of itself to what the heart enjoys. So he meditates on God's precepts, and keeps His paths in view.
A picture from the farmyard shows what meditation does that reading alone does not.
Reading fills our minds with truth. Meditation brings that truth home to us in its full force and application. The ox does not only feed in the pastures; it also lies down to chew the cud. In the same way, we need to turn things over in our minds. It is not what we eat that nourishes us, but what we digest. If we meditate on the things of God, and get right into them so that they control us, then our profit, our spiritual growth, becomes plain to everyone.
Study and meditation look alike. They work on different parts of a person.
Meditation and study differ. Study is a work of the brain, meditation of the heart. Study puts the mind to work; meditation puts the affections to work. Study finds a truth out; meditation makes spiritual use of that truth. The one searches for the vein of gold, the other digs out the gold. Study is like a winter sun, with little warmth or influence. Meditation leaves the soul in a holy state. It melts the heart when it is frozen, and makes it drop into tears of love.
"I will" sounds like a decision made against resistance. One writer names who resists.
The devil is an enemy to meditation. He does not care how much people read and hear, nor how little they meditate. He knows that meditation settles the heart and brings it into a gracious state, and the devil is against that. Satan is content for you to be a hearing and praying Christian, so long as you are not a meditating Christian. He can stand your small shot, as long as you do not load this bullet.
The second half of the verse says where meditation has to end up. The ESV reads "fix my eyes on your ways"; the older wording this writer comments on is "have respect to your ways".
The writer expresses a determination: "I will meditate …". How important it is to be determined about keeping up a daily Bible study! Most Christians are so disorganised that they cannot find time for Bible study — or that is their excuse. We can always find time for something we really want to do! The writer then continues: "… and have respect to Your ways". It is not enough to be interested and to meditate on the Word. We should follow that by putting what we read into practice. To have "respect" is to be willing to obey the Word of God.
Both halves of the verse ask for more than a nod. The next verse names the result.
So the heart is moved to take time to meditate on God's precepts, not just to agree that they are true. It is moved to contemplate God's ways, not just to observe them (v. 15). Such delight in God's statutes will make a person remember, not forget (v. 16).
- Precepts. "Precepts" means God's charges, and "ways" means His trodden path — what He commands, and the road He marks out.
- Delight. The mind turns of itself to what the heart enjoys, so love for God's word feeds thought about it.
- Digest. Reading feeds; meditation chews the cud. It is not what we eat that nourishes us but what we digest.
- Decide. Satan can put up with a hearing and praying Christian, but not a meditating one. So "I will" is a settled determination.
- Do. Respect means willingness to obey. Meditation that never reaches practice stops halfway. The one who delights this way will not forget.
I delight myself in thy statutes; I will not forget thy word.
Psalm 119:16 ends the psalm's second section with two promises: joy in what God has laid down, and no forgetting of His word. Is remembering hard discipline, or the fruit of enjoyment?
Statutes sound like restriction. The word behind the term pictures something cut in — a fixed limit, and a call to obey.
CHUQQIM = Statute... It comes from the root to cut into, to hack, and so to engrave, to carve... It has the idea of that which is established, or definite; an appointed portion of food, or task; a definite limit... an appointed law, statute or ordinance. It is therefore a divine direction for my obedience, or to arrest disobedience. It stimulates obedience. It is the Law as a permanent record of God's will.
So the psalmist delights in something fixed, not something vague. One writer puts the result simply:
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!
Verse 16 ends a chain of steps. It starts with a young man whose way has been cleansed.
(vv. 13-16) The young man's way has been cleansed, so he can now bear testimony (v. 13). His heart is enjoying God's testimonies (v. 14). It meditates on them (v. 15), delights in them, and keeps them in mind (v. 16).
The order in the verse matters. Joy comes first, and forgetfulness is what joy pushes out.
The section closes with a renewed experience of joy in His statutes. That joy is a sure safeguard against a bad memory.
Why should that be so? Love and memory work together, as one writer shows from ordinary life:
An affectionate hearer will not be a forgetful hearer. Love helps the memory: Can a woman forget her child, or a bride her wedding clothes? No, they love them too well; if the truths of God were this precious to you, you would think of them day and night. Sometimes a Christian has a weak memory. He cannot recall the very words he hears well enough to repeat them. Even then he keeps their power and flavour in his spirit. Dissolve sugar in wine and you cannot see it, but you can taste it. Eat food and digest it, and you will not find it as you received it. Yet it cheers the man and strengthens him, and makes him more able to walk and work than before. By that you may know it is not lost. So you may taste in his spirit the truths the Christian heard, and see them in his life.
Verse 15 shows how verse 16 becomes possible. There is a difference between agreeing a thing is true and dwelling on it.
So the heart is moved to take time to meditate on God's precepts, not merely to acknowledge them as true; and to contemplate God's ways, not merely to observe them (v. 15). Such delight in God's statutes will cause one to remember, not to forget (v. 16).
Not forgetting takes work. One writer ties it back to verse 11, where the word is hidden in the heart.
How important that we do not forget what we have read: "I will not forget your word." In verse 11 we saw the need to hide it in our hearts. To store the mind with the Word of God is the way of victory... How can the Holy Spirit bring any word from the Bible back to our memory if we have not first stored it there? Today we say of the computer that it will give you nothing but what you have first stored in its memory yourself! ... So everything really depends on our appetite for the Word of God. The writer of this psalm gives us a good example: he says he delights in the Word of God at least 8 times — see verses 24, 35, 47, 70, 77, 92, 143 and 174.
The law goes by many names in this psalm. For the one who delights in it, none of them carries a threat.
Psalm 119 has 176 verses. No fewer than 174 of them mention the law of God under different names — law, commandments, precepts, testimonies, judgments, statutes, ordinances, word, way, path... Whatever name the law goes by, it is no longer condemnation and a threat of death. It is perfect delight and liberty.
- Engraved. A "statute" is something cut in and fixed. It is "a divine direction for my obedience" — a permanent record of God's will, not a suggestion.
- Meditated. Delight grows by dwelling on God's precepts, "not merely to acknowledge them as true."
- Delighted. Joy answers a fixed will. For the one who loves it, the law is "no longer condemnation" but "perfect delight and liberty."
- Remembered. That joy is "a sure safeguard against a bad memory." Love helps the memory, and "an affectionate hearer will not be a forgetful hearer."
- Stored. The Spirit brings back what you have first stored; nothing hidden in the heart is lost, even when the exact words are.
GIMEL. Deal bountifully with thy servant [and] I shall live; and I will keep thy word.
Verse 17 opens the third section of Psalm 119, the eight verses under the Hebrew letter Gimel. It starts with a prayer, not with a promise to obey. The writer asks God to be generous with him, and he says why: he wants to live and keep God's word. So how do God's generosity and our obedience fit together?
The prayer assumes that the ability to obey is not something the writer already has in hand. One commentator draws out how the order runs — bounty received, then the word kept:
We depend completely on God for the ability to experience things this way. Left to himself, man walks about in an empty show and troubles himself for nothing. True life begins for us in the bountiful grace of God, and it shows itself in keeping His word. The same power that brings us into this life must keep working to hold us there. And in this way we come to know marvelous things! With eyes fully awake, what glories may come into view! Plainly, what we have here is the language of prayer. Nothing is more needed than the constant sense of dependence.
He is not asking for generosity in general. God's own word sets the measure:
He asks for the Lord's goodness according to His word and within it. That word is the delight and guide of the Israel of God, no matter who despises it.
He calls himself God's servant. That place is part of the plea:
He pleads the servant's place he has taken, so that God may deal with him in divine love and teach him His statutes. He is God's servant. As a servant he needs discernment to know the testimonies he has to hold on to in a time of bold rebellion — and he may press the fact that he needs it.
The servant asks for three things. The third goes further than knowing facts:
He admits that life itself is in God's hands. He looks to the Lord's bountiful mercy to spare him, to keep him walking in obedience, and to open his eyes to behold wondrous things out of the law. This is more than finding a rule of life in the law. Anyone can do that much on his own. Only the servant with opened eyes will behold "wondrous things."
Living and keeping God's word form one request here, not two:
Verses 17 and 117 tie life and obedience together completely. For the man of God, to live and to serve the living God are one and the same thing.
The same commentary presses the point further. Grace does not loosen the link between life and obedience:
Man lives by the word of God — by obeying it. Nothing else feeds and sustains the true life of man. Bread will not sustain it. Only the life of obedience is really life. … Because sin is in us all, the covenant of law had no life in it. Yet in another sense there really is a path of life, though grace alone can put us in it or keep us there. Eternal life and disobedience are in fact opposites. The gospel does not change this. Grace fully affirms it: "Sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace."
He prays this under pressure. Notice what he wants God's mercy for:
In the third part we clearly see him leaning on God's mercy in trial, with the law in his heart. The godly Israelite looks for the Lord's bountiful dealing, but he wants it so that he may obey from the heart (v. 17).
Later in the psalm the writer looks back. One commentator ties that later word to this prayer, and notes what came in between:
In verse 67 he speaks of the affliction he went through. He has learned this. Even when the Lord deals with us in discipline, we can give thanks afterwards and say, "You have done good with Your servant." … That word in Psalm 119, "You have dealt well with Your servant," answers the prayer he prayed in verse 17: "Deal bountifully with Your servant…" Can you look back and thank the Lord for everything?
- Ask — the verse is a prayer, not a promise to try harder. Obedience starts with asking, because we depend on God even for the power to obey.
- Bounty — God's own word shapes the generosity he asks for. The same grace that starts a life of obedience must keep it going.
- Servant — he pleads the place he has taken. A servant asks God to spare him, to keep him walking, and to open his eyes. That is more than using Scripture as a rule book.
- Live — to live and to keep His word are one thing. Obedience is not added to life; it is life. Bread alone will never sustain it.
- Answer — later he says God has dealt well with him, discipline included. God answered the prayer of verse 17. So we can look back and thank Him for everything.
Open mine eyes, and I shall behold wondrous things out of thy law.
Psalm 119 is a long poem in praise of God's word, and at verse 18 the writer asks God for something he cannot give himself. The words are already in front of him; what he lacks is the sight to see them.
Anyone can pick up a Bible. But holding the book is not the same as being able to see what is in it.
The Holy Scriptures are open to all men, but not all have the capacity to perceive what is in them. Before anyone can grasp any of the wonderful things of God, he must be born again. We see this in the words of the Son of God on earth. He said to Nicodemus, "unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God" (John 3:3). New birth gives a man the sight to discern the things of God; it opens his eyes to view what is divine.
You do not need opened eyes to get something useful out of the law.
To behold wondrous things out of the law is more than discovering in the law a rule of life. The natural man can do this much; only the servant with opened eyes will behold "wondrous things."
Wondrous things — but wondrous about what? One writer answers by first ruling out what many expect.
The single eye is God-given, and it looks with wonder into the law. "Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of Your law" (Ps. 119:18) is the prayer of a man who has the single eye. Surprise fills him as these wondrous things unfold before him. But what are these wondrous things? Not the corruption of his own heart; that is not wondrous. They are God's character and will. They are His desire that men should draw near to Him, and know and respond to the love that is in His heart for them.
The law is more than a list of rules. Read this way, it points forward to a person.
The law was like a beautiful portrait — the portrait of a perfect man. Some could appreciate its beauty, like the Psalmist who prayed this very prayer. When Jesus came, every feature of it found living expression in Him. He was the original. He filled out every jot and tittle of it, brought out all its beauty and made it alive. Now the anointed eye can look on His life on earth and see in Him the blessed Man whose delight was in the law of God.
One writer points to the people in this psalm: they once despised God's law, and now they love it.
In Psalm 119 you will find the whole Hebrew alphabet run through eight times, declaring the perfections of the law of God. That is the very law they had despised, now written in their hearts. So they can say, "Oh how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day." And they can pray, "Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of Your law." This is not a repetition of Sinai. There the law was God's claim on the natural man, and it could only condemn him. Here it is the will of a gracious God, delighted in by a people born anew.
This prayer has a place in ordinary Bible reading.
Read the Word prayerfully. In prayer you speak to God; through the Word God speaks to you. While your eyes rest on the sacred page, lift your heart to God. Ask Him to open the eye of faith to "behold wondrous things" out of His law (Ps. 119:18). Remember that the Spirit of God is your Teacher... When you discover some fresh aspect of truth, when you dig out some treasure you did not know was there, meditate on it. Speak to God about it. Praise Him for it.
God's answer can come in stages.
In Mark 8 we read of a blind man near Bethsaida whom Jesus healed. After the Lord's first act the man said, "I see people, but they look like trees, walking." He could see, but not as he should, so Christ acted again. The Lord gave the man the power of sight, then the power to use his sight to tell one object from another. This suggests the step-by-step way in which we come to grasp the truths of Scripture.
- Blind first. The Bible is open to everyone, but sight is not; a person must be born again before the things of God register at all.
- Sight given. New birth supplies the eye. Anyone can pull rules out of the law, but only opened eyes see wonders.
- Wonders named. What comes into view is not your own heart, but God's character, His will, and His desire that people draw near to Him.
- Christ seen. The law is a portrait of a perfect man; when Jesus came, He was the original, and the anointed eye finds Him there.
- Sight sharpening. Like the man who first saw people as trees, understanding comes in stages. So pray this every time you open your Bible.
I am a stranger in the land; hide not thy commandments from me.
In this verse the psalmist names his place in the world: he has no lasting standing here. Homelessness on earth and hunger for God's word sound unrelated, but the commentators show how one leads to the other.
Commentators trace this condition back to the God he serves and to the world he serves Him in.
A soul that knows God in this way wants to know His mind. It wants more than a rule to guide it. It wants "wondrous things out of God's law." And all this brings the awareness of being a stranger in the earth. A good God (whose servants we are), and an evil world, make a man "a stranger" — and we are far more so through Christ.
The verse is also translated "a stranger in the earth," and the writers quoted here use that older wording. Another writer draws a surprising comfort out of the same fact.
First, the one who serves God and obeys Him, in the middle of a rebellious world, is bound to find himself "a stranger in the earth." But earth's strangers are God's friends. So the soul desires to walk in the closest intimacy with God — "hide not your commandments from me." Such a person values God's intimacies. They fill his soul, not with occasional desire, but with continual longing.
One writer follows an older wording, "a sojourner in the land," and takes it at face value. Even an Israelite born there lived on the land as God's guest, not as its owner.
This seems to be the key to the language in the psalm here: "I am a sojourner in the land." The Israelite, even if born in the land, could still say he lived there in weakness and dependence, hosted by God... These are Israelites brought home at last from all their wanderings. They come back from their long estrangement like prodigals, to learn again the ways of the One whose grace now welcomed them. For them the plea would be truly effective: "hide not your commandments from me." As His guests they will find a portion worthy of Him. It is their lodging, food and clothing, as His grace will give it — and His commands, as their sweet release from the ways of sin.
Read that way, the commandments are not a burden laid on a homeless man. They are part of the host's provision.
The plea in verse 19 follows the prayer of verse 18. One writer sets the two side by side.
The Spirit of God delights to make known to every believer what was in the heart of God from before the foundation of the world. In verse 18 we see the prayer for open eyes. In verse 19 we see the desire for an open Bible — that is, for the Holy Spirit to give light. This is how the Christian progresses in the way through this world.
Some read this part of the psalm as the voice of a godly Israelite in trial.
In the third part we find very clearly the reliance on divine mercy in trial, joined to the law in the heart. The godly Israelite looks to Jehovah's generous dealing, but he wants to obey with his whole heart (v. 17). Verse 19 shows his state.
Another writer applies the verse to the millennium, the coming thousand-year age. Even then the speaker calls himself a sojourner.
Note how he speaks of himself as a stranger (or sojourner) in the land (v. 19). For the millennium is not his final rest... Yet even though he is only passing through the world, he needs God's commandments to order his short life — short, though it lasts 1000 years!
The confession is not confined to one man or one era.
Both the Old Testament and the New Testament saints were and are strangers upon earth. David said, "I am a sojourner with you, a guest, like all my fathers" (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.
- Cause. Serving a good God in an evil world is what makes a person a stranger here. It is the result of obedience, not of bad luck.
- Status. The stranger is God's guest. God gives His guests lodging, food and clothing — and His commands, as release from the ways of sin.
- Friendship. Earth's strangers are God's friends. Losing a home here opens the door to closeness with Him.
- Prayer. Verse 18 asks for open eyes; verse 19 asks for an open Bible. A traveller with no ground of his own needs God's word to order his short life.
- Reach. The saints of both Testaments made the same confession, and believers now make it too. Their citizenship is in heaven.
My soul breaketh for longing after thy judgments at all times.
Psalm 119 is a long meditation on God's word, written by a man who calls himself a stranger on earth. Verse 20 shows what that stranger feels inside: a desire so strong it hurts, and one that never lets up.
The older reading is "my soul breaks." One writer explains the word behind it, and finds a desire that is more than a passing mood:
The word Gahras means to crush or to break in pieces, so we have this strong expression: "My soul breaks for the longing…". It is a deep desire after the Word of God and the will of God. Paul expresses such a desire after Christ: "That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death" (Phil. 3:10)… This is not just an emotional moment, it is a constant longing: "…at all times." It is sometimes said, "You are what you long for."
(The ESV renders the same phrase "My soul is consumed with longing.")
The longing does not appear out of nowhere. One commentator ties it to verse 19: obeying God in a disobedient world leaves a man out of place, and that pushes him closer to God.
The one who serves God and obeys Him in a rebellious world must find himself "a stranger in the earth." But earth's strangers are God's friends. So the soul longs to walk in the closest intimacy with God: "Hide not your commandments from me." Such a person values being let into God's confidence. These things fill his soul, not with occasional desire, but with continual longing.
Verse 18 asked God to open his eyes. Verse 20 shows what happens once they open. Clear sight produces the ache, and the ache does not burn out.
So the eyes open to the reality of things. They see evil and good in the sharp opposition that exists between them. And the eye affects the heart. So the soul breaks with the longing it has after those judgments of God. Those judgments reach to the heart of things and make that necessary opposition clear. This passionate longing after His mind does not reach a cold, colourless sorting of things. Nor does this intense spirit wear itself out. It lasts "at all times." God stays the same, and communion with Him, if it is real, forms His character within us.
Commentators differ on the mood of the verse. Some hear crushing pressure; others hear an outburst of delight. One writer hears the new nature spilling over:
The soul that knows God wants to know His mind. It wants more than a rule to direct it. It wants "wondrous things out of God's law." And all this gives the awareness of being a stranger in the earth. A good God, whose servants we are, and an evil world, make a man "a stranger"… And here the heart is full and wholly engaged. "My soul breaks" forth, for there is infinite delight in the new nature, in the fullness of God's revelations.
Another writer notes how far this is from fear of the law:
Psalm 119 has 176 verses, and no fewer than 174 of them mention the law of God under different names — law, commandments, precepts, testimonies, judgments, statutes, ordinances, word, way, path. Whatever name the law may go by, it no longer threatens condemnation and death. It is perfect delight and liberty… "Seven times a day I praise you for your righteous rules" (v. 164).
This longing is not effortless. One writer reads the crushing as the cost of real obedience:
Obedience will not be automatic. It calls for serious inner effort that reaches deep into the soul. In contrast, the proud stray from God's commandments. They can well expect God's rebuke, and they are justly under a curse (v. 21).
What if you do not feel this longing? One writer says the hunger itself is God's gift, and God fills what He stirs:
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.
- Sight — the opened eyes of verse 18 come first; seeing good and evil in their real opposition is what starts the ache.
- Strangeness — obeying God in a rebellious world makes a man an outsider. Earth's strangers are God's friends, and they want His confidence.
- Strength — the word means to crush. This is pressure, not a mood; writers differ on whether it is more pain or more delight.
- Steadiness — "at all times" is the point. The longing never runs dry, because the God it reaches for never changes.
- Source — God stirs the hunger He intends to fill, so the longing you feel is already His hand at work.
Thou hast rebuked the proud [that are] cursed, who wander from thy commandments.
Psalm 119 pictures a man who loves God's word while living among people who do not. Verse 21 turns to those people, and raises two questions: what is wrong with the "insolent," and what should a believer do about them?
The verse does not describe rudeness or bad manners. ESV calls these people the "insolent"; the older translation used by the writers quoted here says "proud." One writer explains what that pride is, and why a curse belongs to it.
He sees it already taking effect: "You have rebuked the proud" — the creature lifting itself above its place, against Him who gave it that place. "They are cursed who go astray from Your commandments."
The word behind "wander from your commandments" is not a rare one. One writer shows where else it turns up.
The verb is "to err," as in Psalm 119:10, 21, 118; Leviticus 4:13, sin through ignorance.
Delight in God's word does more than warm the heart. It teaches a person how to weigh the confident man who looks successful.
But this delight in the word gives a true estimate of man in the world. The "proud" man acts from his own will and sets himself up. He may seem to succeed and scoff at God. He is under a curse. He strays from the one true way of man — God's way. Lifting up our own will brings a necessary curse, because it puts us away from God, in rebellion against Him. That is what all acting of human will is.
Verse 20 has just described a soul worn out with longing. One writer sets that effort beside the ease of straying.
Obedience will not be automatic. It takes serious exercise that goes deep into the soul. In contrast, the proud stray from God's commandments, and can well expect God's rebuke, since they are rightly under a curse (v. 21).
The proud do more than stray. They pour scorn on the man who obeys, which raises the question of whether to answer them.
The servant of God finds he is not only a stranger in the earth. The wicked are also against him. In their pride, with the wealth of princes, they heap reproach and contempt on the man who walks in lowly obedience to God. The godly man forms a true estimate of such men. He sees that God has rebuked them, and that they are under a curse. There is no need to answer those whom God rebukes. So the psalmist keeps silent when they speak harshly, and finds his delight and his counsel in the testimonies of God.
Later, religious leaders used words like this verse against the crowd listening to Jesus. One writer asks who the curse fell on.
The proud who wander from God's testimonies are cursed. Proud Pharisees and priests misquoted verse 21 in John 7:49. They aimed it at the people who were struck by the Saviour's gracious words. Was it not really fulfilled in the Pharisees and priests themselves, and to their own condemnation?
- Place — Pride is the creature lifting itself above the place God gave it. The curse is the natural end of that self-exaltation.
- Straying — The word behind "wander" means "to err." Leaving God's commandments loses the one true way for man. It is no bold new path.
- Cost — The longing of verse 20 takes real effort. Straying takes none, so the proud can expect God's rebuke.
- Silence — God has already rebuked the men who scorn you. You owe them no argument. Go back to His testimonies for delight and counsel.
- Reversal — Religious men later aimed this curse at the crowd listening to Jesus. It landed on the accusers instead.
Roll off from me reproach and contempt; for I observe thy testimonies.
The psalmist asks God to take away the scorn heaped on him. The reason he gives is not his innocence in general. It is one thing: he has kept God's testimonies. That raises two questions. Why should obedience bring contempt at all? And what can a person plead when it does?
The reproach in this verse is not random misfortune. It grows out of the psalmist's hold on God's word. That hold sets him apart from the world around him.
GIMEL. Verses 17-24. The knowledge of the Lord in the heart separates the godly from all that is contrary to His name. This divine knowledge makes the saint a stranger in the world, and brings him into reproach with the great down here, who speak against him. There is a great gulf between those who seek the will of the Lord and those who belong to the system of this world. The godly seek counsel from His word, while the proud wander from His commandments.
Another writer names what comes with that stranger position: closeness to God. Being unwelcome on earth goes with being welcome with God.
First, the one who serves and obeys God in a rebellious world is bound to find himself "a stranger in the earth." But earth's strangers are God's friends. So the soul longs to walk in closest intimacy with God — "Hide not Your commandments from me."
This one line is not an isolated complaint. Across the whole psalm the same man is under steady pressure, and this verse is one item in a long list.
He is surrounded by transgressors that grieve his spirit (v. 158), and enemies that oppress him (v. 134). Princes speak against him (v. 23), and persecute him without a cause (v. 161). The proud hold him in derision (v. 51), forge lies against him (v. 69), and dig pits for his overthrow (v. 85). The wicked lay snares for his feet (v. 110), and lie in wait for his destruction (v. 95). He is held in reproach and contempt (v. 22); in the eyes of the world he is little and despised (v. 141).
Why can he offer his keeping of the testimonies as a reason? Because a testimony is a witness to what is true, and truth will not stay hidden forever.
"Testimonies" are to fact and truth: and God's facts will assert themselves as that, and His truth will show itself at last, beyond all controversy. Then, at least, reproach and contempt will pass from those who have identified themselves with what will be seen as it really is. And this may take place sooner than the inevitable time in which it surely shall.
Until that day comes, the scorn has a use. It tests whether love for God's word is real.
Meanwhile the present reproach does its own work. It tests the soul that through it all makes God's statutes its occupation and delight, and it clears that soul of suspicion.
The psalmist takes the insult to God instead of back to his accusers. One writer points out that he does not argue his case with them at all.
Second, the servant of God finds he is not only a stranger in the earth. He is also opposed by the wicked. In their pride and the prosperity of princes, they heap reproaches and contempt on the one who walks in lowly obedience to God. The godly man forms a just estimate of such people. He sees they are rebuked by God and under a curse. There is no need to answer those whom God rebukes. So the psalmist stays silent when they speak harshly against him, and finds his delight and counsel in the testimonies of God.
Others describe the believer's instinctive recoil from being wrapped in such shame, and where that recoil goes.
Any part in such reproach and contempt is deeply objectionable to a believer, who asks that this should be removed from him, a desire he bases on the fact of his keeping God's testimonies.
Read as a whole, verses 17-24 hold two things together. One is trust in God's mercy while the trial lasts. The other is love for His law while it still costs something.
In the third part we see very clearly the leaning on divine mercy in trial, joined with the law in the heart… verses 22, 23 show the contempt that the poor remnant suffers. Jehovah's law had been his delight and comfort under it.
- Cause — Knowing God's word sets a person apart from the world. That gap is what draws the scorn.
- Cost — The scorn is real and steady. Princes speak against him, the proud mock him, and the world counts him small.
- Claim — He pleads the testimonies because a testimony is a witness to fact. God's truth will show itself at last, beyond all argument.
- Crucible — While it lasts, the reproach tests the soul and clears it. Real delight in God's statutes shows when there is nothing to gain by it.
- Conduct — He answers no one; he takes the insult to God and keeps His law as his comfort under it.
Princes also did sit [and] talk together against me thy servant doth meditate in thy statutes.
Two pictures stand side by side in this verse. Powerful men sit and talk against the psalmist. He turns God's statutes over in his mind. So what does a believer do when powerful people attack him unfairly?
The opposition comes from the top of society, not the bottom. One writer draws attention to where these men sat, and to what their posture says about them.
Yet for all that he was a misunderstood man, not by those who were poor and humble, but by the princes of his people. Notice how he puts it: "princes did SIT." While he walked and laboured they sat and watched him. They did not sit in the learner's seat, but on the judge's bench, and from there they spoke against him. Well, that is easy, even if it is presumptuous work. It takes no spiritual power to sit and speak against others. It takes no God-given purpose, no earnest prayer, no diligent study of the Word. Yet a man needs all these if he is to walk in the way of God's commandments.
Their criticism cost them something. While they sat in judgment, they left their own work undone.
Now while these princes sat in the judgment seat they were neglecting their God-appointed work. He had called them to bring their offerings to Him, as we read in Numbers 7; and to dig the wells for the refreshment of the people, as we read in Numbers 21:18. God had given them this two-fold ministry: offering to God, and refreshing the people. But these princes had forgotten their high and holy calling. They spent their time speaking against a man whose heart was set on the ways of God.
The psalmist gives no answer to the hard words. One commentator explains why: God has already passed sentence on such men.
The servant of God finds he is not only a stranger in the earth. He is also opposed by the wicked. In their pride and princely wealth they heap insults and contempt on the man who walks in humble obedience to God. The godly man judges such people rightly. He sees that God has rebuked them and that they are under a curse. There is no need to answer those whom God rebukes, and so the psalmist is silent in the presence of their hard speeches, finding his delight and counsel in the testimonies of God.
Another writer frames the same restraint as evidence of faith rather than weakness — meditation is what he does instead of hitting back.
Even princes, those considered dignitaries, would calmly sit to speak against the godly... But instead of retaliating resentfully, the faith of God's servant is shown in meditating on His statutes (v.23). In God's testimonies also he finds delight and appreciated counsel (v.24).
The name he gives himself in the second half of the verse is not decoration. It settles whose verdict counts.
It is a great stay to the soul of a man when he can look up into the face of God and say, "I am Your servant"... God reveals His thoughts and His will for His servants in His word, and there alone. So the Psalmist says, "Your servant will meditate on Your statutes." What peace that meditation would give him, what poise to his soul! How it would lift him above the irritation that this criticism would otherwise have caused him! How it would help him to adjust his ways not to the opinions of his self-appointed judges, but to the will of God whose servant he was!
He was not numb to the insults. He had found where comfort comes from, and the same writer traces that through the psalm and into the New Testament.
But the Psalmist was a wise man, made wise by the Word that he loved. He felt the hard words spoken against him, and felt them keenly. Still he did not retaliate. He does not seem to have thought it worth his while to defend himself. He turned to God and His word... He knew the source of hope and comfort and peace. It was the word that had caused him to hope (v. 49), and that same word was his comfort in his affliction (v. 50). This reminds us of a beautiful word in the New Testament: "For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope" (Rom. 15:4).
Meditation is more than reading. It is the slow work of digestion, and one writer uses a farmyard picture to describe it.
By reading, our minds become well furnished with truth. By meditation the truth in its force and bearing is brought home to us. The ox not only feeds in the pastures; it also lies down to chew the cud. In the same way we need to turn things over in our minds. It is not what we eat that nourishes us, but what we digest. When we meditate on the things of God, getting right into them so that they control us, our spiritual growth becomes plain to everyone.
- Seated. The critics sat on the judge's bench, not the learner's seat. Speaking against a godly man takes no prayer, no purpose, no study of the Word.
- Distracted. While they judged, they left undone the work God gave them: offering to Him and refreshing His people.
- Silent. There is no need to answer people whom God has already rebuked. The psalmist meets hard words with delight in God's testimonies.
- Servant. Calling himself God's servant lifts him above the irritation. He shapes his ways by God's will, not by the opinions of self-appointed judges.
- Steadied. The Word that gave him hope also comforted him in affliction — but it feeds us only when we digest it, not when we just read it.
Thy testimonies also are my delight [and] my counsellors.
This verse ends a section written under pressure. Powerful men sit and speak against the psalmist, so he turns to what God has said — and calls it both his joy and his adviser.
The verse before it describes officials sitting down to speak against the writer. One writer weighs how little that costs the critic, against what obedience demands:
Notice how he puts it: the princes SAT. While he walked and worked, they sat and watched him. They did not sit in the learner's seat, but on the judge's bench, and from there they spoke against him. Well, that is easy work, even if it is arrogant. It takes no spiritual power to sit and speak against others. It takes no God-given purpose, no earnest prayer, no diligent study of the Word. Yet all these are needed if a man is to walk in the way of God's commandments.
The same writer notes where he took those words instead:
But the Psalmist was a wise man, made wise by the Word he loved. He felt the hard words spoken against him, and felt them sharply. Even so, he did not hit back. It seems he did not think it worth his while to defend himself. He turned to God and His word.
Why did he not defend himself? One writer points to how the psalmist judged his opponents, and to where his delight already lay:
The servant of God finds that he is not only a stranger on the earth, but opposed by the wicked. In their pride and princely wealth they heap reproach and contempt on the man who walks in lowly obedience to God. The godly man judges such men rightly. He sees that God rebukes them and that they are under a curse. There is no need to answer those whom God rebukes. So the psalmist stays silent while they speak hard words, and finds his delight and counsel in the testimonies of God.
Why does a slandered man rest on God's "testimonies"? One writer answers that a testimony stands for fact:
"Testimonies" point to fact and truth. God's facts will prove themselves to be facts, and His truth will show itself at last, beyond all argument. Then, at least, reproach and contempt will pass away from those who have tied themselves to what will be seen in its true character… Meanwhile the reproach of the present time does its own work: it tests the soul that through it all makes God's statutes its occupation and delight, and it clears that soul of suspicion.
Not every heart finds God's commands a delight. One writer traces the difference to the heart itself:
It is all a question of the heart. You can see the principle in Psalm 27:8: "You have said, 'Seek My face.' My heart says to You, 'Your face, Lord, do I seek.'" The natural heart finds the law an unbearable burden. "A new heart" (Ezek. 36:26) finds it a delight. No less than 184 times, under different names, does the writer pour out his deep joy and delight.
A counsellor is someone you consult before you act. One writer shows how that works when Scripture never mentions your exact situation:
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. Of course, there are smaller details of a personal kind, and we cannot expect to find these mentioned in Scripture. Still, we may seek and find guidance in many confusing situations. But this is only 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.
Delight alone is not enough. One writer turns the verse into a prayer that asks for both:
But we should learn also to say, May Your testimonies, O Lord, be my counsellor, as well as my delight! By these may Your servant be warned, and in the keeping of them find great reward!
- Pressure. Powerful men sit in the judge's seat and speak against the psalmist. Their criticism costs them nothing.
- New heart. Delight in God's commands is not natural. The natural heart finds them a burden; a new heart finds them a delight.
- Delight. Because his delight is already in God's testimonies, he can stay silent under hard words instead of defending himself.
- Counsel. The same testimonies are his advisers. The Word is where light and direction come from, even when a situation is not spelled out.
- Vindication. Testimonies stand for fact and truth. God's truth will show itself at last, beyond all argument — and meanwhile the reproach itself tests whether the Word is truly his delight.
DALETH. My soul cleaveth unto the dust quicken me according to thy word.
This verse starts at the bottom. A man lies flat in the dust, admits what his soul is stuck to, and asks God for life on the strength of what God has said.
A Hebrew letter, Daleth, heads this section of the psalm. Writers say the letter itself carries a meaning, and it fits a person who has run out of road.
This word means "door" in Hebrew... The spiritual meaning of the letter seems to be "entrance", "giving entrance", or "opening up the way". The way we are in seems blocked. We are at a dead end, and emotionally we may be at our wit's end, deeply depressed and discouraged. "Daleth" will help us discover the way to being revived, restored and encouraged.
So why does a soul sink to the dust? One writer points to the fall, not to the body we live in.
The soul, though it lives in a body formed of dust, clings to the dust only because it is fallen. Out of the awareness of this, the psalmist cries for the power of God to energize it according to the gracious promises of the Word. He has laid bare before God his whole practical condition; and he knows that God answers him.
One writer turns the confession into a set of questions about what we value most.
"My soul clings to the dust..." What a discovery to make! Indeed, how much value do we attach to the things of this earth? Do we "theorise" about the Christian life, and yet live for this earth, rather than for the Lord Jesus? What are our priorities? Do we "cling" to some kind of idol that we cannot let go? We have tried so hard to get free from this thing, this particular weakness or temptation, but to no avail. We are depressed about it... Well might we echo the cry: "...give me life..." That life is the life of Christ, lived out in us. Have we come to Him, have we surrendered to Him?
The psalmist makes no promise to lift himself. He has nothing left to pull on, so the second half of the verse turns to God.
Verse 25 paints a vivid picture of someone reduced to utter helplessness — "My soul clings to the dust." In such a state a person can do nothing for himself. He can only depend on the Lord to revive him according to God's Word. Thank God that one Resource remains when all else fails! For revival we may surely have confidence in the God of resurrection and in the truth of His Word.
Older translations read "quicken me". That can sound like the first gift of life to someone dead in sin. But this psalmist asks for it again and again, and he says elsewhere that God's word has already given him life.
The Psalmist says that God's Word has given him life in verse 50, yet again and again he desires to be revived. The word is evidently used more in the sense of being revived, of being restored to more vigorous life. In Old Testament times man was still on trial. God had given the law to test him, and life on earth was still held out as the result of perfect obedience to the law. Only when we come to the New Testament is that testing over, and man formally declared dead in trespasses and sins. So only in the New Testament does the full truth of quickening appear.
Verse 25 is not an isolated cry. The verses that follow it keep the same posture, and one writer marks the next step as full honesty about the failure itself.
"I have declared my ways..." Have we told Him all? Our failures, our vain efforts? Our struggles and defeats? Have we left anything unconfessed? Are we willing to judge the root cause of our defeat? Confession is not only that I tell the Lord my faults, but that I accept myself as I really am, without any pretence and without any excuses.
The verse has been used at moments of public repentance. One account records an emperor, refused entry to the church until he showed real change, using these very words.
The Emperor, pulling off his imperial robes, prayed prostrate on the pavement. "My soul clings to the dust," he cried; "give me life according to Your word." The people wept and prayed with him, moved by his grief and humiliation.
- Dust — the soul clings to the dust not because it lives in a dust-formed body, but because it is fallen.
- Discovery — the first work of the verse is honest self-examination: what is it that I cannot let go of?
- Dependence — when you can do nothing for yourself, one Resource remains: the Lord who revives.
- Door — the letter heading this section means "door"; it opens a way for the person at a dead end.
- Divine life — the plea is not for a first life but for reviving, and its measure is God's own word.
I have declared my ways, and thou hast answered me teach me thy statutes.
In one line the psalmist does two things: he gives God a full account of himself, and he asks to be taught. So why does confession come first, and what does God's answer look like?
The first half of the verse is a report the psalmist makes about himself. One writer asks how complete such a report has to be:
"When I told of my ways…" Have we told Him all? Our failures, our vain efforts? Our struggles and defeats? Have we left anything unconfessed? Are we willing to judge the root cause of our defeat? Confession is not only that I tell the Lord my faults, but that I accept myself as I really am, without any pretence and without any excuses.
The psalmist speaks of God's answer as a settled fact. Where does such confidence come from?
(v. 26) This confidence in God is the outcome of confession to God. The soul made known all its ways to God, and knew God had heard: "When I told of my ways, You answered me."
God's answer is not always comfortable. It also has one condition:
"When I told of my ways, You answered me" (v. 26). To receive God's answer, our account of our ways must be honest — and honesty does not put us in the light we might prefer! And God's answer will certainly be for our correction, with instruction in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16). So the psalmist asks, "Teach me Your statutes."
So who does the teaching, and what is a statute?
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher, and through these instruments which grace employs He can teach us the will of God (John 14:26). So let us echo the psalmist's prayer to the Lord, "teach me Your statutes." And remember what a statute is: "a divine direction to secure our obedience and to keep us from disobedience."
Why ask at all? The psalmist knows he does not yet know. And being taught is only the first step:
In verse 26 the psalmist asks to be "taught" because he is conscious of his ignorance. He lacks experience of many things. Now he asks, "Make me understand…" To be taught is not enough. We must also grasp what we have been taught. Otherwise our knowledge stays theoretical.
The statutes open onto a whole path. There is also another path, one we pick for ourselves:
The psalmist longs to know more of God's statutes, and the whole way His precepts lead. He is sure that there he will find the wondrous works of God to meditate on. What glories can be known on the path God has ordained! If an Israelite could say so, how much more we! We dull the prospect by unbelief. We shut ourselves out of it by choosing our own path. And we shut ourselves in to the dull, ordinary lives we so often live. This happens because we will it, not because God will have it.
Verse 26 is the first step in a sequence. One word runs through it — "way":
Desiring God's way, the soul prays to be delivered from man's way — the way of lying. He has confessed his way (v. 26), learned God's way (v. 27), refused man's way (v. 29), and chosen God's way (v. 30) — the way of truth… And being "enlarged," or set free, from heaviness, he wants to run the way of the Lord's commandments with new energy.
- Declare — Confession is a full account of failures and defeats. You judge the root cause and make no excuses. You accept yourself as you really are.
- Heard — Confidence grows out of that confession. The soul told God everything and knew He had heard.
- Correct — Honest words will not show us in the light we would prefer. God's answer comes back as correction and instruction in righteousness.
- Teach — He asks for statutes: divine directions that secure obedience and keep us from disobedience. The Holy Spirit is the Teacher who gives them.
- Walk — My way confessed, God's way learned, man's way refused, God's way chosen. A path we choose ourselves shuts us out of the glories on God's road.
Make me to understand the way of thy precepts, and I will meditate upon thy wondrous works.
This prayer follows a confession. In verse 26 the writer laid his own ways open before God; here he asks God for understanding of another way, and says he will then dwell on God's wondrous works.
This request is one step in a sequence that runs through the whole Daleth section. One writer traces the movement from the writer's own conduct to a settled choice:
Desiring God's way the soul prays to be delivered from man's way — the way of lying. He has confessed his way (v. 26), learned God's way (v. 27), refused man's way (v. 29), and chosen God's way (v. 30) — the way of truth.
So the prayer for understanding is not a stray wish for information. It stands between an honest confession and a firm refusal of man's way.
Verse 26 asks to be taught. This verse asks for something more. One writer marks the difference:
In verse 26 the Psalmist asks to be "taught" because he knows he is ignorant. He lacks experience of many things. Now he asks: "Make me understand … ". To be taught is not enough. We must also grasp and understand what we have been taught. Otherwise our knowledge is only theory. We can have an intellectual grasp of the Bible, and have knowledge, and still lack the wisdom that comes from experience — the wisdom to pass that knowledge on to others.
If understanding could be earned by study alone, the prayer would be unnecessary. One writer locates the real obstacle somewhere other than the mind:
This is the secret of true understanding. People do not understand the word because they have brighter minds than others, but because they have a more obedient heart. The single-hearted desire to do the will of God is what secures understanding of His word. And it is the Spirit of God who produces both. It is the will that darkens the understanding. When grace makes us want to do His will, God does not hold back His light.
The prayer asks for "the way" of the precepts — where they take a person. One writer finds the wondrous works along that path, then turns it on the reader:
But he longs to know more of His statutes, and the whole way in which His precepts lead. He is sure that there he will find the wondrous works of God to meditate on. What glories can be seen in the path God has marked out! If an Israelite could say this, how much more can we! We dull the prospect by unbelief. We shut ourselves out of it by choosing our own path, and shut ourselves in to the dull, ordinary lives we so often live. This is because we want it so, not because God wants it.
Older translations read "talk of Your wondrous works" where the ESV has "meditate." One writer follows that older reading and draws a line from what we take in to what we can say:
To be able to "talk of Your wondrous works", we must first have taken in and digested the truths of God's Word. Too many assume they are teachers because they have some Bible knowledge. But there is something lacking in their talk, their teaching. Before what I say to others can grip them, it must first have gripped me.
- Confess the way. The prayer starts where verse 26 left off — with his own ways laid open before God, not hidden.
- Learn the way. Teaching is only half of it. Knowledge stays theory until God gives the understanding to grasp it.
- Want the way. Understanding comes from an obedient heart, not from a brighter mind. It is the will that darkens the understanding.
- Walk the way. He asks for the way the precepts lead. That path is where the wondrous works of God are found. A path we pick ourselves shuts us out of them.
- Talk of the way. Only truth that has gripped us will grip anyone else. We must digest the wondrous works before we can speak of them.
My soul melteth for sadness strengthen me according to thy word.
Here a man's inner strength has drained away, and he asks God to give it back. Two practical questions follow: what makes a soul melt, and why does he tie the cure to God's word?
The verse does not stand alone. It follows a request to be taught God's way. The order matters. The psalmist has already opened his life to God before he asks for strength.
Having confessed his own ways, the psalmist wants to be taught God's way and God's wondrous works. In that way he finds relief from his felt weakness by God's strength.
Notice what he does not do with the pressure he is under. Earlier in the same section he shows the pattern:
With the power of evil pressing upon his spirit, the godly man looks only to the Lord for relief. He does not seek to find relief by escaping from the pressure. He seeks God in the pressure, praying that God would raise his drooping spirits according to the comfort of the word.
The image is of something solid losing its shape. One writer reads it as weakness that has grown past what a person can carry.
"My soul melts from heaviness" (v. 28), that is, the burden of his weakness is so great that it becomes overpowering. Where will he find strength but in the Word of God?
Commentators trace this heaviness to a particular habit of the heart. The problem is not always the trial itself, but where our attention lands while we are in it.
There is nothing more disheartening and discouraging than to be occupied with oneself. Our spirits will begin to wilt and droop. Something has happened to us, and we wonder: "Why me?" We cannot understand why the Lord has allowed this. We begin to sulk. We become depressed and burdened with heaviness. In Romans chapter seven the personal pronouns I, me, myself, appear 47 times. I ask you, with whom is the man in that chapter occupied? The capital letter "I" appears 28 times! There is your answer. He is occupied with "self".
The second half of the verse is not a vague plea for a lift. It names both the measure and the guarantee of the help.
The soul, though the dweller in a dust-formed body, clings to the dust only because it is fallen. Out of the awareness of this, the psalmist cries for the power of God to energize it according to the gracious promises of the Word. He has laid bare before God his whole practical condition, and knows that He has answered him. … "My soul melts for heaviness," he cries; but then there is pledged strength to meet him.
(An older translation renders the second half "make me to arise.")
The psalmist's low state is not treated as failure. Commentators find real value in a heart that feels its own weakness and still looks only to God.
The heart took the low and humbled place, with no courage about outward things. It also melted within for heaviness. Inside, it was in felt weakness. Still the strength it looks for is according to God's word. It seeks nothing but this. … Through this it was downcast. But it is better to be downcast through evil than to walk cheerfully in it. More energetic faith might lift up. Still the sense of evil and dependence is good.
This verse gives a prayer we can use, not just a record of someone else's low day.
Let us then follow the Psalmist in his prayer: "strengthen me according to your word". Occupation with Christ, with the word of Christ, will get us out of our depressions!
And the section does not end in heaviness. Relief leads on to movement:
He has confessed his way (v. 26), learned God's way (v. 27), refused man's way (v. 29), and chosen God's way (v. 30) — the way of truth. … And being 'enlarged,' or 'set free' from heaviness, he wants to run the way of the Lord's commandments with new energy.
- Cause — Self-occupation drains us. Spirits wilt and droop when the question becomes "Why me?"
- Confession — The cry for strength comes after he lays his whole condition bare before God.
- Cry — He does not ask to escape the pressure; he seeks God inside it.
- Measure — "According to Your word" leans the prayer on pledged strength, not on a vague wish.
- Result — Set free from heaviness, the soul stops melting and starts running.
Remove from me the way of falsehood, and graciously grant me thy law.
The prayer comes from a worn-out man, and it has two halves: take one road away from me, and give me another. He asks God for both — which raises a question: why must a man who already knows the law ask for it again, and ask for it as a kindness?
The prayer rises out of a sense of weakness. One writer traces the link: strength must come from somewhere, and every other source is what older translations call "the way of lying."
Where will he find strength but in the Word of God? Anything contrary to this is "the way of lying," and we might all well pray to have this removed from us (v. 29), and that God would graciously give us His law. So, in contrast to "the way of lying," it is "the way of truth" the psalmist has chosen.
The verse is the third step in a chain that runs through this section. Each step is a different act of the heart.
Desiring God's way, the soul prays to be delivered from man's way — the way of lying. He has confessed his way (v. 26), learned God's way (v. 27), refused man's way (v. 29), and chosen God's way (v. 30) — the way of truth.
Refusing comes before choosing.
Notice who does the removing. He does not promise to drop the lie; he asks God to take it from him. One writer connects this to the sense of his own frailty, and treats the false way as a route we map out ourselves.
We dull the prospect by unbelief, and we shut ourselves out of it by choosing our own path. This is because we will it so, not because God does… Feeling his own frailty, he also asks to have the way of falsehood removed from him. And he asks that God would graciously grant him His authoritative law — in keeping with the character of the whole psalm.
The way of lying is not only the deceit of other people. One writer turns it inward. He looks at the gap between what we say about our spiritual life and how we live.
Of course, I can refuse the truth about myself! But that is a form of dishonesty before the Lord, as well as before others. Have you never felt like a hypocrite, talking to others about your spiritual experience on a day when you had been unfaithful to the Lord? We can hide our own spiritual poverty from others, but why try to hide it from Him?
Another writer describes how this happens. Breaking a person's will brings the heart up against the word.
Breaking the will brings what is in the heart into direct contact with the word. Self is judged in the forms it takes within the heart — what flesh is in its ways, however deceitful. So the heart gets to learn, freed from self.
The second half of the verse puts two words side by side that normally pull against each other. The psalmist wants the law — but he wants it handed to him as a kindness. Older translations read this line as "grant me Your law graciously."
The Psalmist appeals to the law. But we know that the law can only condemn me and make me see even more my own wretchedness. But no, it is grace we need: "…and grant me Your law graciously." It may seem strange to find these two joined here: law–grace! The literal Hebrew reads: "and favour me with Your law." If the Lord favoured His people by giving them a written revelation of Himself in the law, how much more has He favoured us in Christ! He has shown us God's wonderful grace: forgiveness of all our transgressions, and grace to do His will!
Answered prayer here does not end in bare duty. Hamilton Smith describes what follows once the man refuses the false way and chooses the true one. His heaviness gives way to freedom.
This definite choice of the way of truth brings confidence. So the soul asks the Lord that he may not be put to shame. And now that he is "enlarged," or "set free," from heaviness, he wants to run the way of the Lord's commandments with new energy.
- Heaviness — The prayer rises out of weakness. Anything other than God's word as a source of strength is itself the way of lying.
- Refusal — He refuses man's way before he chooses God's way, and he asks God to clear the false road first.
- Honesty — The lie to be removed includes the one we tell about ourselves. We can hide our spiritual poverty from people, but why hide it from Him?
- Favour — "Graciously" reads literally as "favour me with Your law." He does not demand the law; he asks for it as a gift.
- Freedom — Set free from heaviness, he runs the way of God's commandments with new energy.
I have chosen the way of faithfulness; thy judgments have I set [before me].
Verses 25 to 32 of Psalm 119 open with a man downcast and surrounded by lies, and then, at verse 30, something turns. He makes a choice, called "the way of truth" in the older wording the comments below follow.
Verse 30 does not stand alone. It is the last step in a sequence that runs through the whole section. Each step makes the next one possible.
Desiring God's way, the soul prays to be delivered from man's way — the way of lying. He has confessed his way (v. 26), learned God's way (v. 27), refused man's way (v. 29), and chosen God's way (v. 30) — the way of truth. This definite choice of the way of truth brings confidence. Out of that confidence the soul asks the Lord not to let him be put to shame.
The order matters. A man owns his own way before he can choose God's.
The man who made this choice was downcast, and false ways surrounded him. That is what gives it weight.
The false way, in the middle of which he lived, he would have kept far away from his heart. Because of this he was downcast. But it is better to be downcast because of evil than to walk merrily in it. More energetic faith might lift him up. Still, the sense of evil and of dependence is good. It was deliberate. He knew all this, but he had chosen the way of truth. "Lord, to whom shall we go?"
That is what "deliberate" means here. He knew what he was living in, and chose the way of truth anyway.
The ESV calls this "the way of faithfulness." Holding to it counts most while the trouble is still there.
This integrity in the time of trouble, when there is no joy of God's deliverance, is very important — to be able to say, "When my spirit was in heaviness, You knew my path." Still there is confidence about the result, so the soul clings to God's ways. The heart counts on His faithfulness and is sure that, if He leads it in a faithful walk, it will soon tell of His wonderful works.
The heaviness of the previous verses does not lift by itself. Someone has to decide.
It is up to us now! There must be a choice! God does not do for us what we can do for ourselves! We can stay in our depression and keep on sulking and murmuring and get more and more depressed. But we need not. "I have chosen the way of truth …" is his decision! Spiritual advance and growth is not automatic! It demands our co-operation, an action of our will.
The second half of the verse says where God's word belongs.
Here is the conviction that God's word will govern our lives: "Your judgments I have laid before me." Psalm 16:8 shows the same determination: "I have set the Lord always before me: because He is at my right hand, I shall not be moved." Have you made that decision yet?
A choice that only lasts an evening is worth nothing. The strength of verse 30 is that it holds, and that is what allows the confident plea of the verses around it.
He can speak of having chosen the way of truth, and of setting God's judgments before him. And this was no passing resolve: he clings to His testimonies. So he can plead with confidence not to be put to shame. In truth it is impossible for one who does this that he ever should be. So the soul assures itself, gathers up its strength, and looks at the way opening up before it. Yet at the same time it is fully convinced how weak all human powers are when it comes to grasping what is divine, and that it depends on God entirely in all things: "I will run in the way of Your commandments when You enlarge my heart."
So the confidence never turns into self-confidence. The choice is ours; the strength is His.
- Confess — the choice in verse 30 is the last of four steps: confession (v. 26), teaching (v. 27), refusal (v. 29), choice (v. 30).
- Choose — it is a decision of the will, not a mood that arrives. Growth is not automatic; it asks for your co-operation.
- Eyes open — he chose while downcast, with false ways all around him. He knew all this, and chose anyway.
- Set it before you — the second half makes the first half practical. God's word goes in front of your eyes and governs your life.
- Keep it — not a passing resolve but a clinging. That is what lets the soul plead never to be put to shame.
I cleave unto thy testimonies; Jehovah, let me not be ashamed.
In Psalm 119 the psalmist has just chosen the way of truth, and he is about to speak of running the way of God's commandments. Here, in between, he holds on — and he asks not to be put to shame, which raises two questions: what shame does he fear, and what makes him sure it will not fall on him?
Clinging is not where this part of the psalm starts. One writer traces the steps that lead up to it.
Desiring God's way, the soul prays to be delivered from man's way — the way of lying. He has confessed his way (v. 26), learned God's way (v. 27), refused man's way (v. 29), and chosen God's way (v. 30) — the way of truth. In the confidence that springs from this definite choice of the way of truth, the soul pleads with the Lord that he may not be put to shame. Also, now "enlarged," or "set free" from heaviness, he wants to run the way of the Lord's commandments with new energy.
Someone can make a choice and forget it. Here the choice has hardened into a hold that does not let go, and that is why the psalmist can plead as he does.
He can speak of having chosen the way of truth and of setting God's judgments before him. And not in a passing resolve, but clinging to His testimonies. So he can plead, with confidence, not to be put to shame. In truth, that can never happen to anyone who does this. So the soul assures itself. It gathers up its strength and looks at the way opening up before it. At the same time it is fully convinced that all human powers are too weak to grasp what is divine. So it depends on God entirely in all things.
So what shame does he fear? One writer rules out the obvious answer, the sneering of enemies, and points to God's own judgment instead.
He had chosen the way of truth. "Lord, to whom shall we go?" How simple the path is then! The soul had been steadfast, and another thing went with this. The heart sees that its joys and sorrows are in the hand of God. If it were put to shame, that would be His doing. And He could not put us to shame for keeping His own testimonies. "Put to shame" here does not mean bearing shame from man's mocking. It means being disgraced as someone who comes under judgment.
The prayer is not a report on the strength of the psalmist's hands. Another writer puts the weight on the Lord, not on the one holding on.
So, in clinging to God's testimonies, the heart of the believer may depend on the Lord that he is not put to shame. Running in the way of God's commandments takes energy that is fully decided. It leaves no room for other pursuits, because it depends on God to enlarge the heart (v. 32).
The plea also rests on what the word "testimonies" means.
"Testimonies" have to do with fact and truth. God's facts will assert themselves as facts, and His truth will show itself at last, beyond all argument. Then, at least, reproach and contempt will leave those who have tied themselves to what will one day be seen in its true character.
One writer looks ahead to the day when the Lord appears, and points back to this verse to describe those who held on until then.
The brightness of His appearing has cleared away the foul mists of wickedness and stilled the helpless raging of the godless nations. In this way it confirms the sure testimonies of the Spirit of truth — the testimonies that the faint and weary souls of His afflicted people had held on to through the long night of darkness and rebuke (Ps. 119:31).
- Choose first. The clinging of verse 31 follows a settled decision. He confessed his own way, learned God's way, refused man's way, and chose the way of truth.
- Then hold on. This is not a passing resolve but a grip that stays. The same soul knows how weak human strength is, so it leans on God for everything.
- Then ask. The shame he fears is not man's mocking but God's judgment. And God will not bring that on someone for holding His own testimonies.
- Then wait. God's testimonies are His facts. His truth will show itself at last, and reproach will fall away from everyone who tied their name to it.
- Then run. Clinging is not the finish. The heart set free from heaviness runs the way of His commandments — and even that enlarging is God's to give.
I will run the way of thy commandments when thou shalt enlarge my heart.
This verse closes a section that began with a soul lying in the dust. It ends with a runner. What changed, and who changed it?
The verses just before this one trace a movement, and the running is its last step. One commentator traces those steps and reads the enlarging as a release.
Desiring God's way, the soul prays to be delivered from man's way — the way of lying. He has confessed his way (v. 26), learned God's way (v. 27), refused man's way (v. 29), and chosen God's way (v. 30) — the way of truth. In the confidence that springs from this definite choice of the way of truth, the soul begs the Lord that he may not be put to shame. And being "enlarged," or "set free" from heaviness, he desires with renewed energy to run the way of the Lord's commandments.
The word behind "enlarge" is a word about space. It measures buildings, and Scripture also uses it of a person.
"Breadth" comes from a root meaning "spacious," "roomy." The word appears again and again for the dimensions of the tabernacle and the temple, both in Solomon's day and in the future building described in Ezekiel. It also has a figurative use we know well. So Solomon had great largeness (breadth) of heart (1 Kings 4:29).
The older English "when You shall enlarge" can sound like a deal being struck. Commentators differ over the connecting word. One writer prefers a translation that leaves no room for bargaining.
The Authorised Version here makes us think that the Psalmist is "striking a bargain" with the Lord: "I will … when You …". But a better rendering is: "I will run the way of Your commands, for You shall enlarge my heart". Here we have the Lord's enabling! Everything depends on Him strengthening us! How dependent we are on Him for our daily walk. What a wonderful change has taken place in his soul since verse 25, where we saw him clinging to the dust, so terribly earthbound. But now he is soaring! He is able to run, because his heart has been enlarged — given increased capacity.
Another writer sets confidence and weakness side by side.
So the soul assures itself. It gathers up its strength and looks at the way opening up before it. Yet at the same time it is fully convinced that all human faculties are feeble for grasping divine things — and so that it depends entirely on God in all things.
Obedience can stall. One writer blames the size of the heart, not the commands, and points to a church that made no progress for this reason.
His meditation on the word of God revived his soul. It made him eager not only to walk in God's way, but to run in it. Many who want to run stumble and fail, and seem to lack the spiritual power and energy they need. The Psalmist had discovered the secret of this zeal and energy. "I will run," he says, "when You have enlarged my heart." No one can run in the way of God's commandments if his heart is narrowed and his spiritual affections cramped. The Christians at Corinth made a sad mess of their testimony. They made no progress in the heavenly race, because worldliness and party strife hemmed them in. They had only a feeble grasp of the fullness of the love with which God loved them. They saw little of the breadth and greatness of His interests on earth.
So where does a heart get wider? Not among people, and not by owning more.
We are not likely to get enlarged in the presence of men. It is not what people see in one another, nor what they see in this grasping world, that will enlarge the heart. Whatever a man may own of this world, he is always grasping after more. He is never satisfied. It is only in the presence of God, only as we are occupied with His love, that we become enlarged.
The enlarged heart runs with eagerness and freedom. One writer links that to knowing who your deliverer is.
People are not delivered, there is no motive outside of self, no liberty. What a wonderful thing it is when I can say, "This is my deliverer, who took me out of the quagmire." Then I can take up the words of the Psalmist: "I will run in the way of Your commandments when You enlarge my heart." Look at the eagerness of his heart, the liberty, the freedom he is enjoying!
- Cause — This verse ends a section that started with a soul in the dust. Confession, teaching and a settled choice of God's way come before any running.
- Word — "Enlarge" means spacious and roomy. The same word measures the tabernacle, and it describes Solomon's large heart.
- Gift — The enlarging is God's work, not a bargain. Everything depends on His strengthening.
- Reach — A narrow heart cannot run. Worldliness and party strife cramped the Corinthians, and they made no progress.
- Result — Hearts widen in God's presence, taken up with His love. Then the heart runs His way with freedom.
HE. Teach me, O Jehovah, the way of thy statutes, and I will observe it [unto] the end.
This verse opens the fifth section of Psalm 119. At this point the writer stops announcing what he will do and starts asking God to work in him. The prayer is simple — teach me. But a promise comes with it, and commentators tie the teaching closely to the keeping.
One writer marks a change of tone at this point in the psalm.
These last verses look for grasp of the ways of God's precepts, so that the heart is taught in the middle of sorrow. Here it is more about keeping and observing it in his path. Otherwise the first three portions were his own resolutions; here it is the demand for God's teaching. For the heart, true in its resolutions, then turns to God. It may turn first with its sorrows, but then for guidance and dependence on Him. We need His teaching even when the will is right. We need understanding from Him, and His help too.
Psalm 119 uses several different words for God's law, each with its own shade. Two of them meet in this one verse — "way" and "statutes."
Several words are used, each meaning the law, but seen from different points of view. … Statute (Choq)—decreed limit. … Way (Derek)—trodden path.
So he asks for a path already marked out and already walked, not for a theory.
The psalmist does not ask for information. He asks to be taught the way so that he can walk in it, holding nothing back. One writer also looks closely at the closing words, "to the end."
He must be taught the way of His statutes. He looks for this as meaning to walk in it, and to walk in it without any mental reservation. Such a reservation is the utter opposite of obedience. It is the leaven of unbelief, and wherever it is found it will leaven the whole life. "I will keep it to the end," says the psalmist; or "to the heel" — the lowest and least noticed part.
The next verse asks for something more than teaching. A person can hear instruction and still not take it in.
(vv. 33-34) The desire of the soul to be taught by the Lord the way of His statutes — "Teach me, O Lord." Teaching, however, is not enough. We need the opened heart as well as the opened Scriptures. So comes the prayer, "Give me understanding."
One writer joins the "end" of this verse to the "whole heart" of the next verse. He finds no slavery in that kind of obedience.
"Give me discernment," he says again in his earnestness, "and I shall keep your law; yes, I shall observe it with my whole heart." These two things, the "whole heart" and "to the end," go naturally together. And again he affirms in the next verse: "therein is my delight." So there is no slavery here. The man who is held by his affections is the freest man possible; and so it is here.
The road to the end runs through hard places. The psalmist expects them and still means to keep going.
He is determined to be obedient right to the end. Life has many difficulties and discouragements. But whatever the problems, obeying God and His word is what matters to him. He is determined to keep it until God chooses to take him away.
A prayer to be taught is also an admission. It admits we do not already know the way well enough.
All these verses express his desire to be taught, to receive light and illumination from the Lord. So let us not be wise in our own eyes, or think we know better than the Lord, but repeat with the Psalmist, "Teach me, O Lord, the way of Your statutes…"
- Ask, don't resolve. Earlier in the psalm the writer states his own resolutions. Here the true heart turns from resolve to God and asks Him to teach.
- Way and statute. A statute is a decreed limit and a way is a trodden path. He asks for a route to walk, not information to hold.
- Taught to walk. He asks to be taught so that he can walk in it, holding nothing back. A mental reservation is the opposite of obedience, and it spreads like leaven.
- Heart as well as Scripture. Teaching alone is not enough. The next verse asks for understanding: we need an opened heart along with opened Scriptures.
- To the end, to the heel. "Whole heart" and "to the end" belong together. The man held by his affections is the freest man there is. He keeps going through every difficulty, until God takes him.
Give me understanding, and I will observe thy law; and I will keep it with [my] whole heart.
The psalmist does not promise obedience here. He asks for it. He asks God for the understanding that makes obedience possible, and ties that gift to a kept law and an undivided heart. The verse stands between two other prayers: "Teach me" comes before it, and a prayer to be led comes after.
The previous verse already asked to be taught. This one asks for something more inward — a capacity to receive what is taught.
(vv. 33-34) The soul longs for the Lord to teach it the way of His statutes — "Teach me, O Lord." But teaching is not enough. We need the opened heart as well as the opened Scriptures. So comes the prayer, "Give me understanding" (compare Luke 24:27, 45; 2 Timothy 2:7).
Notice what the psalmist wants understanding for. He is not collecting information. He asks so that he may obey.
Here the psalmist lays his need of the Lord's teaching before Him, so that he may obey and be kept.
The second half of the verse adds two words that change everything: whole heart. Verse 33 adds "to the end." Together the two phrases rule out a divided heart now and a fading one later. This is no burden. It is the mark of a free man.
"Give me understanding," he says again in his earnestness, "that I may keep your law and observe it with my whole heart." These two things, the "whole heart" and "to the end," belong together. And he says again in the next verse: "I delight in it." So there is no slavery here. The man whose affections compel him is the freest man possible, and that is the case here.
Commentators differ on how to read "your law" here. Some take it as the law given through Moses, kept by a heart God has taught. Others see a different law in view.
If God is really the teacher, we can be sure He will teach us in such a way that we keep His statutes steadily, right to the end (v. 33). In His presence we find understanding that enables us to keep His law — that is, the law of liberty, not the law of Moses. In fact, the whole heart will share in observing this much-loved law (v. 34).
The same writer explains why one command feels like bondage and another feels like freedom.
The law of Sinai was written on tablets of stone; it wrote nothing on the heart. It told men what to do but gave them no desire or power to obey it. To be commanded to do what I have no desire to do is bondage, even if I obey. Now the word of God gives us a perfect revelation of the will of God. By that same word God has also given us a new nature, and this new nature delights to act according to the word. To be commanded to do what I desire to do is liberty.
The verse has a living example in King Josiah. He had already cleared idols out of the temple once. Then the book of the law came to light, and the second clearing went deeper than the first.
These shocking, detestable things were still in the house where the Lord had set His name. That suggests the first cleansing was not very thorough. The second cleansing cleared every vile thing out. But why was the second cleansing more thorough than the first? Because the book of the law had come to light between the two moves. Now the King, at least, saw how hideous the long-tolerated things really were. He now had divine understanding to keep the law, and he sought to observe it with his whole heart (Ps. 119:34).
Verse 34 stands in the middle of three prayers, and their order matters.
(v. 35) We also depend on the Lord for any practical result that may follow His teaching. So the next prayer is, "Lead me in the path of your commandments." Every believer does well to pray these three prayers, and in their God-given order: "Teach me, O Lord," "Give me understanding," and "Lead me in the path."
- Ask — The psalmist does not achieve understanding. He asks for it, laying his need of teaching before God so that he may obey and be kept.
- Receive — An opened Bible is not enough without an opened heart. "Give me understanding" asks for the second.
- Obey — He asks for understanding so that he can keep the law. Josiah shows the pattern: the book came to light, and a half-hearted reform became a thorough one.
- Whole — "Whole heart" and "to the end" belong together; a heart divided today is a heart that quits tomorrow.
- Free — Being told to do what you have no desire to do is bondage. Being told to do what you already desire is liberty. The man ruled by his own affections is the freest man alive.
Make me to walk in the path of thy commandments; for therein do I delight.
Psalm 119:35 is a prayer for something the writer already wants: for God to move him along the path he loves. That raises the question the whole psalm keeps asking — if a person delights in God's commandments, why does he still need God to make him walk in them?
The verses just before this one ask for teaching and for understanding. This verse adds a third prayer, and one writer notes that the order matters.
(v. 35) We are also dependent on the Lord for any practical results that may follow divine teaching. So the prayer follows, "Make me to go." Every saint does well to pray these three prayers, and in the order God gives them: "Teach me, O Lord," "Give me understanding," and "Make me to go."
Older translations read "Make me to go," which shows even more plainly that God is the one who moves him.
The request itself is a confession.
Verse 35 makes it clear again that the psalmist cannot trust his own energy. He wants God to make him walk in the path of His commandments. Of course, if we ask for this, we should have the settled purpose of heart to submit to God's working. And delighting in the path is only normal for a believer.
Asking God to move you does not turn you into a passenger.
It is my duty to keep yielding myself to the teaching of the Spirit. I must offer every part of myself to Him as an instrument of righteousness. We are not robots programmed to go through certain motions automatically. "For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Phil. 2:13). God's side always comes first, but man's side and responsibility are just as real. If He is going to "Make me to go … ", I must make it my delight to do His bidding!
Another writer asks what we do with the light we already have.
We have "the word of the Lord." Are we bringing our consciences to it — not asking for more light or more power, but for more honest, holy obedience to what we know? Are we simply doing, in all our weakness, what God teaches us is right? If I am waiting for more power before I work out what it is His will I should do, I am denying that He is working in me to do it by His power — to will and to do.
The reason he gives — "for I delight in it" — changes the whole character of the walk he asks for.
And here he affirms again, "for I delight in it." So there is no slavery. A man driven by his affections is the freest man there is.
Delight in commandments is not the natural human response to them. One writer traces the change to the heart, not to effort.
It is all a question of the heart. You can see the principle in Psalm 27:8: "You have said, 'Seek my face.' My heart says to you, 'Your face, LORD, do I seek.'" The natural heart finds the law an unbearable burden. "A new heart" (Ezek. 36:26) finds it a delight. No fewer than 184 times, under different names, the writer pours out his deep joy and delight.
The same writer names what kind of road this is.
In this Psalm it is not the law of bondage, condemnation and death, but "the trodden path" of delight that the renewed man longs to take.
One writer sets David beside Saul, and gathers this verse with others like it to show what a man after God's own heart sounds like.
Jehovah brought forward the "man after His own heart." Psalm 119 shows how different David was from Saul: "Lead me in the path of your commandments, for I delight in it" (Ps. 119:35). "I will delight myself in your commandments, which I love" (Ps. 119:47). "I love your commandments above gold, above fine gold" (Ps. 119:127). Oh, that there were such a spirit in both the reader and the writer of these pages!
- Taught — the prayer comes third in an order: teach me, give me understanding, make me to go. Light must become walking.
- Made — the request admits the writer cannot trust his own energy; God must move him along the road.
- Yielded — God works in us to will and to do, yet we are not robots; obedience to what we already know is our part.
- Delighted — the reason given is love for the path, and a man ruled by his affections is the freest man alive.
- Renewed — the natural heart finds commandments a burden. A new heart finds them a delight, and that is the mark of a heart after God.
Incline my heart unto thy testimonies, and not to gain.
The psalmist does not promise to bend his own heart — he asks God to bend it for him. That admits the heart already leans somewhere — and not toward God's testimonies. (The ESV says "selfish gain." Older translations say "covetousness," and the writers quoted below use that older word.)
This verse sits inside a run of prayers, and the order matters. One writer traces three steps: being taught, then understanding, then walking. He quotes the earlier prayers in older wording:
Further, we are dependent on the Lord for any practical results that may follow divine teaching. So the prayer follows, "Make me to go." Every saint does well to pray these three prayers, and in their God-given order: "Teach me, O Lord," then "Give me understanding," then "Make me to go."
Teaching alone does not produce a changed walk. Knowing the way and going in it are not the same thing.
So why does the heart need bending? One writer points to what we are by nature, and to the re-schooling that follows new birth:
Are we really sincere and determined about following the Lord, doing His will, obeying His Word? By nature we are all rebels, only thinking of ourselves and doing our own will. That is why he prays: "not to covetousness." Now that we are born of God and have His Spirit living within, we need re-schooling — we need to learn His will. Now we can see the need for this prayer: "Incline my heart…"
Verse 36 does not stand alone. Read with the next verse, it names two threats, and one commentator sets them side by side:
Following these prayers, the psalmist remembers the two great hindrances to a walk of practical godliness. One is the root of evil within — covetousness. The other is the pull toward evil from outside — the empty things on every side. The godly man prays that God will keep his heart from covetousness, and his eyes from looking at empty things.
If God must incline the heart, what is the man himself doing? One writer answers by looking at the act of praying:
Yet he says, "Incline my heart," on the one side, and on the other, "turn away my eyes from beholding vanity." He has his heart inclined when he says, incline it. He is turning away his eyes when he prays to have it done. But he knows how much weakness clings to him, and he longs to be wholly right with God. So his heart can find rest only in this perfect Will and Wisdom, to which he commits himself.
The sin named here is easy to miss, because it looks respectable. One commentator strips away the disguise:
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 recommends, from the mechanic to the millionaire. So the creature becomes the object, not God. That is why covetousness is called idolatry. It is man looking down, not up in dependence on God.
That is why the verse pairs the two directions. A heart bent toward gain is bent away from God.
The verse does not only say no to gain. It names what should fill the heart instead. One writer explains what God's testimonies do:
Here God's testimonies have their place: they bring in the light that reveals, and that light can never make an evil thing look golden.
Another writer ties that to the psalmist's own strength:
It is evident in verse 35 that the psalmist cannot trust his own energy, for he desires that God will make him walk in the path of His commandments. Of course, if we ask for this, we should certainly have the purpose of heart to submit to God's working. Delighting in the path is only normal for a believer. So God is also asked to oversee where the heart leans: toward His testimonies, and not toward covetousness (v. 36). Only those testimonies will keep us from selfishness.
- Bend — The verse is a request, not a vow. The psalmist asks God to tilt his heart. He cannot trust his own energy to walk the path he delights in.
- Rebel — The heart needs bending because its natural bent runs the other way: thinking of ourselves and doing our own will.
- Gain — Covetousness is simply the desire for more. In it the creature becomes the object instead of God: man looking down, not up in dependence.
- Guard — Verse 36 names the evil root inside, verse 37 the empty things all around. The psalmist asks God to guard his heart and his eyes.
- Turning — He has his heart inclined the moment he asks. The prayer itself is the movement, and God's testimonies fill the space selfishness wanted.
Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity; quicken me in thy way.
Psalm 119:37 sits inside a run of short prayers where the writer asks God to do in him what he cannot do for himself. He asks for two things — a guard on his eyes, and fresh life — which raises a question: why does a man who loves God's law need God to turn his own eyes away?
The prayer just before this one asks God to bend the heart the right way. Together the two verses name what spoils a godly walk.
After these requests, the psalmist remembers the two great obstacles to a godly walk in practice. There is the root of evil inside — covetousness. And there is the pull toward evil from outside, the empty things on every side. The godly man prays that God would keep his heart from covetousness, and his eyes from looking at empty things.
Another writer sharpens the difference. Covetousness bends the will. The empty things around us just pull the mind off course.
The heart wants to lean the right way too, but that root of all evil turns it aside — covetousness. The same is true of empty things, but these are all around us. They do not come from the leaning of the heart. They distract, and lead the mind away from God to folly.
The prayer names the eyes because what the eye takes in does not stop there.
With the eye you can look either at what is good or at what is evil, and what you look at affects the heart. So avoid looking at improper sights. The psalmist prayed, "Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things." He feared the effect. The righteous person deliberately shuts his eyes so that he may not see what is evil (Isa. 33:15). If evil gets in through the gate of the eye, it has a clear road to the heart.
Even an accidental glance can start the damage. So the psalmist asks God to post a guard.
The smallest event in your life may turn into a chance to sin. A great sin often gets in through a tiny gate! David's eye only casually fell on Bathsheba, and the good man's foot was straight away in the devil's trap. Do you not then need to pray that God would set a guard around your senses wherever you go?
The prayer is strange if you press it: a man asks to have his eyes turned while he is in the act of turning them.
He has his heart inclined when he says, incline it. He is turning away his eyes when he prays to have it done. But he knows how much weakness clings to him, and he wants to be wholly right with God. So his heart can only rest in this perfect Will and Wisdom. He commits himself to it: "give me life," he pleads, "in Your way."
Commentators differ on where the weight falls. One puts it on God's action. Another insists the prayer does not cancel our own responsibility.
Here again, the Lord will not do for us what we must do for ourselves. Paul tells us: "make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires" (Rom. 13:14). Someone has said that it is the "second look" that is sin. He meant this: when you walk down the street, you may see something unclean, like a pornographic picture. You cannot help that. But when you stop, or turn to look again, that is deliberate.
Older translations read "quicken me" here. So what is a man who already has life asking for?
The Psalmist says in verse 50 that God's Word has given him life, yet again and again he asks for life. Here the word plainly means being revived, being restored to stronger life.
If someone needs reviving, something has already gone wrong. Some translations end the verse "revive me in Your way." The New Testament also gives the eyes something better to look at.
We need God to work in our lives and turn our eyes away from worthless things. The eye affects the heart. The New Testament provides a beautiful positive to take the place of the negative in this verse: "looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith" (Heb. 12:2). The last phrase, "and revive me in Your way," surely shows that there has been failure needing revival. The eyes have been drawn away by worthless things, which can all too easily attract us.
- Two fronts. Covetousness pulls the heart from inside. Empty things pull it from outside. Verse 36 meets the first, verse 37 the second.
- The eye is a gate. What enters through the eye has a clear road to the heart — David's glance at Bathsheba is the warning case.
- Pray it while doing it. The man who asks God to turn his eyes is already turning them. He prays because he knows he is weak, not because he does nothing.
- Guard the second look. The first sight may be unavoidable; stopping to look again is deliberate, and that is where sin begins.
- Revival, not birth. "Give me life" here asks God to restore vigorous life — and the cure for a wandering eye is a better object: Jesus.
Establish thy word unto thy servant, who is [devoted] to thy fear.
Psalm 119:38 sits in the fifth section of the psalm (verses 33–40), where every line is a request rather than a statement. It asks God to make His own word stand firm in the life of one servant, and it ties that request to the fear of God.
The verses before this one ask for teaching, for understanding, and for the strength to walk. One writer notes that their order matters.
Every believer does well to pray these three prayers, and in their God-given order: "Teach me O Lord," "Give me understanding," and "Make me to go."
Verse 38 follows two dangers: the pull of gain inside and the pull of empty things outside (vv. 36–37).
Kept in this way from evil inside and empty things outside, he prays that God would establish him in the truth. He asks to be devoted to God, to walk in His fear, and to be kept from giving any cause for reproach.
One writer gives the Hebrew word behind the request:
Verse 38: HA-KOOM … "Make rise … (or establish, confirm)"
Another writer takes the request as asking God to back His word with action in one person's life.
The second part is still an appeal, but in a different way: that God, as a living God, would confirm His Word by His deed, and so answer the faith of His people in a glorious way… There are also special promises that bring Him still nearer to the individual, and into the most hidden lives. This runs through the experience of these psalms; and here is the very place to find it spoken of — in the fifth section of this great psalm of experience.
The same writer adds a note on the wording, and on the state of the one praying:
"Establish Your saying to Your servant" would then be a prayer for the fulfillment of a specific promise. The one praying may bring his own state forward as something that does not, at least, bar the claim of faith. "Devoted" is perhaps too strong a word to add, since the text has only the preposition. But it is enough to note that it has been added, and the difficulty goes.
Older translations end the verse "your servant, who is devoted to your fear," while the ESV has "that you may be feared." Commentators differ over how much weight "devoted" should carry, since translators supply the word.
The request is not for a fresh burst of feeling but for something that stays.
Then follows the deeply needed request, "Establish Your Word to Your servant" (v. 38). Scripture should not be only an occasional enjoyment. It should be so deeply settled in our souls that it becomes our constant source of instruction, correction and guidance — and especially so for one who is devoted to fearing God.
Someone unsettled in the word will move with whoever speaks last.
There must be a fixed purpose in our hearts. "So that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes" (Eph. 4:14). The more we are "rooted and grounded" in the Word of God, the less open we are to deception. There is no excuse for ignorance of the Word… So it is the responsibility of every believer to read and study the Word, so that he may be well-grounded and well-established in it.
The second half of the verse gives the reason the request is made at all.
"Your servant, who is devoted to Your fear" is the motivation for seeking to be established in the Word of God. We do not want to grieve the Lord, or the Holy Spirit. The fear of the Lord also means this: if we disobey, we should fear the discipline that is sure to follow, because we are children of our Father.
That fear is not terror of God:
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 hatred of evil" (Prov. 8:13). "The fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever." Where we keep this fear, the presence of the Lord is a reality and a joy.
- Order. The prayers stack: teach me, give me understanding, make me go — and only then, establish me.
- Establish. The word means to make rise, to confirm; it asks the living God to back His promise with His deed in one ordinary life.
- Constant. Scripture should teach, correct and guide us all the time, not now and then.
- Stability. A believer rooted in the word is not tossed about by every wind of doctrine, so reading and studying it is each believer's own responsibility.
- Fear. The motive behind the whole request is reverent trust that hates evil and will not grieve the Lord.
Turn away my reproach which I fear; for thy judgments are good.
This verse is a short prayer about shame. The psalmist asks God to take away a reproach he dreads, and he gives his reason: God's rules are good. It sits in a run of requests that ask God to guard him from evil inside and from empty things outside.
The verses just before this one form a chain of requests, each one admitting a further layer of helplessness. One writer sets them out in the order they come.
Further we are dependent upon the Lord for any practical results that may follow divine teaching. So the prayer follows, "Make me to go." Well indeed for every saint to pray these three prayers, and in their divine order, "Teach me O Lord," "Give me understanding," and "Make me to go."
By the time verse 39 arrives, the two great obstacles have already been named and prayed against, and this request completes the set.
So he is kept from evil within and from empty things without. Now he prays that God would settle him in the truth, and make him devoted to God, walking in His fear, and keep him from giving any cause for reproach in himself. Knowing that God's judgments are good, the godly man longs deeply for the Lord's precepts, and wants to be given energy for the path of righteousness.
The verse does not hide the emotion. The psalmist names the fear instead of denying it, and puts the matter in hands stronger than his own. (Where the ESV says "rules," the older translation these writers quote says "judgments.")
As well as asking God to turn his eyes away from empty things, he now asks God to turn away his reproach. Reproach comes from others, of course. He admits he dreads it, and he can only depend on the Lord to cancel it (v. 39). "For Your judgments are good" in contrast to the reproachful judgments of the ungodly.
Commentators differ on the source of the reproach. One reading takes the Hebrew word as "shame" and turns the fear inward. The fear is not of being mocked. It is the fear of doing something that would disgrace God's name.
The literal rendering from the Hebrew is: "Turn away my shame which I fear …". The psalmist may have thought that he might do some evil act, some unfaithfulness, that would bring shame on the Name of the Lord as well as on himself. So he asks the Lord to keep him from this. Paul expresses a similar thought in Philippians 1:20: "as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body". What Paul feared was this: under pressure from the Lord's enemies, he might in some measure deny the Lord's claims and so dishonour Him. This is indeed a prayer we would do well to pray daily!
The same writer sorts scorn into two kinds. One a believer should accept. The other he should pray against.
No doubt those who do not fear God, and even deny His existence, will ridicule us and mock us and reproach us! It is not easy or pleasant for a believer to realise that if he wants to be faithful he may not be popular. There is definite reproach attached to being a disciple of Jesus Christ. This may be a healthy fear! Perhaps he asks here that he might not suffer reproach for holding to the Word of God. But reproach suffered for righteousness is something to rejoice in.
The second half of the verse is not a change of subject. The reason the psalmist gives points to the taunt behind the reproach.
This verse, by the reason it gives — "for your judgments are good" — shows that the reproach has to do with some apparent failure of these judgments to show themselves in the way God governs men. Enemies often throw such reproaches at the Lord's people: "Where is their God?" (Ps. 115:2.) But the heart of the psalmist knows the goodness of these "judgments" — the decisions about good and evil. In the day of God's patience, His dealings with men do not always seem to confirm them.
The same writer notes that this puzzle was heavier before the cross, and that it lies behind an old and famous argument.
Under the Old Testament dispensation; this was necessarily a much greater enigma than since the cross; and it is the occasion of much of the misapprehension of the friends of Job. With the enemies of the believer it is always a favorite reproach against him.
- Faithful, not popular. Following Jesus carries real reproach; a believer who wants to be faithful may find he is not popular.
- Kept in, kept out, kept clean. Verse 39 completes a set: kept from evil inside, kept from empty things outside, kept from giving anyone cause to reproach him.
- Named, not hidden. The psalmist admits he dreads the reproach. Then he leaves it with the Lord. He names the fear instead of hiding it.
- Two shames, one prayer. Reproach for doing right is something to rejoice in. The shame worth praying against is unfaithfulness that would dishonour God's name. That was Paul's own fear in Philippians 1:20.
- Good rules answer the taunt. The mockery runs, "Where is their God?" — as if God's decisions never come true. The psalmist's reply is that they are good, whatever the delay looks like.
Behold, I have longed after thy precepts quicken me in thy righteousness.
Verse 40 closes a section of Psalm 119 that begins at verse 33. In it the writer asks to be taught, given understanding, and made to walk. Now he points to the one thing he can show God: his own longing. And he asks for life on the ground of God's righteousness.
The word that opens the verse points at something. The psalmist has already prayed to have his heart inclined and his eyes turned away from worthless things; now he lays his desire itself before God as the surest plea he has.
But the third verse takes ground that seems clearer and surer. How can God fail to answer the longing of a heart after His precepts, when that heart feels the drag of earth and pleads against it? The appeal is more confident to that degree, however lowly it is by nature: "in your righteousness give me life."
Notice which word he chooses. A precept is a charge God lays on us, and longing for that is more than human.
This whole section of eight verses has shown us our own nothingness and helplessness. This should not be a passing, emotional feeling. It should be what we realise all the time! Here he expresses that sense of need again: "… in your righteousness give me life." This is a confession of felt weakness. It admits our need for God to give us life and to strengthen us with might by His Spirit in our inner being. To say, "I long for your promises," would be quite human. But he says, "I long for your precepts." We remember from the introduction that the meaning of the word "precept" is: a charge given to us by God for which we are responsible. We must always remember that privileges are inseparable from responsibilities.
Longing of this kind shows itself in how a person spends his hours.
He has an intense desire for God's word. It is that important to him and gives him so much pleasure that he is always wanting God's word — he longs for it. I can imagine him, as he goes about his busy schedule, fervently wishing that he had more time to spend with his Scriptures. We have already seen that he meditates on God's word through the night.
The prayer is not for new birth. It asks for practical power in someone already alive toward God.
He sought deliverance, no doubt, but he loves the word itself. In the soul these things go together… Still he looked to God with a true heart, and in distress, as we shall too — so did Christ Himself, in order to be heard. He looked according to the kindness of Jehovah. But he also longed for God to work with power in him, and to give him life according to the mind of God. That is, a life whose nature and desires match God's judgment. He does not speak as a dead man. He speaks of being made alive in the way he lives. We know it must be a new life.
He does not point to his own record. He points to what God is, and to what God must therefore do. That is a step beyond the earlier prayers here.
The heart was right. It longed for God's precepts. It looked to the Lord for liveliness of heart, for the energy of a renewed will, and for freedom from distraction. All this comes through the faithfulness of God — that consistency with His own goodness and favour which we can count on in Him. "In your righteousness give me life." This assumes a growing knowledge of God, so that we can count on Him… but the last words here show a deeper intimacy of faith. That faith counts on what God must be.
Read with verses 33 to 35, this closing prayer completes a sequence worth copying.
We are also dependent on the Lord for any practical results that may follow divine teaching. So the prayer follows, "Make me to go." It is well indeed for every saint to pray these three prayers, and in their divine order: "Teach me, O Lord," "Give me understanding," and "Make me to go."
The last verse gathers up the section: kept from evil inside and emptiness outside, he asks for the energy to walk.
In the knowledge that God's judgments are good, the godly man, with deep longing after the Lord's precepts, desires to be energized in the path of righteousness.
- Longing. He pleads his desire for God's precepts. Longing for a charge laid on us, not just for a promise, is more than human.
- Weakness. That longing rests on an honest confession of helplessness. It should be constant, not occasional.
- Life. "Give me life" asks for power to live by the mind of God. It is the prayer of a man who is weak, not dead.
- Righteousness. He asks on the ground of God's consistency with Himself. Faith learns to count on what God must be.
- Order. Pray as he does: teach me, give me understanding, make me go.
VAU. And let thy loving-kindness come unto me, O Jehovah, -- thy salvation according to thy word.
The sixth section of Psalm 119 opens with a request, not a resolve. The psalmist asks for God's mercies and His salvation, and he measures both by one phrase: "according to your promise." What should a believer under pressure ask for, and on what ground?
He asks for a taste of God's kindness, and he asks for it with a purpose in view.
He next asks for a taste of the grace of the Lord, of His salvation as it is expressed here, so that there may be courage and faithfulness.
The verse names two things, and they are not the same. One is many; the other is single and complete.
Here we find the many mercies of the Lord, as well as His one great salvation, as the basis of the confidence of the child of God (v. 41). So, by God's Word, he will overcome the reproaches of men. This Word is his only source of help. So it is understandable that he never wants that Word taken out of his mouth (v. 43).
Read the whole psalm and one thing is missing: any hint of a second option. The writer never glances sideways for help.
Notice here that all through there is no thought of looking, in difficulty or trial, to anything but God. He seeks help to keep the law and deliverance from trial because of it. But there is not the smallest idea of turning anywhere else. It does not even occur to the faithful man. This is true integrity of heart. God in truth, God in His will, God in mercy, God Himself as the object of the heart — but he seeks only God, nothing outside or away from Him. He looks for His mercies, and that is right, and for deliverance from Him, and this according to His word. For He has fully revealed Himself, and we want nothing short of Him. What an answer His deliverance will be to the enemy who reproaches!
The phrase is not decoration. It sets both the limit and the confidence of the prayer. He asks only for what God has already said. Older translations render the phrase "according to your word."
The soul of the psalmist leans on the promise of God while it waits for a salvation which is still future. From the Word it trusts, it gathers confidence to answer the reproaches of the enemy. He knows God's word to be the "word of truth." He prays that it may never be taken out of his mouth completely, weak as he may be in standing for it. For he waits in hope for His judgments to show themselves.
The reproach in view is a specific taunt: that God has abandoned him. Deliverance would be the reply.
The psalmist looks to the Lord for deliverance from his enemies according to the Word. In this way there will be an answer to those who reproach him with being forsaken by God.
The psalmist could only wait for the salvation he names here. Christians look back on a work already done, and the ground of the prayer has not changed.
The first part here rests all its assurance on the Lord's sufficiency, and this stays the same through every age… For the psalmist it was the "saying of God," the "word of God," the "word of truth," on which he rested. For us today it is the same. For him too, that word revealed the Lord's "loving-kindness," and a promised "salvation," for which he waited. And we wait in the same way today. But we have a salvation worked out by Another for us, about which we can say, in a sense no Israelite could, "He has saved us."
Settled salvation does not end the asking. This verse asks in the present tense, and it fits the whole Christian life.
This is what the psalmist realises: his constant need for mercies and salvation. It is the same for the Christian. We have been saved and we are being saved. We have experienced God's grace and mercy, and we continue to need His mercies every day. The writer in these verses is afraid that the Lord might in any degree hold back His favour from him. This is a needless fear for the true Christian. We may become unfaithful, but He stays faithful; He cannot deny Himself.
- Ask. The section opens by asking for God's mercies and salvation. Grace comes first; courage and faithfulness follow.
- Ask on the promise. "According to your promise" is the ground of the prayer; he leans on what God has said, and asks for nothing beyond it.
- Ask God alone. Through the whole psalm he never looks to a second source of help. One writer calls that single-mindedness true integrity of heart.
- Ask for the answer. The deliverance he asks for is the reply to those who taunt him that God has left him.
- Ask daily. He waited for a salvation still to come. We can say, "He has saved us." Yet we need His mercies every day, and His faithfulness never fails.
So shall I have wherewith to answer him that reproacheth me; for I confide in thy word.
Enemies mock the psalmist. His reply is not a clever comeback but a settled trust in what God has said. Two questions follow: what silences scorn, and where does the courage to speak come from?
The taunt here is not random abuse. It is aimed at the psalmist's faith itself — the claim that God has abandoned him. He asks God to act so that the accusation collapses.
The psalmist looks to the Lord for deliverance from his enemies according to the Word. So there will be an answer to those who reproach him with being forsaken of God.
Older translations render this taunt as "reproach," and the word is strong. One writer looks past the people who speak the scorn to the source behind it.
Here we are told who the psalmist wants to answer: "him who taunts me." In Hebrew the verb "reproach" has the sense of scorn, fault-finding, and reproach. We all know that the Bible describes Satan as the accuser of the brothers (Rev. 12:10). Satan uses human beings also to inflict scorn on their fellow men. Unbelievers may scorn and mock the believer, or ask him "tricky" questions.
Notice the order in the verse: he does not say he has won, or that the pressure has lifted. He says he trusts — and the answer grows out of that.
The psalmist's soul leans on the promise of God while it waits for a salvation that is still future. It gathers confidence from the Word it trusts, so that it can answer the reproaches of the enemy. He knows God's word to be the "word of truth." He prays that it may not be taken completely out of his mouth, weak as he may be in standing for it. He waits in hope for His judgments to be shown.
So the rescue he asks for and the reply he gives are two sides of one thing.
Loving kindness from the Lord is salvation for His people, and His answer to those who reproach them. With the word of truth in the mouth, and the feet in the path of God's will, the godly enjoy divine liberty.
The verse before this one asks for God's mercy and salvation. That plea is not separate from the answer here. It is what makes the answer possible.
Next he longs for the taste of the grace of the Lord, of His salvation as expressed here, to give him courage and faithfulness.
God's word is not one help among many. It is his only help, and so he dreads losing it.
Here the many mercies of the Lord, and His one great salvation, form the basis of the confidence of the child of God (v. 41). So, by God's Word, he will overcome the reproaches of men. This Word being his only source of help, it is understandable that he wants that Word never to be taken out of his mouth (v. 43). It is by this that he answers his oppressors, and his only hope is in the ordinances of God.
The same confidence that answers a mocker does not stop with him.
Sure of the Lord's salvation, he now becomes a witness both to the one who reproaches him and before kings.
One writer links this readiness to reply with Peter's instruction to believers, and with the manner it must take.
The verse continues to tell us that it is only as "I trust in Your Word" that the psalmist is able "to answer". Here then is another secret of victory over the enemy. Peter writes: "but in your hearts honour Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defence to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect" (1 Peter 3:15).
- Mercy first. The verse before asks for God's steadfast love and salvation. That taste of grace supplies the courage to speak.
- Trust next. He leans on the promise while the rescue is still ahead. His confidence comes from the Word, not from relief already given.
- Answer then. The taunt is that God has forsaken him. God's kindness to His people is itself the reply to everyone who sneers.
- One weapon only. The Word is his only source of help. So he pleads to keep it in his mouth — lose it and the answer is gone.
- Then kings. The same assurance that answers a mocker carries him before kings. Peter names the manner: gentleness and respect.
And take not the word of truth utterly out of my mouth; because I have hoped in thy judgments.
Enemies scorn the psalmist and say God has left him, and his only answer is the word he begs God not to take from his mouth. What loss does he fear, and why does he tie that prayer to hope in God's judgments?
He asks God to rescue him in line with what God has promised. That rescue would itself answer the men who call him forsaken.
The psalmist looks to the Lord for deliverance from his enemies according to the Word. In this way there will be an answer to those who reproach him with being forsaken by God. He had put his trust in God's Word; if God abandoned him, the word of truth would be utterly taken out of his mouth. He would have no answer to the reproaches of the wicked. He has confidence in delivering grace, for his hope is in God's judgments.
The fear is not that Scripture would turn out to be false. It is that he would no longer be in a position to stand behind it — and the fear itself is a measure of how much he prizes it.
The soul has taken the word as coming from God, delighted in it, trusted it, and held it before the wicked as something it had from God. God's word is what reveals Him. Not only does it reveal Him, it is the very thing that does so. Had God abandoned the faithful one, as fear would lead him to expect, the word would have been taken out of his mouth. Yet he does not doubt the truth of the word, or that it is God's testimony. His fear is that he would no longer be allowed to vouch for it by faith. He fears this because he values it.
The salvation he waits for is still ahead of him, and he knows he may be weak in standing for the word.
The psalmist's soul leans on the promise of God while it waits for a salvation that is still to come. From the Word it trusts, it draws confidence to answer the enemy's reproaches. He knows God's word to be the "word of truth." So he prays that it may never be taken completely out of his mouth, weak as he may be in standing for it. He waits in hope for God's judgments to appear.
Believers today rest on the same word, but one thing has changed.
For the psalmist it was the "saying of God," the "word of God," the "word of truth," on which he rested; and for us today it is the same. For him also, that word revealed Jehovah's "loving-kindness," and a pledged "salvation," for which he waited; and so do we wait today. But we have a salvation worked out by Another for us, about which we can say, in a sense no Israelite could, "He has saved us."
His hope rests on God acting in line with what He has already said. Where the ESV says "rules," older translations say "judgments."
Here the faithful one has hoped in God's judgments — God acting on what has gone out of His mouth. God acts in keeping with how He has revealed Himself in His word, and this enabled him to keep that word for ever.
Another writer reads the same line as a man with nothing else to fall back on.
This Word is his only source of help. So it makes sense that he wants it never to be taken out of his mouth (v. 43). It is by this that he answers his oppressors.
Being ready with an answer takes preparation, and sin in the life takes the answer away.
He dreads the possibility that for some reason he would not have a word to answer: "… the word of truth … out of my mouth". Only daily experience of fellowship with the Lord and study of His Word will prepare us to be His witnesses. Sin in the life would take away our testimony. Sometimes, even when we are out of fellowship with the Lord, we may try to cover up and keep testifying. But there is no power and no conviction. Those who oppose us may even say: "Your actions speak so loud that I cannot hear what you say".
- Reproach — The setting is scorn from enemies who say God has abandoned him; the word in his mouth is his only answer to them.
- Word — What he asks to keep is "the word of truth," the same ground believers rest on now, though we can say of our salvation, "He has saved us."
- Removal — Losing the word from his mouth is not losing confidence that it is true, but losing the standing to back it by faith; he dreads it because he treasures it.
- Judgments — His hope is that God will act on what God has spoken, and that expectation is what keeps him holding the word for ever.
- Witness — Since the word is his only help, keeping it ready to speak takes daily fellowship and study, and sin in the life silences the testimony even when the mouth keeps moving.
Then will I keep thy law continually, for ever and ever;
In verse 44 the psalmist stops asking and starts promising. He has been praying for rescue; now he vows what he will do with the rest of his life. How can anyone promise unbroken obedience "forever and ever"? And does such a promise sound like a chain, or like freedom?
The verse does not stand alone. It opens with a small Hebrew connecting word, and that word ties the vow to the prayer just before it.
The verse begins with the Hebrew letter "vau", which can also be rendered "by way of explanation", or our "If … then …". Here the King James Version has translated it "So …". "Nothing binds a man to the way of the Lord more effectively than experiencing the truth of His Word in the form of mercies and deliverances. The Lord's faithfulness does not only open our mouths against His enemies. It also ties our hearts to His fear, and makes our union with Him closer and closer. God's grace alone can enable us to keep His commandments without break and without end." So, because He strengthens us, gives us life and enables us, we can "keep" His "law" in the form of Christ's commandments for us today.
A vow of endless obedience is impossible for a heart that hates the command. That is how the law was met when it first came at Sinai. Commentators read Psalm 119 as the voice of a very different person — someone God has already changed inside.
How different the spirit of Psalm 119 is. At Sinai the law came to people in their natural state, and they hated it and rebelled against it. In Psalm 119 the writer delights in the law of God. Clearly he has been born again, and he tastes in advance the blessing Israel will have in a future day, when the Lord will say, "I will put My laws on their hearts, and write them on their minds" (Heb. 10:16).
Another writer makes the same point a test of who can say such words.
When God writes His law on the heart, the people He speaks of get hearts that will not let them forget what He has commanded. This is not the natural state of anyone. It belongs only to those of whom He can also say, "I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more." Psalm 119 is the passionate expression of a heart that is blessed like that.
The doubled words are not fine print in a contract. They are enthusiasm. And what the psalmist says next shows how such obedience feels from the inside.
The second part develops the consequences that flow from finding Jehovah and His word fully sufficient. The first of them, for the person on whose heart the law is written, is the joy of continuous, unbroken obedience to it. "For ever and ever," he says with enthusiasm. Oh that we would take up our "easy yoke" in the same way! For him it is easy. "I will walk at liberty," he says. It is freedom to walk in ways the heart approves of and chooses for itself. This is our blessedness too, whose "rule" is not the law but the "new creation in Christ Jesus", the perfect and heavenly walk of the "Second Man".
The phrase "I will walk at liberty" comes from the next verse in older translations. Commentators differ here. Some say the believer keeps God's word today in the form of Christ's commandments. Others say the Christian's rule is the new creation, not the law.
Read as a life sentence, the verse sounds heavy. But nothing less would satisfy the psalmist, and the other road is the real prison.
"I will keep your law continually, forever and ever" (v. 44). Nothing less than this can satisfy him. So he will walk at liberty, seeking God's precepts. Self-will and self-seeking are bondage, not liberty.
The vow to keep is the first link in a chain that ends in open speech. The order matters.
The rescued man, free from the enemy's attacks and insults, would keep the law continually and walk in liberty. In freedom of soul he would have no shame in speaking of God's testimonies before the greatest on earth. This is always God's order for His servants. First, "keep" the Word in the soul. Then comes a right "walk", as the Word has its practical effect in the life. Last comes "speaking" to others, the lips telling out what the life already shows.
- So — the vow is an answer, not a bargain. It follows the prayer, and it is the experience of God's mercies and deliverances that binds a heart to His way.
- Kept — only a heart where God has written His law can promise this. That is the mark of the people whose sins He remembers no more.
- Continually — the doubled "forever and ever" is enthusiasm, not gritted teeth. It is the joy of obedience that never breaks off.
- Free — this obedience is liberty, because it walks in ways the heart itself has chosen. Self-will is the real bondage.
- Spoken — God's order runs keep, then walk, then speak. The word held in the soul shapes the life, and the life gives the lips something to say before the greatest on earth.
And I will walk at liberty, for I have sought thy precepts;
Just before this, the psalmist asks for God's mercy and promises unbroken obedience. Now he calls that obedience a wide place — "liberty," in older translations — which sounds like the opposite of what commands usually feel like.
The word translated "wide place" is first a builder's word. One writer traces it from building measurements into its picture use:
"Breadth" comes from a root meaning "spacious," "roomy." It appears again and again in the measurements of the tabernacle and temple, both in Solomon's day and in the future building Ezekiel describes. But it also has a picture use we know well. So Solomon had great largeness (breadth) of heart (1 Kings 4:29): "I will walk at liberty (or breadth)" — Ps. 119:45; Ps. 119:32.
The verse ties that open space to seeking God's precepts — the opposite of how most people picture freedom. One commentator puts it plainly:
So he will walk at liberty, seeking God's precepts. For self-will and self-seeking are bondage, not liberty.
Another writer goes further. Our own will forges the chain:
True slavery is being enslaved by our own will. True liberty means having our own will completely set aside. When we do our own will, self is our centre.
Obedience can be a restraint or a release. It depends on the will behind it. One writer shows this with his own child:
If I tell my child to stay in the house when he wants to go out, he may obey. But it is not a law of liberty to him. He is holding back his will. If I then say, "Now go where you want to go," he obeys — and that is a law of liberty. His will and the command are the same. They run together.
The same law met a very different welcome at Mount Sinai:
At Sinai the law came to men in their natural state, and they hated it and rebelled against it. In Psalm 119 the writer delights in the law of God. Clearly he has been born again, and he tastes in advance the blessing Israel will have in a future day.
The verse gives a reason for the wide place: he has sought God's precepts. One comment sets the liberty beside the misery it replaces:
Such a person knows the liberty of walking in God's ways. He also knows the miserable bondage that comes when any sin rules over him. He wants to be free from men, too, so that he can keep God's precepts.
The same writer defines the liberty itself:
"I will walk at liberty," he says. It is freedom to walk in ways the heart approves — ways the heart itself chooses.
The verses around this one move outward, and one commentator reads them as a sequence:
The delivered man, free from the attacks and insults of the enemy, would keep the law without a break and walk in liberty. In freedom of soul he would feel no shame in speaking of God's testimonies before the greatest on earth. This is always God's order for His servants. First, "keep" the Word in the soul. Then a right "walk," where the Word has its practical effect in the life. Finally, "speak" to others, the lips telling out what the life already shows.
- Breadth. The word behind "wide place" is a measuring word: spacious, roomy. It measures temple rooms — and an enlarged heart.
- Bondage. The verse flips the usual picture. Self-will is the cage, and sin ruling a person is the real misery.
- Agreement. A command becomes freedom when the will and the command run together — like a child told to do what he already wanted.
- Source. The wide place is not self-made. It comes to the one who seeks God's precepts, and the heart approves the ways it walks.
- Overflow. The order runs keep, then walk, then speak. The wide place ends in speaking of God without shame before the greatest on earth.
And I will speak of thy testimonies before kings, and will not be ashamed;
Psalm 119 is the long song of a man under pressure. The proud mock him and those in power watch him, and his one resource is the word of God. Here he makes a promise about his mouth. What he has kept inside he will say out loud, in the highest company on earth, without shame.
The verse comes at the end of a short movement. The psalmist first keeps God's law, then walks freely in it, and only then opens his mouth. One writer sees that order as God's normal way with His servants.
Confident that God will answer his prayer, the psalmist looks ahead to the blessing of God's deliverance. Once delivered, free from the enemy's opposition and insults, he would keep the law without a break and walk in liberty. With a free soul he would feel no shame in speaking of God's testimonies before the greatest people on earth. This is always God's order for His servants: first, to "keep" the Word in the soul; then a right "walk", as the Word takes practical effect in the life; last, to "speak" to others, so that the lips tell out what the life already shows.
Shame silences most people. Here it has nothing to work on. The man speaks about what he already loves, and his words are an open declaration of loyalty, not empty talk.
The heart of the godly man delights in what he speaks about. He loves the Lord's commandments, so his lips find no shame in speaking of what fills his heart. He would openly declare his loyalty to God's commands — that is the force of lifting up the hands — not as mere lip service, but as an open declaration of the law he loved.
Kings are the hardest audience. One writer notes that the psalmist feels the world's opposition without alarm, and ties that courage to the delight in God's commandments that follows.
He feels the world's opposition, but without alarm. He will speak of God's testimonies before kings and will not be put to shame; and he will delight in His commandments, which he has loved. These things, I think, go together. The first is an example of the second: bold confession of the truth also keeps the joy of it alive in the heart. It is always so.
The verse presses a question on the reader: who owns your mouth? One writer points to Paul, who stood before rulers and gave a clear testimony there.
There was a time, in our unconverted days, when Psalm 12:2-4 might have been true of any one of us: "…with flattering lips and a double heart they speak… those who say, 'With our tongue we will prevail, our lips are with us; who is master over us?'" I hope that my reader can say: "my lips are His". What do we use our mouths and our lips for now? Surely our verse helps us: "I will also speak of your testimonies before kings and shall not be put to shame." Think of the apostle Paul, how he stood before king Agrippa, before Festus and Felix, and gave a ringing testimony to his faith in the living God (Acts 26 etc.).
The psalmist's courage shows itself in a second, less flattering way. He also stands with God's people, faults and all, while the world sneers at them. Not everyone with a bold public voice will do that.
Erasmus had the courage to publish the principles of the Reformation and mock the priests, but he did not dare to join himself to the humble, uneducated and somewhat disorderly peasants led by Luther. He said Luther was "too violent and extreme." The worst of it was that this was quite true. Sadly, it is all too true that the few who hold the truth in any age are wide open to attack. Like Israel's family, they are marked by great sins and inconsistencies, and their critics are quick to spot them and exaggerate them. Still, they are the people of God, and His servant identifies himself with them. He says not only, "I will also speak of your testimonies before kings and shall not be put to shame," but also, "I am a companion of all who fear you, of those who keep your precepts" (Psalm 119:46, 63).
- Kept — the word goes into the soul first; he says nothing in public that he has not first held in private.
- Walked — the word then shapes the life, so his words have a life behind them and are not lip service.
- Spoken — the lips express what the life already shows, and what the heart already loves.
- Before kings — the highest company on earth is no reason for silence. He feels the opposition, but without alarm, and bold confession keeps the joy of the truth alive.
- Beside the lowly — the servant who speaks unashamed to kings also counts himself a companion of God's despised and imperfect people.
And I will delight myself in thy commandments, which I have loved;
This verse comes near the end of a section where a man under reproach asks God to rescue him. He then describes what a rescued life looks like. Notice the order: he loves the commands first, and delight follows.
The same commands can feel like two different things. What makes the difference is the place God's word holds in the mind.
Faith has the sense of how important God's testimonies are, and is filled with it. Men take their place, and may be respected, as is due to them; but God's place fills and governs the mind, not by effort, but naturally. So the commandments of God become, instead of a pressure on the conscience, the delights of the heart. There is open confession and dedication to them. It is a solemn declaration of the heart. He has not only loved them; he openly declares that he owns their truth and authority, saying, That is what I own.
The psalmist says he loves these commands. That inner desire is what decides whether a command crushes or frees.
The law of Sinai was written on tablets of stone; it wrote nothing on the heart. It told men what to do but gave them no desire or power to obey it. To be commanded to do what I have no desire to do is bondage, even if I obey. Now, by the word of God, we have a perfect revelation of the will of God. And by that same word God has also given us a new nature that delights to act according to the word. To be commanded to do what I desire to do is liberty.
Put the other way round, whatever competes with that desire is the real chain.
He will walk at liberty, seeking God's precepts. For self-will and self-seeking are actually bondage, not liberty.
This verse does not stand alone. It is the last link in a chain running through the verses around it. One writer traces a set order in that chain.
The delivered man, free from the opposition and reproaches of the enemy, would continually keep the law and walk in liberty. In freedom of soul he would have no shame in speaking of God's testimonies before the greatest on earth. This is always God's order from His servants. First, to "keep" the Word in the soul. Then a right "walk" — the Word having its practical effect in the life. Last of all, to "speak" to others, the lips speaking of what the life already shows.
These verses set two things side by side: speaking of God's word before kings, and delighting in that word. The link runs both ways.
He will speak of God's testimonies before kings, and not be ashamed. He will delight himself in His commandments, which he has loved. These things, I think, go together. The first is an example of the second. And the boldness of confessing the truth also keeps the joy of it in the heart. So it always is.
This delight is not a one-off feeling. One writer treats such love for God's Word as normal for every believer, not exceptional.
It is impossible to lay too much stress on the importance and value of the Word of God. Love for it should be a characteristic of every believer. It would not be too much to say that our growth in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, is largely tied to it… Some of the psalmist's expressions might well humble us. They show us the place the Word held in his affections.
The same trait is what set David apart from Saul, the king the people had chosen for themselves.
How different David was from Saul may be seen in Psalm 119… "I will delight myself in your commandments, which I have loved" (Ps. 119:47)… Oh, that there were such a spirit in both the reader and the writer of these pages!
- Loved. Love comes first and delight follows. He enjoys these commands because he already loves them.
- Freed. A command to do what you have no desire to do is bondage, even when you obey. A command to do what you already want is liberty. Self-will is the real chain.
- Kept. God's order runs from keeping the Word in the soul, to a walk shaped by it, to speaking it to others.
- Confessed. Speaking of God's testimonies before the great proves this delight. It also keeps the delight alive.
- Owned. He does not love these commands in secret. He says openly that they are true and carry authority.
And I will lift up my hands unto thy commandments, which I have loved, and I will meditate in thy statutes.
Verse 48 closes a section of Psalm 119 that begins at verse 41. It brings hands, heart and mind together in one act. The psalmist reaches toward commands he already loves. But what does the raised hand mean, and why does love come first?
One reading takes the gesture as a public act, done in front of others.
Further, the heart of the godly man delights in what he speaks about. Loving the Lord's commandments, his lips find no shame in speaking of what fills his heart. He would openly declare his allegiance to God's commands. That is the force of lifting up the hands. It is no mere lip profession, but an open owning of the law that he loved. What is more, what he loves would be the theme of his meditations.
Another writer calls the same gesture a solemn pledge. He also notes what has changed in the heart that makes it.
The commandments of God become, instead of a pressure on the conscience, the delights of the heart. There is open confession and dedication to them; I suppose this is lifting up the hands to them. It is a solemn declaration of the heart; not only has he loved them, but he openly declares that he owns their truth and authority, saying, That is what I own. And as he openly owns his allegiance to them, so he meditates on them for his own joy.
Commentators differ on the picture. Another takes the open palms as the posture of prayer.
The last verse shows this delight increasing more and more. The hands (or palms) lifted up show, as in prayer, the longing and eagerness of the soul. It also implies that the soul is grasping the depths and mysteries of that blessed Word. So it meditates on that Word continually.
The verse before it has the psalmist testifying in front of kings without shame. Boldness outside and gladness inside are not two separate things.
He feels the opposition of the world, but without alarm. He will speak of God's testimonies before kings, and not be ashamed. He will delight in His commandments, which he has loved. These things, I think, go together. The first is an example of the second. And the boldness of confessing the truth keeps the joy of it alive in the heart.
Three things follow here in a set order.
The psalmist is sure God will answer his prayer. So he looks ahead to the blessing of God's deliverance. The delivered man is free from the opposition and insults of the enemy. He would keep the law without a break and walk in liberty. With a free soul, he would feel no shame in speaking of God's testimonies before the greatest people on earth. This is always God's order for His servants. First, "keep" the Word in the soul. Then a right "walk" — the Word having its practical effect in the life. Last, "speak" to others, the lips telling what the life shows.
The verse puts love first and thinking second, and that order cannot be reversed by effort. A certain condition of heart makes this kind of reflection possible at all.
We read in verse 16, "I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word." All this tells of a state of soul. Often that state is only reached through much exercise and many experiences. Sometimes, even after conversion, we read the Scriptures only out of a sense of duty… Others read their Bibles eagerly, but mainly to learn the contents and gain knowledge. In neither case will the meditation of our psalm be possible. But the Lord Himself can become the one object that absorbs our hearts. Then we hear His well-known voice speaking to us through His Word… and we are often lost in meditation on His wonderful words.
The last line of the verse is not vague daydreaming. The Hebrew word has a plain sense, and it carries a condition.
In the places cited, the word means "to talk to oneself" about the subject filling the mind… The lesson is this. If meditation is to be of value and for blessing, it must be carried on in the presence of God — in a sense of dependence on Him and on the ministry of His Spirit. Otherwise we would be lost in the maze of human thoughts and speculations.
- Loved — Delight in God's word comes first. Where reading is only duty or only fact-gathering, this psalm's meditation is out of reach.
- Kept — God's order runs keep, then walk, then speak: the word held in the soul, worked out in the life, and only then on the lips.
- Raised — Some read the lifted hands as an open declaration of allegiance, not mere lip service. Others read them as palms open in prayer, longing for the depths of that word.
- Spoken — Speaking of God's testimonies before kings goes with delight in His commands. Bold confession keeps the joy alive.
- Pondered — Meditation means talking a thing over with yourself, in God's presence and depending on His Spirit. Without that, it turns into human speculation.
ZAIN. Remember the word for thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope.
The psalmist's whole case here rests on one thing: a word God spoke to him. He does not ask for a new promise. He asks God to act on the one already given — and God Himself is the one who put that hope in him.
The prayer sounds strange at first, since God forgets nothing. But the request says more about the one praying than about God's memory.
It may seem unnecessary to ask the Lord to remember. But we know that He makes allowances for the weakness of our faith. The Word of God had caused the psalmist to hope, and the Lord certainly could never forget that.
Reminding God of what He has said is not out of place. Scripture invites it, and the supply of promises to pray back is huge.
It is the psalmist who asks the Lord to remember His Word! The Lord has given precious promises. Someone has tried to count all the promises given in the Bible and has found more than 30,000 of them! … We have this interesting word in Isaiah 62:6, "you who put the LORD in remembrance, take no rest." The best basis for prayer is the solid promises of God. Remind God of what He has said!
Notice who caused the hope. The believer did not produce it; God did, by His word. That is why the plea rests on solid ground.
God has caused His servant to trust in His Word. So he can look to God with complete confidence to fulfil that Word. He knows that God must be true to His Word. This confidence in the stability of God's Word had been his comfort in the middle of affliction. His confidence in the Word grew out of the life the Word had given him.
The soul has already said yes to what God said. Now it waits for God to do the same, in circumstances that offer no other support.
But the soul has counted on God's word; God has taught and led the soul to do it, and now it looks for God to put His Amen to it (the man, by grace, has already put his own). This confidence of faith in God's word had been its comfort in affliction. Here was something firm and steady for hope. It brought in God's faithfulness and testimony — God Himself as the hope of the soul — when everything around was against him and there was nothing to lean on.
Darby also shows what this hope does under attack:
This humble, patient obedience, quietly accepting insults, had been mocked and scorned by the proud. But faith in His word kept the soul from turning aside. It held firm in the sorrow… What made it obedient made it confident: God was the one it looked to, and this kept the sight and memory of faith clear.
The hope of verse 49 and the comfort of verse 50 come from the same source. The New Testament says the same about the Scriptures.
But the psalmist was a wise man, made wise by the Word that he loved… He turned to God and His word… He knew the source of hope and comfort and peace. It was the word that had caused him to hope (v. 49), and that same word was his comfort in his affliction (v. 50). This reminds us of a beautiful New Testament word: "that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope" (Rom. 15:4).
Why does God's word do this when human wisdom cannot?
Unlike the imperfect, even unworkable, philosophies of mankind, God's word shows the sorrows and trials of this life in their true and proper character. It sheds the light of heaven on the gloom of earth.
- Word given. God spoke first; the hope in this verse traces back to a promise He made, not to a mood the believer manufactured.
- Hope caused. God made His servant trust the Word. So the servant can look to Him with full confidence to keep it — He must be true to His Word.
- Remembrance pleaded. Asking God to "remember" allows for our own weak faith. Scripture even invites us to put the Lord in remembrance of what He has said.
- Amen awaited. The soul has put its Amen to God's word. Now it waits for God to put His — steady ground when nothing else offers support.
- Comfort produced. The word that gave hope becomes comfort in affliction. It holds the believer steady under the scorn of the proud and casts heaven's light on earth's darkness.
This is my comfort in mine affliction; for thy word hath quickened me.
Psalm 119:50 comes from a section where the writer is mocked and afflicted, with nothing outward to lean on. Here he names the one thing that holds him: comfort in trouble, and the life-giving power of what God has said.
Verse 50 does not stand alone. One commentator traces the same word doing double duty — it gave him hope, and now it comforts him:
But the Psalmist was a wise man, made wise by the Word that he loved. Though he felt the hard words spoken against him, and felt them keenly, he did not retaliate. He turned to God and His word. He knew the source of hope and comfort and peace. It was the word that had caused him to hope (v. 49), and that same word was his comfort in his affliction (v. 50).
Romans 15:4 speaks of the "encouragement of the Scriptures"; older translations say "comfort." One writer links that word to the comfort of this verse:
In Romans 15:4 we read of the "comfort of the Scriptures." Here again the word has the force of encouragement. Psalm 119 has some 174 verses that refer to the word of God, and in verse 50 the Psalmist uses the usual word for comfort. Verses 76 and 82 again tie comfort to the word of the Lord.
The comfort comes as we take God's promises for ourselves. Notice, too, what the writer never asks for:
We make these great and precious promises our own by faith: we thank the Lord for every promise the Holy Spirit brings before us in our daily reading. It is in making them our own that we experience the "comfort in my affliction." It is when we thank the Lord for His promises that we experience what the Psalmist affirms: "your promise gives me life." Notice, there is no prayer for deliverance from the affliction! Although the affliction remains, the comfort is there so that we may be able to bear it, and be victorious in it.
Older translations read "your word has quickened me" here. One writer notes that the Psalmist asks for this quickening again and again:
The Psalmist says that God's Word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he longs to be quickened. He evidently uses the word more in the sense of being revived, of being restored to more vigorous life.
Another writer draws from the same phrase where life comes from, and what has no part in giving it:
Outward ceremonies have nothing whatever to do with giving or sustaining life. To think so is to mistake what they are for. Life comes only by the word of God, in the power of the Spirit — "your word has quickened me." The process is not external and mechanical. It is a moral one, dealing with the heart and conscience.
Where did such confidence come from? Not from himself:
God has caused His servant to trust in His Word; therefore, with the utmost confidence, he can look to God to fulfil His Word. He knows that God must be true to His Word. This confidence in the stability of God's Word had been his comfort in the middle of affliction. The Word had quickened him, and his confidence in it grew out of that.
The proud mocked his quiet obedience. Here is what the comfort did for him under that scorn:
There was something firm and steadfast for hope. It brought in God's faithfulness and testimony — God Himself as the hope of the soul — when everything around him was against him, and there was nothing to lean on. And this is comfort, true comfort, in affliction. That very word had quickened the soul itself. The proud scorned and mocked this humble, patient obedience that quietly accepted insult. But faith in His word kept the soul from turning aside. It held fast in the sorrow.
- Promise — The word that gave him hope (v. 49) is the same word that comforts him in his affliction (v. 50).
- Life — "Quickened" here means revived, restored to fuller life. The word gives that life and works on the heart and conscience; no outward ceremony can do it.
- Comfort — The word here has the force of encouragement. Romans 15:4 ties the same idea to the Scriptures.
- Bearing — He never asks God to remove the affliction. The trouble stays, and the comfort makes it bearable and turns it into victory.
- Steadfastness — God must be true to His word. Faith in it held the soul steady under the scorn of the proud, right through the sorrow.
The proud have derided me beyond measure I have not declined from thy law.
Here the psalmist names the cost of trusting God's word: proud men pour scorn on him. The mockery is heavy, but it has not moved him one inch off course.
Older translations call them "the proud," and one writer identifies them plainly, along with the weapon they use.
By the proud are meant the unbelievers! They cannot understand the quiet confidence of the believer and ridicule him. Ridicule is often a powerful weapon Satan uses to make believers doubt God's promises. But this ridicule should not surprise us. The apostle Paul tells us: "Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted" (2 Tim. 3:12). The natural person does not accept, cannot understand, the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him (1 Cor. 2:14).
Another writer traces the mockery back to a decision they have made about God Himself.
Confidence in the Word of God made the Lord's servant a target of mockery for the proud men of the world. These were men who had thrown off all allegiance to God and His Word. Despite their mockery, the soul held firm in its confidence.
The derision is not random. Something in the word itself sets it off.
Wherever the word goes, its demand for righteousness and goodness stirs up the heart's inborn resistance to good and to God. So here the psalmist tells of the derision he had met from men. These were the proud, who would not put up with the word's rebuke. Their character showed what their opposition was really like; and he had not turned away from the law because of it.
They did not mock him for arguing. They mocked the way he lived, and the way he took insults without hitting back.
This lowly, patient obedience, which quietly accepted reproach, had been the scorn and derision of the proud. But faith in His word had kept the soul from swerving. It held fast in the sorrow. It looked back to God's ways of old, when He had stretched out His hand. What made the soul obedient also made it confident: it looked to God, and this kept the sight and memory of faith clear.
The mockery has an aim. It wants the very thing the second half of the verse refuses.
So let us arm ourselves! If the enemy seeks to make us doubt the promises of God, let us not give him one inch! The enemy's aim is to make us turn away from Your law — the Word of God. But with the Lord's help his efforts will only strengthen us. They will make us more determined to trust the Lord and see His promises come true.
Standing firm here is not gritted teeth. One writer shows the psalmist at rest under heavy mockery, and names what gave him that rest.
The proud mocked him bitterly, yet he was at rest. He firmly resisted every temptation to turn aside from the law of God. For he remembered God's judgments of the past, and in those he found genuine comfort (vv. 51-52).
Verse 51 is not an isolated bad day. One writer lists the opposition the psalmist reports right across the psalm.
He had met with reproach and contempt, and princes had been talking against him (22, 23, 42). So he asks the LORD not to let him be put to shame (31). The proud had derided him, yet he had not swerved from God's law (51). They made up a lie against him (69), and they overthrew him without cause (78). He also says they had dug pits for him and had almost destroyed him (85-87).
- Pride mocks. The scorn comes from unbelievers. They cannot make sense of a believer's quiet confidence, and they have thrown off allegiance to God and His word.
- Pride reacts. The word demands righteousness and goodness, and that demand stirs opposition. The proud will not accept its rebuke.
- Pride aims low. Satan uses ridicule to make believers doubt God's promises. The goal is to get you to turn away from the word.
- Faith holds. The proud mock a quiet obedience that accepts reproach. Faith in God's word keeps that soul from swerving.
- Faith rests. The psalmist remembered God's judgments of old. That memory turned his stand under mockery into genuine comfort, not grim endurance.
I remembered thy judgments of old, O Jehovah, and have comforted myself.
Proud men mocked the psalmist, but they could not shake him (v. 51). What steadied him was a memory: he looked back at what God had already done, and found comfort there.
Where the ESV has "rules," older translations read "judgments." One study of this psalm's words explains the Hebrew term behind both. It appears 23 times here, including in verse 52:
MISH-PAHT = Judgment... It means the sentence of a judge, and it is used above all of a sentence that imposes a penalty. So it is a judicial sentence — a decision the Lord makes.
What he recalls is how God dealt with the wicked long ago. That memory does two things. It steadies him, and it turns him away from lawless company — the point verse 53 goes on to make:
(vv. 52-53) Men mocked the godly man, yet remembering God's judgments on the wicked long ago comforted him and made him stand firm. God's past judgments make the soul shrink in horror from those who had abandoned God's law.
Verses 51 and 52 belong together: the mockery could not move him, because his mind was on something else.
Though the proud mocked him bitterly, he was at rest, standing firm against every temptation to turn aside from the law of God. For he remembered God's judgments of the past, and in them he found real comfort (vv. 51-52).
Why should an old record of judgment comfort anyone today? Because the God who acted then has not changed. The psalmist read history for a reason, and what he learned reached straight into his own trouble:
So here the psalmist tells of the mockery he had met from men. These were the proud, who would not accept the rebuke of God's word... He had read history to good purpose, and he remembered God's judgments of old. It was the same God now, and so he comforted himself. At the same time, as he thought about how man had fallen away from God, indignation ("burning heat") filled him.
Notice the wording: he comforted himself. The comfort was there in what God had done, and he reached for it.
Remembering does not happen by itself. One writer names the problem, and the remedy:
We forget so quickly! It is like saying: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly..." (Col. 3:16). There is no victory possible without that Word abiding in us. We must keep using the "sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (Eph. 6:17).
And God made sure there was a record to remember. He had His dealings with Israel written down, so that later readers could draw the very comfort this verse describes:
We should learn practical lessons from Jehovah's "...judgments of old...", from the way He dealt with His people Israel. In Romans 15:4 we read: "For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope." This then is the comfort we read of in our verse!
Verse 52 sits inside a block of eight verses (49-56). The comfort the psalmist finds under mockery does not stop at relief. A few verses later it has become a song for the road:
Verses 49-56. Jehovah's word is the support and the song of His suffering servant. It gives divine comfort when the proud mock him. The righteous are angry at those who abandon the law of their God. But as they travel on, they find joy in remembering the judgments and the Name of the Lord.
- Judgments. The word means a judge's sentence — a decision God makes and carries out, often one that imposes a penalty.
- Remembered. Comfort begins with a choice to remember. We forget fast, so we must keep the Word living in us.
- Recorded. God had those past dealings written down to instruct us, so that the encouragement of the Scriptures would give us hope.
- Unchanged. The psalmist read history to good purpose. It is the same God now, and that is why an old judgment steadies someone suffering today.
- Comforted. Mockery from the proud could not move him, and the comfort grew into a song for the road he was still travelling.
Burning indignation hath taken hold upon me because of the wicked who forsake thy law.
The psalmist is writing from the middle of a society that has thrown off God's law, and the feeling that seizes him is far stronger than disapproval. One writer points to the Hebrew word behind "hot indignation" and turns it into a question for readers today:
No true believer can stay unmoved when he sees the crowds in the streets and cities of this world, people "having no hope and without God in the world" (Ephesians 2:12). Can we be so comfortable in our own safety and in the blessings we have received that we stay indifferent to the end of those who deliberately "forsake your law"? The word for "horror" is better translated "hot zeal." Should we as Christians not burn with that same "hot zeal" of compassion for these lost souls?
The heat rises as he looks at what human history has been. One writer sees it in whole nations, not only in individuals:
He had read history well, and he remembered God's judgments long ago. It was the same God now, and so he comforted himself. But as he thought about this falling away of man from God, indignation ("burning heat") filled him. And no wonder: look at what man's history has been! You can read it in the vast populations today that do not know God, and in the state of the leading so-called Christian nations.
The verse does not stand alone. It follows the psalmist's memory of how God judged evil in the past, and that memory works in two ways at once:
When people mocked him, the godly man found comfort and fresh strength to stand firm, because he remembered how God judged the wicked long ago. Those past judgments lead the soul to shrink with horror from people who have forsaken God's law.
The wicked here are people who turn right away from God's law. One writer finds the psalmist's reaction matched in Christ Himself, when He faced the religious leaders of His day:
Because God's Word comforted him, it is understandable that indignation took hold of him over the wicked who turn completely away from the law of God. This indignation is like the anger of the Lord Jesus when the Pharisees showed their hard hearts and would not even answer His question. Their contempt for the Word of God and their cruelty toward a crippled man drew out His anger, and rightly so.
after_note: DELETE He was not angry about the way people treated Him. He was angry because they opposed God's Word and despised a man in need.
Commentators are careful here. Right feeling sits close to wrong action. The remedy is to look up instead of striking out:
This is a comfort. An upright mind would often rise up in indignation against public evil, but the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God. An active, energetic mind often finds it hard to take the lowly place. When people insult Christ and attack His truth, it wants to call down fire from heaven, or to strike with the sword. But when we look upward, we have songs in the night.
So where does the heat end? Not in violence, but in tears:
"Horror takes hold of him," he is grieved, he weeps because others don't keep God's word.
Grief like this has one clear mark. Men in Scripture who mourned over the failure of God's people never set themselves above it:
The men who mourned in this way were not self-righteous, and they did not think of themselves as above their people. They confessed their people's sin and included themselves in their guilt. They understood that they themselves were no better and that they formed part of this people.
- The spark. The word behind "hot indignation" means "hot zeal" — and in a Christian it burns as compassion for people who have no hope.
- The fuel. Remembering how God judged evil long ago steadies the believer under mockery, and it makes him shrink from people who abandon God's law.
- The aim. Christ's own anger is the pattern. He was not angry at how people treated Him, but at their contempt for God's Word and their hardness toward a man in need.
- The guard. Upright indignation at public evil can slide into the anger of man, and that does not produce God's righteousness. Look upward; there are songs in the night.
- The outcome. This heat ends in grief and tears for others. The mourner owns the guilt instead of standing above it.
Thy statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage.
The verse pictures a traveller who has not yet reached home, and who fills the lodging with music. What turns God's rules into songs, and why does the singing start on the road instead of at journey's end?
(The ESV renders the phrase "the house of my sojourning"; the writers quoted below use the older wording, "the house of my pilgrimage.")
The word "statutes" is not vague religious language. It names something God tells us to do, and the joy sits inside the doing:
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!
Nothing changes in the law itself. What changes is the person reading it:
It is all a question of the heart. The principle appears in Psalm 27:8: "You have said, 'Seek my face.' My heart says to you, 'Your face, LORD, do I seek.'" To the fleshly heart the law is an unbearable burden. "A new heart" (Ezek. 36:26) finds it a delight. No less than 184 times, under different names, the writer pours out his deep joy and delight.
The singer is still waiting for God to act, and the night has not lifted. His song is not the sound of an easy life:
While waiting for God to fulfill His word — while still in the house of pilgrimage and surrounded by the darkness of night — the godly man found his joy in the Word and the Name of the Lord. This confidence was the outcome of obedience to the Word.
Evil pressing in from outside drives the heart into the word. Faithfulness also leaves the heart alone, and something meets that loneliness:
When evil presses in around us, how the heart finds its relief and enlargement in the word and testimony of God Himself! His statutes are our songs in the house of our pilgrimage. In a world of evil the heart is left alone, for a faithful heart will and must stand alone, however sweet its communion along the way. The name of the Lord will meet that loneliness — for them the name Jehovah, for us Christ and the Father in Him... And this is the fruit of obedience, for holiness and communion — the sense of God's presence — are the fruit of obedience.
The Psalms are poetry, and one writer sees a purpose in that form. God asks us to sing our sorrows to Him instead of holding them in:
There is something specially attractive in this, something uniquely beautiful. In the book that shows me my heart's trial more than any other part of Scripture, God has put that book in the form of poetry. He says to us, Have you sorrows? Sing them out to Me. Are you pilgrims going through a weary desert? Learn that God's statutes are your songs in the house of your pilgrimage.
We can read the Bible out of duty, or as a hobby of collecting facts. Neither produces the singing of this verse:
All this tells of a state of soul — a state of soul that often comes only through much exercise and many experiences. Sometimes it is the case, even after conversion, that we only read the Scriptures from a sense of duty... Others will read their Bibles even eagerly, but mainly to learn its contents, to acquire knowledge. In neither case is the meditation of our psalm possible. But the Lord Himself may become the one object that absorbs our hearts. Then we hear His well-known voice speaking to us through His Word... and we are often lost in meditation on His wonderful words.
The house of pilgrimage is not home, yet the singing does not wait for arrival day:
We do not have to wait until we get to heaven to sing! This verse speaks of our pilgrimage. He has put a new song into our mouths, even praise to our God (Ps. 40:3). We have indeed many reasons to be joyful and to sing on the way to the Father's House.
- Statute — a direction God gives us to obey; the joy of this verse lives inside that obedience, not around it.
- Song — the same law is an unbearable weight to the natural heart and a delight to a new one; the change is in the reader.
- House — the setting is a temporary lodging, and singing does not wait for arrival; God puts the new song in our mouth on the road.
- Night — waiting and darkness are the real conditions here; evil outside drives the heart into the word, and the Lord's name meets the loneliness.
- Fruit — holiness, communion and the sense of God's presence grow out of obedience, and God asks us to sing even our sorrow back to Him.
I have remembered thy name, O Jehovah, in the night, and have kept thy law.
This verse puts two things in one line: what the psalmist calls to mind at night, and how he lives by God's law. He writes as a man still travelling and still waiting for God to act, and for him the dark is where God comes nearest.
One writer weighs why the psalmist names the night at all:
Then it will carry the most serious thought. "In the night," when earth lies in shadow, "visions of God" have at all times been most realized. Then he says, "I remember Your name... and keep Your law."
What is it that the psalmist calls to mind? One writer answers from the many names God bears:
The Name stands for the Person! How many wonderful Names our Father has, and our blessed Lord and Master Jesus Christ! Books have been written about the meaning of these Names, and every Name brings comfort and encouragement. "And those who know your name put their trust in you" (Ps. 9:10). "The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe" (Prov. 18:10).
One writer links the two halves of the verse. He notes that the night has no onlookers:
"I remember Your name in the night, O LORD" (v. 55). So the name of the Lord was food and refreshment to him — not only when conditions were light and clear, but with darkness pressing around. It meant he would keep God's law whether people were watching or not. This had become his constant possession, which is in fact the case for all who keep God's precepts.
Another writer traces the visible fruit of a life back to this hidden habit:
It may seem a small thing that we should think upon His Name. Yes, but it is the secret of all devotedness. No mighty works can make up for the lack of it. As the deep, hidden springs of love are kept at work, as His sacred and precious Name is cherished within, so our outward witness will be fitting. The lovely sap will quietly and surely produce its own proper fruit. The Christ grown in the heart will be the Christ spoken by the lips and shown in the life.
One writer reads verses 54–56 together, as the words of a man still waiting for God to act:
(vv. 54–56) Still, the godly man was waiting for God to fulfil His word. He was still a traveller far from home, surrounded by the darkness of night. Yet he found his joy in the Word and the Name of the Lord. This confidence was the outcome of obedience to the Word.
Note the order: obedience came first, and confidence grew out of it.
The night here covers more than the hours after sunset:
We have probably all known times in our spiritual experience that are like "nights". Things are dark, we are restless, and we long for the "morning" to dawn. Whether they are literal nights and we suffer from real insomnia, or other kinds of "nights", let us remember the Lord's Name.
The same writer adds that the pilgrim's singing does not stop when the light goes:
So the Holy Spirit enables the pilgrim to sing on his path day by day. Even in the night he can sing, when he remembers what the Lord is to him.
- Night — darkness is where the verse begins. Writers treat it as the time when God is most real, not least.
- Name — the Name is the Person, not a word. Those who know that Name put their trust in Him.
- Memory — recalling the Name feeds the soul. It keeps you obeying God's law when no one is watching, and it is the secret of all devotedness.
- Obedience — the pilgrim's confidence grows out of obedience to the Word, not ahead of it. These are the words of a man still travelling and still waiting.
- Song — remembering what the Lord is to him lets the pilgrim sing in the night as well as the day.
This I have had, because I have observed thy precepts.
Verse 56 closes a section of Psalm 119 marked by night, pilgrimage and songs drawn from God's statutes, and it names what the writer gained from all of it. Is keeping God's precepts the price of that blessing, or the path into it?
The section that ends here moves from waiting on God's promise to a calm look back. One writer notes how the closing line fits the character of a seventh section.
The seventh section stands for "completion," and completion must mean "rest," because the thing is finished… The last verse here clearly unites the thoughts of accomplishment and satisfaction: "This has been mine, that I have kept Your precepts."
That is why the section has so little asking in it and so much remembering.
"I have finished my course; I have kept the faith." There is only one prayer in the section. It is about a promise God has yet to fulfil — one he is looking for, and has looked for. All the rest is a review of the past, and that in peace of heart.
The verse never says what "this" is. We have to read it against the lines just before — the comfort already spoken of, God's name in the night, the statutes turned into songs. The wording matters too. Older translations read the line as a look back: "This I had, because I kept Your precepts." The ESV has a blessing that "has fallen to me."
The literal translation is: "This was done to me because." What he had was no doubt the comfort he had spoken of in the earlier verses. Is he looking back now and saying, "I had this once, but now…"? Is he speaking of a past experience? "This I had, because I kept Your precepts!" But here is a warning for us. Let us not lose what we have. We can have this sense of His presence daily. We can have this comfort of His companionship on our pilgrim path, and this joy in Him and in obeying Him. Let us not grieve the Lord or the Holy Spirit, but seek His fellowship. Then we will discover our immense spiritual possessions.
The order matters. Obedience came first, and the joy followed.
While waiting for God to fulfil His word — while still in the house of pilgrimage and surrounded by the darkness of night — the godly man found his joy in the Word and the Name of the Lord. This confidence was the outcome of obedience to the Word.
Obedience does more than settle a question about the past. It shapes what the pilgrim sings, and what meets him when evil presses in and he feels alone.
When evil presses in, how the heart finds its relief and freedom in the word and testimony of God Himself! His statutes are our songs in the house of our pilgrimage. In a world of evil the heart feels lonely, but the name of the Lord will meet that loneliness… And this is the fruit of obedience, for holiness and communion — the sense of God's presence — are the fruit of obedience. So Romans 6:22: "the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life." The obedience here has the sense of diligent observation of God's precepts, a thing not to be forgotten.
A stranger owns little. Yet the writer can call one thing his own. And even that rests on something outside himself.
So he finds what those who have it prove more and more to be a substantial possession: "this has been mine, that I have kept Your precepts." One day "the righteous deeds of the saints" will adorn them even at the marriage of the Lamb. Yet those pure white robes shine only because they are "washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb." (Rev. 7:14; 19:8)
Commentators differ in emphasis. One reads the verse as a warning: do not lose a comfort you once enjoyed. Another reads it as a calm review of the past, made in peace.
- Kept. Keeping God's precepts means "diligent observation" of them — steady attention, not an occasional act.
- Gift. What he received was comfort: joy in the Word and in the Name of the Lord, in the dark, still waiting for a promise.
- Order. The comfort was "the outcome of obedience to the Word." Holiness and the sense of God's presence are the fruit of obedience, not wages paid for it.
- Possession. For a stranger who owns little, this is "a substantial possession." Yet the white robes of the saints shine only through the blood of the Lamb.
- Rest. The section ends in accomplishment and satisfaction — "a review of the past, and that in peace of heart." The warning stands with it: do not lose what you have.
CHETH. My portion, O Jehovah, I have said, is to keep thy words.
This section of the psalm (verses 57-64) opens with a claim, not a request: the writer names the LORD Himself as his share, then ties that claim to a promise to keep His words. So what does it mean to call God your "portion," and why does that confession lead straight to obedience?
The word "portion" here is not pointing at what God gives. It points at God.
We had precious promises in the precious section. Here we have a precious portion. The Hebrew reads: "My portion is Jahweh…" We are not talking about blessings, or promises, but about a Person! Many Christians are so taken up with the blessings that they forget the Blesser. In the same way, many are so thrilled with their spiritual gifts that they ignore the Giver!
"Portion" was a land word. When Israel divided the country, each tribe drew a share. Levi, the tribe set apart for God's service, drew none. God gave them Himself instead.
The Lord gave the tribe of Levi no inheritance in the land. The sacrifices made by fire to the Lord God of Israel are their inheritance, as He said to them. The Lord God of Israel Himself was their inheritance… Wherever the other tribes lived, there was Levi. Wherever devoted people in Israel worshipped the Lord, there Levi had his inheritance. The Lord — not a position — was Levi's lot… And so the happiest and richest Christians are those who find their portion in the Lord Himself.
To a person who wants something he can hold, that inheritance looks like nothing. To faith it is everything.
It is a fine portion, no doubt, though unbelief thinks it nothing. Unbelief longs instead for someone to show it good in a form it can touch — the grain and wine and oil of this creation. But to have Him who has all things, and who is Himself infinitely more than all He has, is a better portion beyond compare. Anyone who believes this by grace must admit it.
Notice the form of the words. The psalmist is not asking God to become his portion; he says He already is. (Older translations render the line "You are my portion.")
The Psalmist, in his own generation, could find his portion in Jehovah. We have the light of all that the Lord has done for us, and of what He is in His greatness and glory. Should we not find our portion in Himself in this day? The words of our opening verse, "You are my portion," are a confession, not a prayer. Has there not been the danger of our looking for a portion on earth, looking around for something to satisfy? How good it is for us to find, as Solomon did, that all things here are "empty."
The second line of the verse — "I promise to keep your words" — is not a change of subject. Commentators read it as the necessary partner of the first line.
In this part (vv. 57-64) we have more the affections connected with the word written in the heart: "You are my portion, O Jehovah." The heart has Himself as its source of joy and blessing. This must connect with a set purpose of heart towards God: "I have said." No one can look to the Lord as his portion without in that very act purposing to do His will. To do otherwise would not be owning Him.
The obedience is not mechanical. It grows out of learning what God is like from His own words.
His soul had entered the sphere where a man learns God's mind and will, where His words direct the thoughts of the heart. With his whole heart the godly man gives himself to the words that unfold to him the greatness, the glory and the beauty of the Lord. As he keeps company with Him, his soul weighs its own ways, asking whether they match the desire of His heart.
This confession also does practical work. It settles how much room Satan has in us.
This is a fine principle when we apply it to our own hearts in relation to Christ. If we are filled with Him we have no room for anything else. It is only when Satan succeeds in creating a want in our hearts that he introduces something of his own. When we are able in truth to say, "The Lord is my portion," we are safe from the influence of Satan's attractive baits.
- Portion — the word comes from the sharing out of the land. Levi received no land. The Lord Himself was their inheritance.
- Person — the psalmist names the Giver, not the gifts. The danger is loving the blessings and forgetting the Blesser.
- Confession — "The LORD is my portion" is a statement, not a request. It ends the search for something on earth to satisfy.
- Purpose — no one can claim Him as his portion without also meaning to do His will. Less than that is refusing to own Him.
- Protection — a heart full of Christ has no empty space for Satan to fill. The confession itself guards us.
I have sought thy favour with [my] whole heart be gracious unto me according to thy word.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
I have thought on my ways, and turned my feet unto thy testimonies.
This part of Psalm 119 opens with a confession: the Lord Himself is the psalmist's portion. That confession sends him back over his own ways with honest eyes. The question is where such thinking leads the feet. (The writers below quote an older translation, which reads "I thought on my ways" where the ESV has "When I think on my ways.")
This verse does not stand alone. It belongs to a section that begins with a heart that has found its treasure, and one writer traces the whole chain from that starting point.
In this part (vv. 57-64) we have more of the affections that go with the word written in the heart: "You are my portion, O Jehovah." The heart has Himself as its source of joy and blessing. This must go together with purpose of heart towards God: "I have said." You cannot look to the Lord as your portion without purposing to do His will, for that would be not owning Him... I see the same desire here. It is not mere obedience, though obedience flows from it, but the meditation of the heart: "I thought on my ways" — the inward searchings of the heart, a needed and important thing for us — "and turned my feet to Your testimonies."
It is possible to keep rules without ever asking where your life is going. The same writer separates obedience by habit from a heart that is with God.
We may obey by instinct, almost carelessly, and with right intention, but in a way that shows the heart is not with God — not stirred, not anxious to please Him... But the saint who is right with God will review the purpose of his ways and their direction. He asks how far they match the purpose that the light God has given us points to. And if the purpose is right, he asks how far he is working it out in practice, truly and with earnest effort. For we may be outwardly blameless, in appearance even amiable, and unfaithful to the calling of God. Here, of course, we have to turn to God's testimonies, which are able to make the man of God complete, equipped for every good work.
A heart set on the Lord's favour cannot leave its own conduct alone. And when the answer comes, the feet do not drag.
The desire to obey the Word and to enjoy the favour of the Lord must lead to a searching of heart about his ways. Are they suited to one who has the Lord for his portion? So he says, "I thought on my ways;" and the practical result was that he turned his feet to the testimonies of the Lord — not reluctantly, but with eager haste.
Looking at yourself on your own, you will flatter yourself. One writer, commenting on a similar call, points to the one place where that stops.
If we heeded this call, it would spare us many an evil, many a breakdown, many a startling display of wickedness among God's people. It should be our constant and habitual work to consider our ways in the presence of God. There all delusions disappear; there, in the pure light of His holy presence, the deepest secrets of the heart come to light. Only there do we see our true condition and failures. And only there do we receive grace to judge ourselves by the perfect standard of God's glory.
One writer reads the second half of the verse as conversion itself. He then warns against stopping at the first half.
"And turned my feet to Your testimonies": this is conversion — the sinner makes a complete turn and judges his past... We must not stop at self-examination, though that is necessary in its time, but turn to Him, the object of our faith and the giver of grace and mercy.
Turning the feet often costs something. One writer answers a man who sees the right path but dreads the cost to family, needs and friends.
I know all that, but Satan will try to magnify these difficulties. Is not God for us greater than all these difficulties? I feel for you; I pray for you; God will be with you in His own path. (See Psalm 119:59-60.)
- Portion — it starts with a settled confession — the Lord Himself is your portion. That is the spring of every honest look at your life.
- Purpose — thinking on your ways means checking their direction, not just their surface. A person can look blameless and still be unfaithful to God's calling.
- Presence — consider your ways in His presence. There self-deception falls apart, and He gives grace to judge yourself.
- Pivot — thinking is only half the verse. The turn to His testimonies must be complete, and must not stop at examining self.
- Pace — the feet move without delay. If the turn costs family, needs or friends, God is greater than those difficulties.
I have made haste, and not delayed, to keep thy commandments.
In the verse before this one, the writer stops to weigh up his own ways. Here his feet move without a pause. The question is not whether we know God's commandments. It is how long we take between knowing and doing.
The haste follows a review of life. That review grows out of having the Lord as one's portion.
The desire to obey the Word and to enjoy the favour of the Lord must lead a man to search his own heart about his ways. Are they suited to someone who has the Lord for his portion? So he says, "I thought on my ways." The practical result was that he turned his feet to the testimonies of the Lord. He did not do it unwillingly, but with eager haste.
Not all obedience comes from a heart that is with God. The test is the direction of a life, measured against the light already given.
We may obey by instinct, almost carelessly, and with a right intention. But such obedience shows that the heart is not with God, not stirred, not concerned about pleasing Him. The path may not be evil, and yet the heart may be in a very poor state. The believer who is right with God does something else. He reviews the purpose of his ways and their direction. He asks how far they match the purpose that the light given to us leads to.
The verb is blunt. One writer goes back to the Hebrew behind it.
The Hebrew has: "I hurried and did not delay to keep Your commandments." Of course, keeping His commandments cannot save a sinner. But this sentence holds an important principle that belongs to a true conversion — total submission to His Word. A person must obey the Word that calls for "repentance." What is true at the start of our spiritual lives is also true for the rest of them. Never put off until tomorrow what you must do today. Prompt obedience is the secret of true spiritual growth.
This speed depends on the state of the heart.
When the heart is right, this gives diligence. It does not stop to consult flesh and blood. It has only God's favour in view, with purpose of heart: "I made haste, and delayed not, to keep Your commandments." I need not say how typical and all-important this is. It is the essential firstfruits and spring of a life true to God, as we see in the blessed apostle Paul.
One writer points to Abraham rising early in the morning as a picture of ready obedience. He sets it against acting on feeling.
"And Abraham rose up early in the morning." There is ready obedience. "I made haste and delayed not to keep Your commandments." Faith never stops to look at circumstances or to weigh results. It only looks at God… Acting on God's own word will always give our actions strength and steadiness. If we act only from impulse, the action will stop when the impulse dies down.
Delay is not a neutral pause. One writer weighs it against faith itself.
There will be no hesitation either, but a firm purpose to keep God's commandments at once (v. 60). If we give ourselves time to delay such obedience, this is not faith, but a dangerous risk.
Light that is not acted on does not wait.
Nothing can be more dangerous than to hesitate, when divine light shines upon the path. If you do not act on the light when you get it, thick darkness will certainly close in around you. So, as someone else has said, "Never go before your faith, nor lag behind your conscience."
The verse presses on things we have never changed, because we never looked at them in the light of Scripture.
Some believers today may stay in associations that Scripture condemns, simply because no one has set the Word of God before them about these things. Evil is no less evil when people miss its true character because they pay no attention to the teaching of Scripture. But once the Word is applied, God expects prompt action from His people.
One last word is about the heart behind the hurry.
There is real activity. There is no delay in setting the feet in the path of obedience to the Lord. This is because the heart is set on the Person of Jesus, and the motives are pure.
- Portion — Having the Lord as your portion starts the chain. Wanting to please Him makes you willing to examine your own ways.
- Thought — Haste comes after honest review, not instead of it. Weigh the direction of your life against the light you already have.
- Haste — The Hebrew is "I hurried." Total submission to God's Word marks the start of the Christian life, and also its whole course. Prompt obedience is the secret of growth.
- No Advice Taken — Real diligence does not stop to consult flesh and blood or weigh results. Obedience built on feeling collapses when the feeling fades.
- Delay — Delay is not caution but risk. Light refused hardens into darkness, so act as soon as the Word touches your life.
The bands of the wicked have wrapped me round I have not forgotten thy law.
In the verse before, the psalmist says he hurried to keep God's commandments (v. 60). At once the wicked close in around him. Two facts stand side by side here. Enemies cause him real loss. The loss does not erase his memory of God's law.
Note: the writers quoted below use a version that reads, "The bands of the wicked have robbed me, but I have not forgotten your law."
This verse follows a decision to obey. The trouble arrives at once.
(vv. 61-62) Whoever sets out to obey the Lord will at once find the wicked against him. But he has the Lord for his portion, so he stands steady and unmoved. However much evil presses upon him he does not forget the Word. At midnight — the darkest moment — he can rise to praise the Lord.
The verse never says God stopped the raid. One writer sets it beside other troubles in the psalm and points to what God allows.
Here God hadn't protected him from the bands of the wicked (v. 61). God hasn't stopped the proud lying about him (v. 69)… Sometimes God allows a situation, a path for us that we don't like, one we would not choose. The Lord allows it. Perhaps He allows it to test our faith, perhaps to discipline, perhaps to draw us closer to Him. Whatever the reason, God allows it. The psalmist responded by remembering God's words. He focuses on what God has written. He meditates on it, keeps it with his whole heart, and delights in it.
Earlier in this same section the psalmist called the Lord his portion (v. 57). The thief is after that portion. The attack is a backhanded compliment.
As soon as the heart turns after Christ, the enemy comes in. He tries to rob the soul of its portion, of its enjoyment of Christ. Is this not what the words of the Psalm point to? "The bands of the wicked have robbed me, but I have not forgotten your law." Let us not be discouraged when the enemy tries to rob us of the enjoyment of our portion in Christ. If the enemy is busy, let us take courage. He would not attack us if we did not have something of real value that he wanted to take from us.
The theft is real, but limited — and the second half of the verse names the counter-move.
The apostle Paul says that we should not be ignorant of Satan's devices. The Lord Jesus says: "…hold fast what you have, so that no one may seize your crown." Satan cannot make us lose our salvation or eternal life. But he can rob us of much that makes up that "crown." To counter this strategy of the enemy, the believer should busy himself with the Word of God: "…I have not forgotten your law."
There is a subtler loss than property. A man can fight wickedness and end up with a mind shaped by the thing he fights.
This path may bring suffering. Those who hate the Lord oppose us, and they are the instruments of Satan. But the inward life stays steady and true. It does not swerve in how it judges its own path: "I have not forgotten your law." We may be so taken up with opposition and evil that it forms the state of our mind, even though we stand against the wicked. That is only meeting flesh with flesh. The one who looks to the Lord lets the unforgotten word shape his path in this scene of wickedness. That leads him to see God as the One who deals with these things.
Isaac, son of Abraham, re-opened the wells his father had dug. The Philistines seized them one after another. One writer puts the psalmist's words on his lips.
Isaac began to dig the wells his father had drunk from, but the Philistines fought him for them. He could have said with the Psalmist, "The bands of the wicked have robbed me." Isaac did not give up his digging, even when the enemy fought him for the second well. He kept going, and the enemy gave up the struggle. At Rehoboth he found a place where the Lord made room for him. Then he moved on to Beersheba. There the Lord appeared to him, and there he had communion with God.
- Portion first. The section opens with the Lord as the psalmist's portion. That is what steadies him when the wicked press in, and that is what the thief wants.
- Portion attacked. The enemy targets the enjoyment of Christ — proof that you hold something worth stealing.
- Portion permitted. God did not prevent the raid. He allowed it. The psalmist answered by remembering what God had written.
- Portion guarded. Satan cannot touch your salvation, but he can rob you of much that makes up your crown. The guard is a mind full of the Word, not a mind shaped by the evil it fights.
- Portion regained. Isaac kept digging after each theft, and ended at the place where God appeared to him.
At midnight I rise up to give thanks unto thee, because of thy righteous judgments.
At the darkest hour of the night, the writer of this psalm is awake — not complaining, but praising God. What makes a person praise at midnight, and why do God's "righteous rules" draw out thanks instead of fear?
Just before this, the psalm speaks of the wicked closing in. One writer ties the two together: pressure from enemies is the setting for this praise.
Anyone set on obeying the Lord will at once find that the wicked are against him. But he has the Lord for his portion, so he stands steady and unmoved. However much evil presses upon him he does not forget the Word. At midnight — the darkest moment — he can rise to praise the Lord.
Anger is the natural response when evil is all around. One writer shows what happens instead when the heart looks up.
This is a comfort. An upright mind would often rise up in anger against public evil, but the wrath of man does not work the righteousness of God... when we look above, we have songs in the night. The heart that has one aim, led by God in His ways, has springs of joy that wake it up in the time of evil, and when it is alone with God. Sorrow may be all around, but there is joy with Him. The heart rises. There is a chord in it ready to praise. It is not only comforted in the sorrow, but set free from the bond of evil, and active in praising Him whom it knows, and who is its portion.
The thanks has a reason attached: God's righteous judgments. One writer says what it is about them that overflows into praise.
In the night his heart would overflow with praise, and he had to get up to express it. The cause was the righteousness of God's judgments — the perfect moral way in which they settle every question.
Midnight is an odd hour to choose. The oddity is the point: he gives up something to make room for this. (Older translations read "give thanks" where the ESV reads "praise.")
At midnight (a most unlikely time) the psalmist speaks of rising to give thanks to God (v. 62). Even his sleep matters less than the practice of thanksgiving — thanksgiving here because of God's righteous judgments.
Midnight is not only a time on the clock. One writer reads it as the hard stretches of a life, and says we would be poorer without them.
When... we come to Christ as the One in whom we have life for our souls, we can say with the Psalmist, "At midnight I will rise to give thanks to You." Thank God for the midnight experiences of life! If everything went well for us, it would be easy to be a Christian. But we would miss much of the joy we find in Christ in times of trouble. We rejoice in the touches of divine grace and love as the Lord walks with us in the valley.
When you cannot sleep, this verse gives you something to do.
When all is quiet at last, God can speak. Job knew about this when he said: "For God speaks once, yes twice, yet man does not perceive it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls upon men, while they slumber in bed. Then He opens the ears of men…" (Job 33:14-16). Paul and Silas: "…at midnight… prayed, and sang praises to God: and the prisoners heard them" (Acts 16:25)... So sleeplessness can sometimes be a hidden blessing. In any case it is always a good habit when we suffer from sleeplessness to praise and pray.
Midnight is not the only hour in this psalm. One writer sets the verse beside the others, and points to the renewed heart behind them all.
The man with the renewed heart rises at midnight to give thanks to the Lord because of His righteous judgments. Before the dawn he is hoping in God's word. Through the hours of the night he thinks deeply on the law of the Lord. His mind and soul and affections ever turn to the Lord, as the flower turns to the sun.
- Midnight. The hour named is the darkest moment, and evil is pressing on him — yet he rises to praise.
- Not anger. An upright mind would burn with anger at public evil. Looking above turns that into songs in the night.
- His judgments. The praise has a reason: they settle every question in a perfect moral way.
- Lost sleep. Even sleep is not as important as the practice of thanksgiving.
- Your midnight. Trouble, and even sleeplessness, can be a hidden blessing. The habit for that hour is to praise and pray.
I am the companion of all that fear thee, and of them that keep thy precepts.
The psalmist has just spoken of the Lord as his portion, and now he names his friends. The verse says nothing about talent, rank or usefulness. The test of company is the fear of God and the keeping of His precepts.
Verse 63 does not stand alone. It grows out of a man who has already settled where his satisfaction lies.
Anyone who can truly say, "The Lord is my portion," will not be alone. He will find others with the same thoughts, feelings and desires. He will be able to say, "I am a companion of all who fear You, of those who keep Your precepts." We can go on together in fellowship, finding our joys in the Lord Himself and in His things. Our walk will be on the path of obedience to His will.
The verses just before this one describe hostility from the wicked. One writer reads verse 63 as the relief that follows.
Freed from the cords of the wicked, he finds that having the Lord as his portion brings him into fellowship with others who fear the Lord and keep His Word.
The verse names a positive attraction. It also implies a group left out.
Whose company does he enjoy? Not those who grieve him by their disobedience to God. There can be no real shared feeling with them. No, he finds those who have the same attitude to God's word. Those are the people he is with. These are his companions — those who keep God's precepts. Notice too that the encouragement runs both ways. He makes such people glad (verse 74) because he has hoped in God's word.
Taking your place with a people is not a private preference. God weighs it, and it pays back.
He took his place with those who feared the Lord. Being of one mind drew them together, as it always must, and a man becomes known by the company he keeps. Our associations are one of the ways we show ourselves approved to God, or not; and the very first psalm presses this on us. (Ps. 1:1.) In close walking with those who fear the Lord, the experiences and joys of each become a blessing shared by all. Sharing them together multiplies them.
Applied today, the verse does not call for withdrawal from ordinary life. One writer separates the contacts we cannot avoid from the friendships we choose.
When we speak of companionship we mean the friendships we choose. We cannot help mixing with people who are not Christians; otherwise we would have to leave the world. We may work for an employer who is not a Christian, or sit beside clerks and workmen who are not. We buy from shopkeepers who are not Christians, and in business we have to seek trade with them.
Toward those outside, the same writer asks for warmth, not distance. Our conduct "should be courteous, kind, friendly. There should be no holier-than-thou air, as if we were better than they."
A believer who sees coldness spread among God's people may decide it is safer to walk alone. One writer meets that instinct head-on.
But the believer faces a second danger, more subtle because it sounds more reasonable. It is to cut himself off more and more as he sees indifference and worldliness spreading among God's children. This tendency is the exact opposite of God's thought for His own... The falling away does not isolate those who fear the Lord; it drives them together. As the psalmist says, "I am a companion of all who fear You."
The people who fear God are not always impressive, and their failures are real. The psalmist ties himself to them anyway, and owns them as openly as he speaks before kings.
Sadly it is all too true that the despised few who hold the truth in any age lie wide open to attack. Like Israel's family, they are marked by great sins and inconsistencies, and their critics are quick to spot them and exaggerate them. Still, they are the people of God, and His servant identifies himself with them. He says not only, "I will speak of Your testimonies also before kings, and will not be ashamed," but also, "I am a companion of all who fear You, of those who keep Your precepts."
- Portion. It starts inside. The man who has found his portion in the Lord is the man who ends up in this company.
- Companion. The bond is not personality or advantage. It is a shared attitude to God's word.
- All. The word is wide. It takes in a people marked by faults, and the psalmist owns them instead of keeping his distance.
- Chosen. We cannot avoid contact with the world, but we choose our friends. Kindness and courtesy go to everyone; the heart's company is deliberate.
- Multiplied. Walking with those who fear God turns each one's joys into everyone's. And when faith grows cold, it drives believers together instead of apart.
The earth, O Jehovah, is full of thy loving-kindness teach me thy statutes.
This verse closes eight lines in which the writer calls the Lord his portion and keeps God's word while the wicked press on him. He looks at the world from under that pressure and sees mercy, then asks to be taught.
(The writers use an older translation. Where the ESV has "steadfast love," it reads "mercy" or "loving-kindness.")
The psalmist speaks of the whole earth here, not of his own private experience. One writer notes that most people take no notice of it.
He recognises that the earth is full of the Lord's mercy, though in general people do not consider this (v. 64). But because he values such clear mercy, the psalmist wants God to teach him His statutes.
He does not say this from a comfortable place. One writer sets the words against the evil pressing round him.
He is freed from the cords of the wicked. Having the Lord as his portion brings him into fellowship with others who fear the Lord and keep His Word. So in the middle of evil he sees the mercy of the Lord. He finds it greater than man's evil: "The earth, O Lord, is full of Your mercy."
Another writer describes how the heart gets there. The will has to bow before mercy comes into view.
Here the heart is able to turn round and still see mercy, even after all the evil that had pressed upon it. And so it is. Evil may rise up like a flood, but the Lord is always above it. The heart realises this by faith, and bows its will to it all. If it is then comforted by the thought of God's judgments, it finds the constant display of His mercy now, and seeks in peace to be led in His ways.
One writer weighs the difference between grace and mercy here.
This section began with the emphasis on mercy and favour (verse 58), and now it rightly finishes with the same thought. How we need His continuing mercy day by day. Grace is seen in that He gives us what we do not deserve. Mercy is seen in that He does not give us what we deserve. He therefore fills our vision from the beginning to the end of this section of eight verses. It is a transforming vision! He is my portion; He is so gracious; He is my Friend — indeed the earth is full of Your mercy.
The two halves can look unrelated: a statement about the world, then a prayer about statutes. One writer ties them together through what this mercy does for God's own.
And "the earth is full of Jehovah's loving-kindness." He makes all things work together for good to His own… The joy of this loving-kindness, known in the soul, becomes a strong desire to be taught His statutes.
He does not ask to work this out for himself. One writer names the Teacher, and the purpose a statute serves.
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher. Through the instruments that grace uses, He can teach us the will of God (John 14:26). So let us echo the psalmist's prayer to the Lord: "…teach me Your statutes." And let us remember what a statute means: "a divine direction to obtain our obedience, and to keep us from disobedience."
Earlier in the psalm he asks for more than teaching. One writer puts the three prayers in order.
We also depend on the Lord for any practical result that follows His teaching. So the prayer follows: "Make me to go." Every believer does well to pray these three prayers, in this God-given order: "Teach me, O Lord," "Give me understanding," and "Make me to go."
- Mercy seen. The earth is full of God's mercy, but most people never take it into account; the psalmist does.
- Mercy above the flood. He sees it while evil presses on him. Evil may rise like a flood, but the Lord stays above it, and mercy proves greater than man's evil.
- Mercy framing. The eight verses open with mercy and favour and close on the same note. He does not give us what we deserve, and He fills the view throughout.
- Mercy asking. Joy in that mercy does not stop at admiration. It turns into a prayer to be taught God's statutes.
- Mercy obeyed. A statute is God's direction to secure obedience; so the prayer runs on: teach me, give me understanding, make me go.
TETH. Thou hast dealt well with thy servant, O Jehovah, according to thy word.
Psalm 119:65 opens a new section with a verdict, not a request: the writer looks back at how God has treated him and calls it good. Can such a verdict survive hard treatment, and what standard is he using?
How can painful treatment be called good? The answer lies in what came before it.
The servant of the Lord justifies God in His dealings, however painful. "You have dealt well with Your servant." Once the servant treated God badly, for he says, "I went astray." Then God, in mercy, disciplined him — "I was afflicted." Affliction broke his will, and now he submits to God's will.
Translated word for word, the Hebrew line puts the word "good" first.
"Good You have done with Your servant …," is the literal rendering in Hebrew. When you feel depressed, count your blessings! We often sing that hymn: "Count your blessings, name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord has done." This is excellent therapy for discouragement.
Earlier in the same psalm the writer asked God for this very thing.
In verse 17 he prayed, "Deal bountifully with Your servant …" This verse in Psalm 119, "You have dealt well with Your servant," is the answer to that prayer. Can you look back and thank the Lord for everything?
Jacob's life shows the same pattern.
In verse 67 he speaks of having been afflicted. He has learned that even when the Lord disciplines us, we can give thanks and say afterwards, "You have dealt well with Your servant." Jacob saw this in his own experience. In Genesis 42:36 he says, "All these things are against me." In 45:27, "the spirit of their father Jacob revived." And in Genesis 48:15 he calls Him "the God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day." So Jacob came to know what Hebrews 12:11 promises: "later it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness."
The phrase "according to Your word" sets the measure. The psalmist checks what God promised against what God has done.
The psalmist, looking back, fully approves Jehovah's faithfulness in his case. God has truly been the covenant-God. He has dealt well, and only well, with His servant, just as His word freely promised him. His faith responds fully to this, admitting that he needs God to teach him. That teaching means far more than a lesson-book, because these pupils are slow to learn for moral reasons. The rod has been among the "all things" that work good to all the people of God, and the one speaking here has found it so.
Notice two things. First, the rod belongs among the good things. Second, faith's next move is to ask for teaching, because the problem is not a lack of information but the state of the heart.
The confession is not reserved for people whose circumstances have turned out pleasant.
Whatever our circumstances, all believers can say with the whole heart that God has dealt well with us (v. 65), just as His Word has assured us. With that assurance, it is only natural to want to be taught good judgment and knowledge. God's commandments are so true that we can fully believe them (v. 66).
- Good declared. The verse is a verdict, not a request — the writer looks back over God's whole treatment of him and calls it good.
- Good through the rod. He justifies God in His dealings, however painful. The discipline that broke his will belongs among the good things.
- Good measured. "According to Your word" is the standard: God has dealt well, and only well, exactly as He freely pledged.
- Good received. In verse 17 he prayed, "Deal bountifully with Your servant." In verse 65 he says God has done it. The prayer and the answer use the same words.
- Good learned. The answer to God's goodness is not self-praise but a prayer to be taught. The real obstacle is the condition of the heart.
Teach me good discernment and knowledge; for I have believed in thy commandments.
Verse 66 sits in a section of the psalm (verses 65–72). There the writer looks back on God's dealings with him and calls them good — even the painful ones. Out of that confidence comes a prayer. He does not ask for rescue. He asks to be able to tell good from bad, and he gives a reason: he already trusts what God has said.
One writer explains the word by the way we still use it in ordinary speech:
Judgment here does not mean condemnation, but discernment and guidance. We speak in everyday speech of a man of sound judgment, that is, of one able to give wise counsel. Psalm 119:66 says, "Teach me good judgment and knowledge, for I believe in your commandments."
Discernment goes further than avoiding what is clearly wrong. It sorts what is worth doing from what could simply be done. And it has to be learned:
He prays for discernment (judgment). Sometimes this word can mean a spiritual sense of smell, or taste. Here it has the sense of taste for judgment, discernment, reason. Paul prays for the Philippians in chapter one, verse 10: "so that you may approve what is excellent." For the believer the question is not refusing sin or sinful things. It is discerning what is profitable and constructive, and what is not. Good judgment and knowledge are essential for spiritual growth… This kind of spiritual discernment does not come to us automatically, as Hebrews 5:14 shows. It comes with practice. That is why the writer begins this verse 66 with: "Teach me…" Are we willing to be taught?
If discernment must be trained, a world holding both good and evil is no accident. One writer sees God's statutes as what keeps the eye working:
In Eden man's perfection was to remain in good where evil was not, and to be a stranger to it altogether. Now, on the contrary, it lies in having the "powers of discernment trained… to distinguish good from evil"; both are before him (Hebrews 5:14). So the presence of evil around us is permitted with this end in view. And in ourselves we come into closer contact with it, and learn to hate it with matching energy. In all this we find One over all who is good and does good, whose acts truly match His nature. What a joy, then, to be taught His statutes, which enlighten the conscience and preserve moral vision. In the darkness of the cave the organ of sight is well known to waste away from simple disuse.
He asks to be taught because he already counts God's word as true. One writer ties this back to the verse before, where God has dealt well with His servant:
Whatever our circumstances, all believers can say with a whole heart that God has dealt well with us (v. 65), just as His Word assured us. With that assurance, it is only normal to want to be taught good judgment and knowledge. God's commandments are so true that we may fully believe them (v. 66).
In the verse, believing comes first and knowledge second. One writer says that order matters:
Faith comes before knowledge: the link to knowledge is lost if faith does not precede it. If I am depending on God, all true knowledge must increase that dependence. If I learn rightly, I find there is no one so worthy of dependence as HE. If I love God, I know Him, but my love supplies my knowledge; otherwise, "knowledge puffs up."
The surrounding verses show a man who once wandered and was disciplined for it:
(vv. 65–67) The servant of the Lord justifies God in His dealings, however painful. "You have dealt well with your servant." There was a time when the servant dealt badly with God, for he says, "I went astray." Then God, in mercy, dealt with him in chastening — "I was afflicted." Affliction broke his will, and now he submits to God's will.
Asking is not the whole of it. Teaching also needs the right state of heart:
God's thought is that we should have understanding to appreciate His instruction, His teaching and counsel. These reach us first and foremost in His Word. Of course we must study His Word carefully. But we also need the right state of heart and mind to profit by our study. That state is not described in this psalm, but in Psalm 25: "He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way."
- Good. The section's keyword. God is good, He does good, and He has dealt well with His servant — that verdict on the past is where the prayer starts.
- Judgment. Not condemnation but discernment and guidance — the sound judgment of someone able to give wise counsel.
- Believing. The stated reason for the prayer. Faith comes before knowledge; lose that order and knowledge only puffs up.
- Training. Discernment does not arrive automatically. It comes with practice, and God permits the evil around us so that we learn to hate it.
- Sight. The goal is moral vision, kept alive by God's statutes — an eye left in the dark wastes away.
Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep thy word.
Psalm 119:67 is a man's honest look back at his own life. He can name the moment his wandering stopped. It was the moment God's hand fell on him. The verse raises two hard questions — why did it take pain to bring him back, and what exactly did the pain do?
The line is not a complaint. It is the psalmist taking God's side against his own past, and admitting who dealt badly with whom.
The servant of the Lord justifies God in His dealings, however painful. "You have dealt well with your servant." There was a time when the servant dealt badly with God, for he says, "I went astray." Then God, in mercy, dealt with him in chastening — "I was afflicted." Affliction broke his will, and now he submits to God's will.
The verse dates the wandering to the time before trouble came. Easy days are the ground where believers slip. David's own story shows it.
Let us clearly understand that days of ease are not the best for us, and we shall be greatly helped. David's up-and-down life gives striking proof of this. When his prosperity was at its peak, he forgot the God whose goodness had followed him all his life... But in the darkest hour of that strange story, when his own son hunted him for his blood and his only bed was the cold ground on a hillside, he could still sing to God. Prosperity and the palace, with forgetfulness of God, gave birth to sin. Adversity, with the Lord at hand, produced the Psalm that sings its music to our souls even in these testing times.
Affliction here is not a break in God's care. It is part of it.
The verse ends not with "now I am wiser" but with keeping God's word. Suffering by itself has no power to produce that; it is meant to open the ear.
Affliction, beloved friends, does not do you any good apart from the tender ministry of Christ in His word. Affliction is to bring your ear to the Word. Christ always wants to drop a word into your ear. He knows how to help the weary with a word.
This is why the same trouble produces opposite results in different people. Pain does not improve anyone on its own.
Afflictions on the godly make them better, but afflictions on the wicked make them worse. The godly pray more (Ps. 130:1). The wicked blaspheme more... Affliction on the godly is like crushing spices: the smell is sweet and fragrant. Affliction on the wicked is like pounding weeds with a pestle: it only makes them smell worse.
What the psalmist describes still happens. One writer traces the usual course of a believer's recovery, and where the blow tends to land.
One has wandered from God and apparently been left for a time to his own devices. He may have done well in worldly matters, and everything looks fine. Yet he has clearly compromised his character as a pilgrim and his integrity as a man of faith. God has kept silence. Then perhaps when the shame of such a course is most obvious, the blow falls. Property has been swept away, loved ones perhaps have been taken... Pride, self-sufficiency and hypocrisy once marked him. Now we find a humbled and chastened spirit instead. He turns to God, and the proud soul has found in its affliction the only meeting point between a wandering saint and a holy God.
The verse also fits anyone God has stopped in his tracks. One writer notes that after three days inside the great fish, Jonah — the prophet who ran from God's command — could have said these very words about himself.
Jonah could certainly have said after his strange experience, "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I have kept Your Word." (Ps. 119:67).
- Straying — the wandering came first, and it came in the easy days. Prosperity plus forgetfulness of God is where the fall begins.
- Discipline — God did not stand back and watch. His rod belongs among the "all things" that work good for His people.
- Word — trouble on its own heals nobody. Its purpose is to bring your ear back to what Christ is saying to you.
- Difference — the same affliction makes the godly better and the wicked worse. Crushed spices smell sweet; pounded weeds only smell worse.
- Verdict — looking back, the man takes God's side: God dealt well, only well, and the will that affliction broke now bends to His.
Thou art good, and doest good; teach me thy statutes.
The psalmist has just said that affliction brought him back from wandering. Out of that experience comes a confession about God's character. It is short, but it settles two things at once: who God is, and what God does. Then it turns into a prayer.
This confession does not come from a comfortable place. It comes from a man God has disciplined, and who has accepted it.
He recognises the goodness of God behind all God's dealings in discipline. So he can say, "You are good and do good." Because God is good, he wants God to teach him.
A heart still full of its own will could not have said it.
How full of grace God is as He follows us — though His government is righteous, and in general it must be! Sometimes He breaks the heart in kindness, as He knows how, when we have wandered away from Him. So the subdued heart comes to know God in His goodness: "You are good and do good." The desire of the heart is after God's ways. Now, "teach me your statutes" — that is the goodness the heart seeks.
The words are not a compliment paid to God alongside others. They mark Him out as unique. The Lord Jesus pressed the same point on a ruler who called Him good without seeing who He was.
The affliction was very necessary. It certainly works together for good to those who love God, leading them to keep His Word. With full confidence about God, we may gladly say, "You are good" (v. 68). This stands in contrast to all others, as the Lord Jesus told a ruler in Israel, "No one is good except God alone" (Luke 18:19). If the ruler had only realised that Jesus is God, he would not have addressed Him as he did. But since God is absolutely good, it follows that He does good. And since this is true, are our hearts not moved with deep desire that He would teach us His statutes?
More than rhythm joins the two halves of the line. What God does flows from what He is — and the prayer for teaching flows from both.
In all this we find One over all who is good and does good, whose acts truly agree with His nature. What a joy, then, to be taught His statutes, which enlighten the conscience and keep moral sight clear. In the darkness of a cave the eye is well known to waste away from simple disuse.
Some of God's dealings cannot be traced. This verse gives the believer somewhere to stand when explanation runs out.
In God's wisdom and knowledge there is a depth of riches. No creature can ever measure it, however high that creature stands. His judgments must be unsearchable, His ways past finding out to us (see Rom. 11:33-36). So there we have to stop. We rest on the assurance that because He is good, all His arrangements and choices must be good too. "You are good and do good," said the believer of Old Testament days (Ps. 119:68).
The confession ends in a prayer for teaching, not just in admiration. And that prayer has a Teacher to answer it.
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher, and through the instruments grace uses He can teach us the will of God (John 14:26). So let us echo the psalmist's prayer to the Lord: "…teach me your statutes." And remember what a statute means: "a divine direction to get our obedience, and to keep us from disobedience."
And what one heart learns here, others need to hear.
God is good and does good. No one could come to Him without receiving good, for He is good. But to hide away from Him can only bring evil and sorrow, now and for ever. The servants of the Lord have this business: to proclaim the goodness of God, and to proclaim it again. He is much slandered in these days, and it is a sad mark of the state of men that they would rather believe the lie about God than the truth, because the god of this world (the devil) has blinded their minds (2 Cor. 4:4).
- Good in nature. God is not just kind now and then. He is good in Himself, and, as the Lord Jesus said, no one else is.
- Good in action. Because His nature is good, His acts must be too — what He does agrees with what He is.
- Good in the discipline. Behind painful dealings stands the same goodness. The discipline that broke a wandering will works together for good.
- Good beyond tracing. Where His judgments cannot be traced, faith stops and rests on His goodness instead of an explanation.
- Good, so teach me. The right response is not applause. Ask Him to teach you His statutes — then tell others how good He is.
The proud have forged falsehood against me I will observe thy precepts with [my] whole heart.
Proud men are inventing charges against the psalmist. He does not defend his name; he takes a fresh grip on God's precepts. That raises two questions. Why does faithfulness attract lies, and what should a slandered believer do?
The ESV calls these men "the insolent"; older translations read "the proud," and the writers quoted here use that older wording. One writer traces the word back to its root and shows why such men cannot leave a godly man alone.
The psalmist is suffering from the slander of men. Their character is plain to see: they are the proud. They have a spirit of rebellion against restraint — literally, they boil up, like water. Simply bringing the heart under God stirs up their opposition. They slander what they have no wish to copy. In answer, he declares that he keeps the LORD's precepts with his whole heart.
The timing of the attack is worth noticing. One commentator asks when the wicked began to take any interest in this man at all.
While the godly man was going astray, the wicked took no notice of him. Now that he has returned to the path of obedience, they tell lies about him. But the lies of the enemy only energize the psalmist to keep the truth with his whole heart. In their prosperity the wicked care nothing for God's law. The restored soul delights in it.
Where does a made-up charge come from? One writer traces it past the men who tell it, to the enemy behind them.
Here we have the first mention of the adversary. Verses 69 and 70 show how much we need the Word of God to strengthen us in trouble, as the title over this section points out. Satan is called "the accuser of our brothers," and also "a liar and the father of lies." His children of course share the same character. This verse says they "have forged a lie" against the godly man.
Notice what the psalmist does not do. He does not answer the charge, trace its source, or clear his name. He turns to the precepts — and the same writer draws the practical line for us.
Let us never be surprised when this happens to us. However, if they are busy forging lies, let us who love the truth be busy with the Word of God. The verse here helps us as it goes on: "with my whole heart I keep your precepts."
But does the lie not still do its damage? Another commentator meets that worry head on.
"The proud," that is, those who think they are good, have forged a lie against others they think are not as good as themselves. But in the end, will a lie ever hurt us? No! God makes all things work together for good to those who love Him. So our hearts can be free to keep God's precepts. This very attitude gains a complete victory over all the falsity of the enemy.
The phrase "with my whole heart" keeps returning in this psalm. One writer turns it into a test for the reader.
You should earnestly seek to be whole-hearted in your Christian life and testimony. Observe how many times the phrase, "whole heart," occurs in Psalm 119. It carries the thought that thoroughness must mark everyone who has to do with God.
Keeping God's law with the whole heart can sound like hard labour. One writer links it instead to staying power and to freedom.
"Give me understanding," he says again in his earnestness, "that I may keep your law and observe it with my whole heart." Two things belong together here: the "whole heart" and keeping the law "to the end." In the next verse he says again, "I delight in your law." So there is no slavery in this. A man held by his affections is the freest man there is, and that is the case here.
- Provoked — Bring your heart under God and the proud take offence. They slander obedience they will not copy.
- Timed — While he wandered they ignored him; his return to the path is what drew their lies.
- Sourced — The father of lies is also the accuser, and those who forge charges share his character.
- Answered — They are busy with lies; be busy with the Word. Occupation, not self-defence, is the reply the verse models.
- Whole — Thoroughness marks every dealing with God. A heart held by love keeps His precepts to the end, and that is freedom, not slavery.
Their heart is as fat as grease as for me, I delight in thy law.
The psalmist sets two hearts side by side. One is unfeeling like fat. His own delights in God's law. Older translations read the first line "their heart is as fat as grease," and commentators work from that image to ask one question: what makes a person unable to feel God's word?
The Hebrew word in this line is about feeling, not body weight. One writer gives its plain sense:
Verse 70: TAH-PHASH … "without feeling (fat as grease)"
Fat carries a settled meaning across Scripture. One writer collects the places where Scripture uses fat of people:
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.
Comfort is part of the problem here. One commentator reads this verse with the one before it, and traces what changed when the psalmist came back to God:
When he was going astray the wicked were indifferent to the godly man. Now that he has returned to the path of obedience, they speak lies about him. But the lies of the enemy only energize the psalmist to keep the truth with his whole heart. The wicked in their prosperity are completely indifferent to God's law. The restored soul delights in it.
The slander is not random. A heart set on God provokes people who want no restraint on themselves:
The psalmist is suffering from the slander of men. Their character is plain: they are the proud. They have a spirit of rebellion against restraint — literally, men who boil up, like water. The mere subjection of the heart to God rouses the opposition of such men, who slander what they have no mind to imitate. In answer he says that he keeps Jehovah's precepts with his whole heart. But their heart is as fat as grease. Their coarse nature hinders every right affection: "for me," he says, "I delight in Your law."
The dullness is self-made. Pride wraps the layer around the heart:
"Their heart is as fat as grease" (v. 70). That is, those who were proud of themselves had in effect insulated their hearts against the truth of God. That leaves people grossly dull. How great is the contrast in the believer, who delights in God's law!
One writer reads the fat heart as no link with God at all. He sets it beside the psalmist's own story of straying, discipline and return:
He had been under discipline. Before this he had gone astray. Now he had come into the spirit and path of obedience. He sees the proud lying against him, and their heart fat as grease — no link in state or obedience with Jehovah. And he sees how good it was to have been afflicted, so that he might learn Jehovah's statutes.
The same image has another side. Here the fat is not kept for self but given to God:
The kidneys, the seat of the feelings, and the fat, the expression of human will in the energy of life (Job 15:27; Ps. 17:10; Ps. 119:70), are here offered to God — surely expressing Him who came not to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him (John 6:38).
- Feeling. The Hebrew word behind "fat as grease" means without feeling. Such a heart has lost the power to be moved, not just the will to obey.
- Will. In Scripture fat stands for the energy and force of a person's inward will. A fat heart keeps that will; on the altar the same fat was given to God.
- Insulation. Self-satisfaction wraps a layer around the heart that shuts out the truth of God and leaves the mind dull.
- Opposition. A heart subject to God stirs up the proud. They slander what they have no intention of copying.
- Delight. The psalmist answers both the lies and the deadness with appetite. He delights in God's law — the mark of a soul brought back.
It is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes.
In the ninth section of Psalm 119, the writer looks back. He can now say that his suffering did him good — and he names exactly what he gained by it: he learned God's statutes.
Verse 71 only makes sense next to verse 67. The order matters: straying came first, and the affliction was God's answer to it.
(vv. 65–67) The servant of the Lord justifies God in His dealings, however painful. "You have dealt well with your servant." There was a time when the servant dealt badly with God, for he says, "I went astray." Then God, in mercy, dealt with him by chastening — "I was afflicted." Affliction broke his will. Now he submits to God's will.
What changed in him was not his circumstances but his direction — he now wants what God wants.
He had been under discipline. Before this he had gone astray. Now he had come into the spirit and path of obedience... Nothing marks the setting right of the soul more than the turning to Jehovah's will — "Lord, what will you have me to do?" Such a soul counts everything good that leads to this, and that gives God's will its authority and its proper place in the heart.
The psalmist does not say he learned God's statutes despite the affliction. He says the affliction was the means. Commentators explain this as God's usual way with His people.
The school of affliction is where the best lessons of faith are learned. That school is necessary, because even God's saints do not learn in any other way — at least, few learn deeply outside it. Human nature is so deeply evil that few lessons are learned without tears. The Father has to chasten every son He receives.
Trouble also teaches us about ourselves in a way no lesson can.
A sick bed often teaches more than a sermon; we see the ugly face of sin most clearly in the mirror of affliction.
The psalmist calls God good — the same God whose hand afflicted him.
The affliction was very necessary, and it certainly works together for good to those who love God, leading them to keep His Word. With complete confidence in God, we may gladly say, "You are good" (v. 68)... And since this is true, are our hearts not moved with a deep desire that He would teach us His statutes?
Affliction takes something away from everyone — but not the same thing.
When affliction or death comes to a wicked man, it takes away his soul; when it comes to a godly man it only takes away his sin... "when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world" (1 Cor. 11:32). He works sin out and works grace in.
Suffering does not do everyone good. Verse 71 is a testimony, not a rule of nature. The same pressure produces opposite results in different hearts.
Afflictions make the godly better, but afflictions make the wicked worse. The godly pray more (Ps. 130:1). The wicked blaspheme more... Every plague on Egypt increased the plague of hardness in Pharaoh's heart. Affliction on the godly is like crushing spices: they become sweeter and more fragrant. Affliction on the wicked is like pounding weeds with a pestle, which only makes them fouler.
Affliction leaves the psalmist holding something he did not own before.
And the very affliction he has passed through has served him. It made him learn more deeply the character of those statutes he suffered for breaking. We all must be aware how surely we learn this way. As a result, the law of Jehovah's mouth now has a value for him beyond earthly riches. It is his real possession.
One writer, in the middle of his work for God, found the verse becoming his own.
In the middle of such service, my Father and God saw it right and necessary to afflict me. I can truly say, "It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes."
- Astray — The trouble did not come out of nowhere. Verse 67 supplies the cause: he had wandered, and God's chastening was mercy aimed at a broken will.
- Good — The hand that afflicted him is the hand he calls good. Affliction is not proof that God has turned against you; it is how He works sin out and grace in.
- School — Deep lessons are rarely learned in comfort. A sick bed can teach what a sermon cannot, because it shows you yourself.
- Two hearts — The same crushing makes spices fragrant and weeds fouler. Suffering only profits the one who submits to God through it.
- Gain — What he walks away with is a possession: God's word now worth more to him than earthly riches. That is why he calls the affliction good.
The law of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver.
Just before this, the psalmist said his affliction was good for him. Now he names what it gained: God's word outweighs any fortune — and the verse asks whether we can say the same.
This is not a cool opinion about Scripture. It is the verdict of a man who learned the Word's worth while suffering.
In affliction he has learned to value the Word above the thousands of gold and silver that the proud boast in. So he can say, "It is good for me that I was afflicted."
What did that affliction teach him? One writer points to the very rules he had broken.
The very affliction he has passed through has served him. It made him learn more deeply the character of those statutes — the very statutes he broke, and suffered for breaking. Everyone must know how surely we learn this way. As a result, the law of Jehovah's mouth has taken on a value beyond earthly riches: it is his real possession.
The phrase is not "the law of the book" but the law of God's mouth. That wording ties the words to the Speaker, and gives them a double use.
The law of God's mouth is precious above all. It is the expression of His own perfect mind and will, and of His will about us. We live by it, but we live on it too, and with delight, as coming from Him and perfect for us.
"Law" here does not mean cold rules. Its root meaning explains why a man would trade money for it.
Verse 72 contrasts thousands of gold and silver with the law of Your mouth. The Psalmist chooses the law, that is, the Word of God. What do we choose? The meaning of the word "Law" is: a divine instruction about our conduct and our character. Its root meaning is "to guide." The writer would give up anything, gold or silver, for God's guidance in his life. He longs to know the Lord's will for every step of the way.
To someone without faith, this trade sounds mad. One writer answers that reaction by pointing to people who paid the price.
"Better than silver or gold." Tell this to a man of the world and he will think you are mad. Of course it is better than thousands of gold and silver. Of course it is above fine gold. It deals with eternal issues. The new Christians in Ephesus had the right idea in Acts 19. They destroyed unholy books — books of sorcery that directly opposed God's word. The cost in money was enormous. But that did not matter to them. They had something better than silver or gold. Luke tells us they destroyed 50,000 drachmas' worth. A drachma was a day's wage for an ordinary working man, so that is about 150 years of wages — a huge sum.
These words are easy to say. The test is not whether we agree, but whether agreeing costs us any effort.
It is a small thing to say to Him, "The law of Your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces." If saying it with the psalmist costs our soul an effort, we know very little of the sweetness of that true honeycomb. But we should also learn to say: may Your testimonies, Lord, be my counsellor as well as my delight! By them may Your servant be warned, and in keeping them find great reward!
One writer ties that treasure to how near we live to God.
If we are not living in His presence day by day, we will find no precious treasure in His words (Ps. 119:72).
Some commentators read this psalm forward, to a day still to come. It speaks, they say, of a faithful part of Israel — the remnant.
This eightfold new-covenant Psalm shows us how God will write the law in the heart and mind of the godly Jewish remnant. In the end they will own Jesus as the Christ, with all sins forgiven and forgotten. Then the soul sings from experience, "The law of Your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces."
- Cause — affliction. He did not assume this value; he learned it. He suffered for breaking the statutes, and so they became his real possession.
- Gift — God's mouth. The worth lies in the Speaker. His word expresses His own perfect mind and will. We live by it, and we live on it.
- Guidance — the point of "law." Its root sense is to guide. He would give up any amount of gold to know God's will for every step.
- Reach — a price the world calls madness. The believers in Ephesus destroyed a fortune in books. They had something better than silver or gold.
- Result — a song without effort. If saying this verse costs the soul an effort, we know little of its sweetness. The treasure goes to those who live near God.
YOD. Thy hands have made me and fashioned me give me understanding, and I will learn thy commandments.
The verse puts two things side by side. God's hands shaped this body. Then comes a prayer for the inner sense to learn what He commands. Commentators read the second half as resting on the first: the psalmist asks his Maker for what only his Maker can give.
The verse opens with origin. One writer notes that the making was individual. He sets it beside the psalmist's honest view of his own small understanding.
The psalmist here recognizes and considers the actions and ways of God with him. What he considers first is that God's hands have made him (v. 73). God fashioned him in a distinct way, for every individual is distinct, not cast in the same mould at all. Amazing fact! For the works of men are so limited that they would be helpless to imitate the great variety of God's works. But the psalmist also recognizes how limited his understanding is. So he pleads with God for at least enough understanding to learn His commandments.
Job said the same thing, then added that God had destroyed him. One writer sets that beside our verse, and turns the study of the human body into a case for the Creator.
Job adds to this: "Your hands fashioned and made me, and now you have destroyed me altogether" (Job 10:8). Let God be true, and every man a liar. Let me study the circulatory system, plasma, the nervous system, the brain, the eye or any other part of the body … "give me understanding …," and I will know that God created me, and that I am a responsible, intelligent human being answerable to Him.
The word "fashioned" carries weight. The making had care and purpose in it. That makes the prayer more than a hope. What the psalmist asks for is what his Maker was aiming at all along. The same writer then carries the argument from the first creation into the new.
The basic fact here is a Creator-God. He must therefore be for the work of His hands. His hands have made us, and not roughly, but fashioned us so as to be witnesses of His handiwork. He must intend, then, that His creature fill the place He made him for. He will not deny the understanding needed for this. Psalm 139 dwells on this argument at length. The New Testament puts it in the strongest possible way for the Christian. Here we can speak of new creation, and of the word of God as that by which He has given us birth to Himself. There is no fear that He may deny it to us. To us it is like milk to a newborn baby — the one thing its nature must have.
Not everyone welcomes the truth that they did not make themselves. One writer says this prayer only rises from a heart that already knows God in grace.
The soul now looks to God, depending on Him for man's very being. So He should direct and guide it. Peter wrote the same thing: we entrust our souls to a faithful Creator while doing good. Only the heart that knows Him in grace can do this. Otherwise we seek our own will in resistance to Him. But once we know Him, we know Him in all that He is, according to the truth of His nature in grace… I only exist by Your work. So make me walk with a heart set by You and a path guided by You.
The psalmist does not ask for information. He asks for a life that fits the One whose hands shaped him.
The Lord's servant owns that he is the creature of God's hands. So he pleads for understanding, that he may learn the will of God and walk in a way that suits his Creator.
This line opens a section of eight verses. What it sets down shapes what follows, including the gladness of those who fear God.
To learn the divine commandments, the creature needs understanding from his Creator. The knowledge gained in this way brings joy to those who fear the Lord.
- Made — God's hands did the work, and did it distinctly. He casts no two people in the same mould.
- Fashioned — He shaped us with care and purpose, to show His handiwork. He did not throw us together.
- Answerable — because He made us, each person is a responsible, intelligent being who must answer to Him.
- Given — He made the creature for a place, so He will not hold back the understanding needed to fill it.
- Walking — the understanding asked for has one aim: a life that suits the One who made it.
They that fear thee will see me, and rejoice; because I have hoped in thy word.
In verse 73 the psalmist tells God that His hands made him, and asks for understanding to learn His commandments. Verse 74 turns outward: why should one man's hope in God's word make anybody else glad?
The gladness of verse 74 rests on verse 73. One writer reads the two verses as one movement.
The Lord's servant admits that God's hands made him. So he asks for understanding, to learn the will of God and to walk in a way that fits his Creator. All who fear the Lord will gladly recognise the man who acknowledges God in this way and trusts His Word.
Another writer sums up the whole eight-verse section in one line.
The psalmist looks to the Lord as a faithful Creator, and counts on those who fear Him. He afflicted for good, and so He would also show loving-kindness.
The verse turns on a moment of sight. One writer says what these people recognise in each other.
They also recognise one another as belonging to a company known even then as a family of faith. So the psalmist says here: "Those who fear you shall see me and rejoice" — a joyful glance of recognition. And here is the mark by which they recognise each other: "because I have hoped in your word."
The same writer counts this recognition as one of three facts the psalmist stands on. The third is how God deals with His people.
"I know, Lord, that Your judgments are right, and that in faithfulness You have afflicted me." So three things are recognised here: God, His people, and the relationship between them. His word has authority over them all. It is their joyful confidence, and His acts always match it.
What ties these people together is one shared hope. It also shapes how they take God's dealings with them.
Those who fear God will be glad to recognise one another and enjoy their fellowship, because their mutual hope is in the Word of God (v. 74), and they have full confidence that His judgments are right. This involves the recognition that it is God's faithfulness that sees fit to send affliction to His servants. Yet along with the affliction he desires God's merciful kindness to be his comfort (v. 76). These are not contrary to one another, both being fully in accord with the Word God has spoken.
The gladness comes from what others see a believer live through. One writer points to Paul writing from prison.
The apostle Paul speaks of this in Philippians 1:14: "And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear." They had seen how Paul could rejoice in the middle of persecution and trial, and how he had hoped in the Word of the Lord. How do others see you and me? Whether we are aware of it or not, we are an influence for good or for bad. So we are strongly reminded of our own responsibility to be a help and a blessing, and not a hindrance.
The same phrase, "I hoped in your word," comes back later in the psalm. One writer shows what that hope looks like in practice.
His dependence is not just a passive admission that he owes God in a general way. It is an active, whole-hearted dependence that calls on God. It is so earnest that it makes the believer rise before dawn to cry to the Lord. And his dependence comes out of confidence, for he can say, "I hoped in your word." So the godly man is marked by dependence, obedience, and confidence.
- Maker. The hope starts where verse 73 starts: God's own hands made this man, and we can count on a faithful Creator.
- Word. Hope rests on what God has said. It shows as dependence, obedience and confidence — not a mood.
- Mark. Hoping in His word is the badge by which the family of faith knows its own; the recognition is a joyful glance.
- Affliction. God afflicts in faithfulness and comforts in kindness. Both agree with the word He has spoken.
- Influence. Others watch. A life that hopes under trial makes them bolder, as Paul's chains did. We influence people whether we mean to or not.
I know, Jehovah, that thy Judgments are righteousness, and that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me.
Psalm 119:75 is the settled verdict of a man who has been hurt and has thought it through. He puts God's rightness and his own pain in one sentence, and he starts with "I know," not "I hope."
One writer traces how the heart reaches such knowledge. It comes by two roads at once: who God is, and the rightness of God not leaving evil alone.
When the soul truly knows God, it rises up to justify Him in His ways, however painful. So the heart knows in a double way that His judgments are right. They are His, and we know what He is. He cannot but do rightly, and more than that, rightly towards us. He is faithful to us in goodness. But then, second, we see that it is morally right. God ought not to allow evil — above all, not in His people. For their good He could not.
One writer treats "in faithfulness" as a third thing the psalmist stands on. God is not only at work in the past. He is present now, and He stays true to what He is.
But there is a third thing now. It assures us of a Living Presence — not only at the beginning or in the past, but continuing right through human history. He stays faithful to His own nature, which is holy, and faithful to His people in His dealings with them. So in these three things, God, His people, and the relationship between them are all recognised.
To say "Your rules are righteous" is to take God's side in the case. Commentators treat this as the turning point where the discipline has done its work.
When the awakened soul, like the dying criminal, justifies God and condemns himself, he is on the eve of forgiveness and blessing. And when the believer under chastisement justifies God, the end is reached, for he has "heard" the rod and who appointed it.
The psalmist does not stop at submission. He bows to the faithful hand, and still counts on kindness.
Even in afflicting him, God had acted in faithfulness. While submitting to God's faithful dealings, he can, in the middle of affliction, count on God's merciful kindness to comfort him, and on His tender mercy to spare him.
The verse names God as the one who struck. So faith has to look past whoever or whatever stood in between.
Let the sufferer simply say, "It is Your hand," "I know that in faithfulness You have afflicted me." The Scriptures are full of this precious truth for the child of God. It leads us past every apparent cause, past all human instruments, and even past Satan himself. Then we see that Hand which "will never cause His child a needless tear." So our blessed Lord took that great affliction at the hands of God: "Shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?"
The affliction has a target: pride, unbelief, and the idols a heart has set up. Where there is any willingness to turn, it does its work.
God's judgments are meant to break down the pride and unbelief of the heart. They do this wherever there is the least trace of submission to Him, the least desire to turn from wickedness to Himself. This is what all chastening does in those who are truly trained by it: "For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?" God's people have known the rod from the beginning. How many have had reason to bless Him beyond measure for the overthrow of idols they had set up, the loss of property, of health, yes, even of life itself!
One writer puts this verse in the mouth of one of the Bible's worst offenders. Manasseh, a king of Judah, was brought low by affliction.
"He humbled himself greatly," as well he might, for his guilt was indeed very great. "When he was in affliction" — no doubt he owned that his punishment was just. "I know, O LORD," he could say, "that Your rules are righteous, and that in faithfulness You have afflicted me."
- Know. Faith says "I know," not "I suppose." It rests on two things at once: who God is, and the plain rightness of what He does.
- Right. To call His rules righteous is to justify God and condemn yourself. Commentators say that is the point where the chastening has reached its goal.
- Faithful. "In faithfulness" means the blow comes from a God true to His own holy nature. He is true to His people too.
- His hand. Whatever the visible cause, faith looks past it and says, "It is Your hand." The Lord Himself took His cup from the Father like that.
- Fruit. The rod aims at pride, unbelief and idols. Where there is the least willingness to turn, even a Manasseh can say this verse and mean it.
Oh let thy loving-kindness be for my comfort, according to thy word unto thy servant.
This prayer comes straight after the psalmist admits that God afflicted him — and did it faithfully. Now he asks the hand that struck him to comfort him, and he asks on the ground of God's own promise.
The two halves belong together. The one who justifies God for the affliction is the same one who asks God for comfort in it.
He not only owns that God has fashioned him, but he justifies God in all His dealings with him. Even in afflicting him God had acted in faithfulness. He submits to God's faithful dealings. Yet in the middle of affliction he can still count on God's merciful kindness to comfort him, and on His tender mercy to spare him.
The same God stands behind both the wound and the comfort, and His character does not change between them.
The psalmist looks to the Lord as a faithful Creator, and counts on those who fear Him. As He afflicted for good, so would He show loving-kindness.
A reader might expect the psalmist to ask for the trouble to stop. Instead he asks for kindness inside the trouble, and both requests rest on the same authority.
This means recognizing that God's faithfulness sees fit to send affliction to His servants. Yet along with the affliction he desires God's merciful kindness to be his comfort (v. 76). These are not contrary to one another, both being fully in accord with the Word God has spoken.
There is a wrong way and a right way to want relief. The difference lies in whether the will has been broken.
Merely looking for relief is self-will. If we got that relief, it might bring us more sorrow. But a will that is subdued and broken under chastening is right to desire mercy. It knows this side of God's character, and it wants Him to show it, if possible.
A bowed heart still longs for relief. But it looks for that relief from God, and not on its own terms.
The sense that the chastening comes from God gives submission. And when that submission is complete, it also gives the desire for His favour. One still wants relief. But a subdued heart, while it naturally wants relief, seeks God's favour in it, and comfort from God, not in self-will: "Let your steadfast love comfort me." The apostle speaks of "God, who comforts the downcast."
The closing words — according to God's promise to His servant — are the ground of the whole request. God did not leave His people to guess at His goodness; He bound Himself in words.
He prays that His loving-kindness may be his comfort, according to His promise to him. For God has pledged Himself to His people. It was not enough for Him to say, "You know Me, and that I cannot err or do wrong. Let this be enough for you." We are too frail, too dim-sighted, too little able to see His ways in advance. That could not satisfy us, or satisfy Him about us. So divine love has pledged itself to us and made its covenant with man. And if His word is not enough, He swears as well: "by two unchangeable things" — "His word and His oath" — "we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us." (Heb. 6:17-18.)
That phrase also sets a boundary. You can plead a promise only while you are walking in the way the promise covers.
So we may come with "confidence" to what Scripture calls a "throne of grace" (Heb. 4:16), to find help for the whole way that is His way for us. For any other way we could neither expect nor rightly desire it. This is the force of "according to Your word to Your servant" here. For prayer is crippled, and we lose confidence in it, if our wills fight against God's will.
This prayer does not come from strength. It is the cry of someone who knows he cannot hold himself up. (Older versions say "merciful kindness" or "mercy" where the ESV says "steadfast love.")
Like the psalmist we can pray this prayer: "Please let Your mercy be for my comfort…" (literal rendering). We are so vulnerable, so frail, so weak, so insignificant, but He knows our frailty! That is why we need Him to enfold us in His arms. What comfort a little child finds in his mother's arms when he has fallen!
- Affliction — the psalmist first agrees with God: God afflicted him, and did it faithfully.
- Submission — a broken will may still ask for mercy. Only self-will demands relief on its own terms.
- Plea — he asks not for the pain to end, but for God's kindness to comfort him inside it. The two are not opposites.
- Pledge — his confidence rests on God's word and oath. God gave both because we are too frail and short-sighted to rest on His character alone.
- Comfort — the prayer ends where the frail belong: enfolded, like a fallen child in his mother's arms.
Let thy tender mercies come unto me, that I may live; for thy law is my delight.
This verse is a prayer from someone under God's chastening hand, asking for mercy to reach him so that he can go on living. Two questions sit inside it: what mercy does he ask for, and what right does a sufferer have to ask?
One writer draws out the tenderness behind the word "mercy":
The mercies of God are "tender mercies." They are the mercies of a father to his children — as tender as a mother's compassion for the son she bore. They "come to" us when we are not able to go to them. By them alone we live the life of faith, of love, of joy and gladness. And God will grant these mercies, and this life, to those who delight in His law. He will give them pardon, and in doing so He will give them "life from the dead."
That fits someone too low to travel. The same writer pictures the moment such a prayer is prayed:
Here we invite a Visitor, and we expect Him to bring what we so badly need at this moment. There has been failure. I have failed in my responsibility. I am conscious of defeat and am discouraged. I hesitate to come to Him, but He is already "on the way" to me to lift me up and comfort me.
He asks not just for comfort but for life. Mercy is what keeps spiritual life going under pressure:
The same argument runs into this verse: "For Your law is my delight." So He can freely show His tender mercies. They are so necessary for life itself in a world of conflict — so necessary for strengthening spiritual life.
The sufferer never blames God for the affliction. He owns it as faithfulness, then asks for kindness inside it:
He not only owns that God has fashioned him, but he justifies God in all His dealings with him. Even in afflicting him God had acted in faithfulness. He submits to God's faithful dealings. Even in the middle of affliction, he can count on God's merciful kindness to comfort him, and on His tender mercy to spare him. He can plead this with a clear conscience, for God's law is his delight. There was a time when he went astray and sought his own will; now he delights in God's will.
Wanting the pain to stop can be nothing but self-will. One writer marks the difference:
Merely looking for relief is self-will. If we got it, it might bring us more sorrow. But a will subdued and broken under chastening is right to desire mercy. It knows this side of God's character, and it longs for Him to show it, if possible. In this case it can plead its integrity. The desire is right when submission is complete, so that the heart feels the goodness to be in God. So here, "For Your law is my delight."
The word "law" here is wider than the Ten Commandments:
But does not David say, "Your law is my delight" (Ps. 119:77)? A Hebrew concordance shows that the Hebrew has six different words for "law." … Another word, tohr-ah, appears 25 times in Psalm 119, and the margin of Psalm 19:7 translates it "doctrine." … "Law" here no doubt covers the whole teaching of the Lord to His people, whether in the Ten Commandments or elsewhere. For the Christian, he is in Christ, and he is "to walk as he walked." That is the standard.
So the law meets him as delight, not as threat:
Whatever name the law goes by, it no longer threatens condemnation and death. It is perfect delight and liberty.
- Afflicted — he says God is right before he asks for anything. Even the affliction was God's faithfulness to him.
- Asking — a broken will may ask for relief and be right. The same prayer from an unbroken will is only self-will.
- Arriving — the mercies "come to" us when we cannot go to them. The discouraged man hesitates, and finds God already on the way.
- Alive — mercy is not a comfort added to life but the supply life runs on in a world of conflict.
- Aligned — the plea rests on a changed heart. Once he sought his own will; now God's whole teaching is his delight. For the Christian, the standard is to walk as Christ walked.
Let the proud be ashamed; for they have acted perversely towards me with falsehood as for me, I meditate in thy precepts.
Just before this, the psalmist said that God's discipline had been faithful and good for him (v. 75). Now he meets a different trouble: proud people wrong him for no reason, and he answers with a prayer about them and a choice about his own thoughts.
God's dealings with him and the proud men's dealings with him were not alike. One was faithful; the other had no cause at all.
God had dealt with him faithfully, for his good. But the proud had dealt perversely with him, and without a cause. He looks for them to be ashamed.
The whole psalm carries this sense of being wronged.
He had met with reproach and contempt. Princes too had been talking against him (22, 23, 42), so he asks the LORD not to let him be put to shame (31). The proud had mocked him, yet he had not turned aside from God's law (51). They forged a lie against him (69), and overthrew him wrongfully (78).
Some translations call them the insolent, others the proud. The word points to a settled attitude, not bad manners.
This brings him to the conflict. He prays that the proud may be ashamed — those who assert their own independent will. In his case that will proved to be nothing but perversity and falsehood. For him, God's precepts were his meditation.
The second half of the verse is a choice about where his attention will go. Others have wronged him, and he refuses to give the wrong his time.
If anyone is to be ashamed, let it be the proud who do not hesitate to act in falsehood, treating the godly wrongfully. But instead of meeting such treatment with resentment, the psalmist has set himself to use his time more wisely: he meditates on God's precepts. This is an example we should follow with care.
The same pattern appears elsewhere in the psalm. God has already rebuked his opponents, so the psalmist does not argue back.
He sees that God has rebuked them and that they are under a curse. There is no need to answer those whom God rebukes. So the psalmist stays silent when they speak harshly, and finds his delight and counsel in God's testimonies.
Asking God to shame the proud can sound like revenge. One writer ties the prayer to God's own character. The psalmist keeps his distance instead of hitting back.
He senses that the proud will is what God judges. In the time of grace the Christian wants that will to be changed. Yet he knows that not everyone has faith. Here the wish that they be ashamed matches the righteous character of God. The faithful one keeps himself apart, and meditates on God's revealed will.
Opponents can end up ashamed another way: they look at a believer's life and find nothing to accuse. The Lord Jesus is the pattern, hated without a cause.
The Lord Jesus Christ could say: "They hated Me without a cause" (Ps. 35:19; Ps. 69:4; John 15:25). How then could those "proud" who deal perversely, be made "ashamed"? Surely when they find no real reason to criticise or condemn us — nothing inconsistent, nothing offensive in our lives? When they see our good works they must give glory to God! "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven" (Matt. 5:16).
That turns the question on us, not on our critics.
What kind of people are we? What impression do we give to others? What influence do we spread around us? Is it positive? Are we like the Lord Jesus? Or do we come across as superior, arrogant, unpleasant? Do we give others cause to oppose us in any way?
- Cause — God's afflictions came in faithfulness, for his good. The wrong from the proud came for no cause at all.
- Character — "The proud" assert their own independent will. Here that will showed itself as perversity and lies.
- Choice — Instead of resentment, the psalmist spends his time meditating on God's precepts. Writers call this a pattern to follow.
- Committal — He leaves the prayer for their shame with God, whose righteous character judges the proud will. The believer keeps apart and meditates rather than answering back.
- Consequence — Opponents end up ashamed when they can find nothing in our lives to accuse. So the verse asks about our conduct, not just theirs.
Let those that fear thee turn unto me, and those that know thy testimonies.
Proud men have wronged the psalmist without cause. Now he turns in a different direction. He asks God for the company of people who fear Him. It is a prayer for human company, and it names one mark of the people he wants: they know God's testimonies.
Verses 73–80 form one section of this long psalm. Two convictions hold it together: God made him, and God afflicted him in faithfulness. His prayer for company comes last, out of that settled confidence.
The tenth part has two main thoughts. Jehovah is his Creator — He has formed him. He looks to Him to guide His own poor creature as a faithful Creator... Second, he knows that God has afflicted him in that very faithfulness. So now he looks for mercies to come to him, for the proud to be ashamed, and for those who fear Jehovah to turn to him. All this is linked with soundness in Jehovah's statutes.
Earlier in the section he asked God for comfort in his trouble. This verse takes the next step. He asks for what God gives through other people.
(vv. 79–80) He has sought the comfort of the Lord in his affliction. Now he desires the sympathy of the saints — "Let those who fear You turn to me." Encouraged in this way, he desires that his heart may be found perfect in God's Word, so that he may not, like the proud, be ashamed.
Notice who he asks for: not the crowd, but only those who fear God. And he asks God to turn them toward him.
The second half of the verse turns on God's testimonies. Older translations read it as a description of the people themselves: those who know His testimonies. The writers quoted here follow that reading. Such people can tell a man suffering for his own wrong from a man wronged by others. One writer points to a second reason they should take his side: how the psalmist himself behaves under it.
If anyone is to be ashamed, let it be the proud who do not hesitate to act in falsehood, treating the godly wrongfully. But the psalmist does not answer such treatment with resentment. He has set his heart on spending his time more wisely, meditating on God's precepts. This is surely an example for us to follow closely, as verse 79 implies... Others should recognize that the godly are wrongfully used, and they will do so if they know God's testimonies.
The verse asks for such people to come near. One writer warns of the opposite instinct — pulling away alone when faith grows cold among God's people.
But for the believer there is a second and more subtle danger than this, because it looks more reasonable. It is to isolate himself more and more as he sees the growth of indifference and worldliness among the children of God. This tendency is completely opposed to God's thought for His own. And it is exactly in view of these times of ruin that the prophet says to us, "Then those who feared the LORD spoke with one another." (Mal. 3:16.) The apostasy does not isolate those who fear the Lord; it drives them to come together. As the psalmist says, "I am a companion of all who fear You." (Ps. 119:63.)
He asks God for these companions instead of gathering them himself. That fits the whole psalm: one man speaking straight to God, with no one in between.
Still, all the way through, the address is direct, immediate, insistent. It is "God and I" dealing face to face. No go-between and no third party; no helper alongside. The exchange is personal, private, precious and prevailing.
One writer adds a caution about how a Christian should use this psalm:
To apply this psalm directly is to lower the divine standard of thought for the saint now. But the kind of moral exercise in it can teach us a great deal. Being subject to God and trusting Him in trial is always right, even though its form in the Jew falls far below the Christian's.
- Affliction first. The section starts with a man who calls God his Maker and accepts that God afflicted him in faithfulness.
- Comfort then company. Having asked God for merciful comfort, he goes on to ask for the sympathy of those who fear Him — God supplies both.
- Knowledge qualifies. Only those who know God's testimonies can see that the godly man is wronged and stand with him.
- Fear gathers. A cold day among God's people is no reason to withdraw alone. It is the very reason those who fear the Lord come together.
- Ask, don't arrange. He asks God for friends instead of gathering them himself. And the section ends where it should: a heart sound in God's statutes, never put to shame.
Let my heart be perfect in thy statutes, that I be not ashamed.
The tenth section of this psalm (verses 73–80) moves from God as Creator, through affliction and the proud, to this closing prayer about the psalmist's own heart. He asks for something no outward behaviour can give: a heart that is right inside. And he ties his freedom from shame to it.
This section of eight verses runs on two ideas. The last line ties them together.
The tenth part has two main thoughts. Jehovah is his Creator — He has formed him. He looks to Him to guide His own poor creature as a faithful Creator. Those who fear Jehovah will be glad when they see him, because they hope in His word. Second, he knows that God afflicted him in real faithfulness. Now he looks for mercies to come to him, for the proud to be ashamed, and for those who fear Jehovah to turn to him. All this is linked with soundness in Jehovah's statutes.
The verse asks for a blameless heart, not a blameless record. It aims at the gap between how we look and what we are.
This seems to be the key verse of this section. What a prayer this is! The literal sense is: "Let my heart be blameless in Your statutes so that I may not be ashamed." Verse 78 speaks of the "perverse." Yet might there not be a measure of hypocrisy in any one of us? Pretending to be so pious and spiritual on the outside, yet not totally yielded to the Lord Jesus? It is only when the Holy Spirit fills and directs and guides us that we shall be kept blameless. Then we shall not be ashamed before our own consciences, before the world's scrutiny, or ashamed in a coming day before the judgment seat of Christ.
The shame in view here is not the sting of a bad reputation.
Conscience and spiritual discernment go together. Shame does not come from people disapproving of us. It comes from a conscience that is not good according to God's revealed will… If my mind and soul have seen how excellent God's way is, then my conscience makes me ashamed when I am out of that way in every respect.
Just before this, the psalmist prays that the proud will be ashamed. That could sound like a man who thinks he stands safely above them. One writer answers that.
Nor can this be haughtiness on his own side when he claims it. No, he has need of the mercy of God to be shown to himself also, so that his heart may be made perfect in His statutes, and that he himself may not be ashamed.
The prayer stands at the end of a chain: affliction, comfort, fellowship, then a sound heart.
He has sought the comfort of the Lord in his affliction; now he desires the sympathy of the saints — "Let those who fear you turn to me." Encouraged in this way, he desires that his heart may be found perfect in God's Word, so that he may not be ashamed as the proud are.
Some believers will feel shame when Christ comes. One writer names the remedy.
Sad to say, there are some who will be ashamed before Him at His coming (1 John 2:28). This will be at the judgment seat of Christ, when we will see all our pathway down here as through His eyes. And what is the secret for us now, so that then we shall not be ashamed? Only this: "And now, little children, abide in Him!"
- Blameless — the prayer asks for a heart, not a reputation. Its enemy is a pious outside with an unyielded inside.
- Maker — this line closes a section where the psalmist owns God as the One who formed him. He accepts that God afflicted him in faithfulness, and ties it all to soundness in His statutes.
- Mercy — having asked that the proud be shamed, he asks mercy for himself, so his own heart may be made perfect. The prayer is a confession, not a boast.
- Shame — real shame is not what other people think of us. It is what a bad conscience says when we step outside God's way.
- Kept — first comfort from the Lord, then the sympathy of those who fear Him, then a sound heart. Kept that way, a believer is not ashamed before his own conscience, before the world, or at the judgment seat of Christ.
CAPH. My soul fainteth for thy salvation; I hope in thy word.
The psalmist is worn down to nothing while he waits. This part of the psalm records a prayer God has not yet answered. Two things in him give way — his soul and his eyes — yet one thing does not: his grip on what God has said.
The ESV says the soul "longs"; older translations read "faints." The word carries the sense of being used up. One writer gives the literal sense as a soul being consumed. He sees a man who has run out of every other option.
We cannot help ourselves; nor can anyone else help us. That is why we have this heartfelt cry: "My soul is being consumed for Your salvation…" (literal rendering). It is good to realise day by day what we sometimes sing in a hymn: "Now none but Christ can satisfy." Have we found this secret yet?
The trouble here is not new but deeper. As the weight grows, the writer leans not on his own strength but on what God has spoken.
Verses 81-88 go further. The pressure of the power of evil is greater, and the cry more earnest, but the word is fully trusted. This blessed revelation of God Himself, of His will and favour, that in which He cannot lie, maintains the heart through all. How precious to have a revelation of Himself as sure as Himself!
Earlier in the psalm this man asked God for comfort. It has not come, and the delay itself becomes part of the trial.
The godly man in trouble had looked to the Lord for comfort (v. 76), but the answer is slow and the pressure grows. He faints for deliverance. His eyes fail as he looks for the word to be fulfilled… Still, the deepening trial only brings out his confidence in God. His soul may faint, but hope in the Word of God remains: his eyes may fail, but faith still looks to God for comfort.
The verse holds two halves that pull against each other: a soul at the end of itself, and a settled hope. One writer explains why the two belong together.
In the extreme of necessity, his soul fainting for the deliverance that can come from God alone, His word is what he waits on in hope. There is plenty of comfort there, which still needs a living God to make it good. Faith fearlessly stakes everything on Him for this. But He sometimes seems slow to make His pledge good. This leaves room for exercise. That exercise is not against faith after all. It assumes faith, and faith finds in it its only means of existence. Faith has to do with what is not seen.
The next line of the psalm asks when the comfort will come. One writer treats that question as a lesson, not a failure.
Do we detect a note of impatience? "When will You comfort me?" Had he not been hoping in His word? (v. 81). Why does the Lord not act quickly? Do not let appearances discourage you… We sometimes want to limit the Lord to our timing. But we should leave everything in His hands. He is never too late. We must learn to persevere in faith and hope and the study of His Word, and take our eyes off our circumstances.
Commentators differ on what "salvation" means here. Some read it as deliverance for Israel still ahead, and mark a difference between that hope and the Christian's.
Here the prayer is urgent, as wickedness grows fast and he feels his weakness in the severest trial. This is not the hope of the Christian, who like Christ is to go on high. It is deliverance, as Israel expects and shall have, when God's judgments fall openly on the enemy.
Others read the same lines more broadly. They are the exercise of any afflicted believer under attack, looking to God for strength to hold His testimony.
In deep distress and exercise of soul the afflicted one looks for the Lord's salvation and the comfort of His word… In these hard conditions the righteous look to the Lord for help in their extremity. They count on His life-giving power, which gives the strength to keep His testimony.
- Consumed — Where the ESV says the soul "longs," a literal rendering is "consumed" — spent, used up. The cry comes from someone who cannot help himself and knows no one else can.
- Held — The soul may faint and the eyes may fail, but hope in God's word stays standing. The trial exposes confidence instead of destroying it.
- Hidden — Faith deals with what is not yet seen. God's delay is not the enemy of faith but the room where faith works.
- Delayed — The cure for impatience is not to hurry God but to take our eyes off our circumstances. He is never too late.
- Delivered — The salvation he waits for is real and coming. Commentators differ on its scope. Some read it as Israel's future rescue, others as help for any afflicted believer. Both rest the waiting on the same spoken word.
Mine eyes fail for thy word, saying, When wilt thou comfort me?
Here the writer's prayer has gone unanswered and the strain is building. His eyes ache from watching for God to keep His word. His question is not whether comfort will come, but when.
Earlier in the psalm he had asked God for comfort. No answer came.
The godly man in trouble had looked to the Lord for comfort (v. 76), but the answer is delayed and the pressure expands. He faints for deliverance; the eyes fail in looking for the fulfilment of the word... Nevertheless, the deepening trial only serves to bring out his confidence in God. His soul may faint, but hope in the Word of God remains: his eyes may fail, but faith still looks to God for comfort.
Enemies press him all through this part of the psalm. One writer reads that danger as the reason he has nowhere else to turn.
Conscious of being under attack, the writer seeks refuge with the Lord and His Word. His only hope is in the Lord, and so it is for you and me.
The word he waits on is full of comfort. But one writer points out that a promise still needs a living God to act on it — and that the wait has a purpose.
His need is at its worst, and his soul faints for a deliverance that God alone can give. God's word is what he waits on in hope. There is plenty of comfort in that word, but it still takes a living God to make it good. The word boldly pledges God to do it; yet the pledge sometimes seems long in being redeemed. So there is room for testing, and testing is not against faith after all. It assumes faith, and only in faith can it exist: faith has to do with what is not seen.
Commentators read the closing question in different tones. One hears something restless in it, and answers the restlessness with a call to stop reading God's timing off our circumstances.
Do we detect a note of impatience? "When will You comfort me?" Had he not been hoping in His word? (v. 81). Why doesn't the Lord act quickly? "Hope deferred makes the heart sick" (Prov. 13:12). Do not let yourself be discouraged by appearances... We sometimes want to limit the Lord to our time. Sometimes we cannot see the reason for such and such a thing. But we should leave everything in His hands. He is never too late. We must learn to persevere in faith and hope and the study of His Word, and take our eyes off our circumstances.
Others hear the cry of a man whose life is short and who cannot hold out much longer. In that reading, the suffering itself becomes his plea before God.
This blessed revelation of God Himself, of His will and favour, is the one thing in which He cannot lie, and it holds the heart up through everything. How precious it is to have a revelation of Himself that is as sure as He is!... But he was a poor, short-lived creature, and if he was to taste mercy it was time for God to act... So sorrow itself and great pressure, where there is integrity, become a plea with God.
One writer turns this exhaustion into a lesson. Being emptied is what prepares a person to receive.
It is necessary for us to get to the end of ourselves, to despair of our self-sufficiency. When we get to the end of our own resources, then we realise that our Father's full giving has only just begun. We feel empty like a wineskin left in the smoke. Our spiritual energy seems shrivelled up. When we realise our own nothingness, then we are ready for His fullness to be shown on our behalf.
The section does not end with the question of verse 82. It ends with a prayer that reaches past rescue to renewal of the man himself.
Aware of all this, the believer turns to God — not only for outward deliverance, but for new life within. Revived in soul, he will be able to walk in obedience to the Word.
- Looking. His failing eyes are fixed on a promise. He strains for God to keep His word while an earlier prayer still waits for its answer.
- Waiting. The gap between a pledge and its keeping is not the enemy of faith. It is faith's working room, because faith deals with what is not seen.
- Asking. The question "When will You comfort me?" is honest. Commentators differ over whether it carries impatience, but either way the sufferer is still speaking to God.
- Emptying. Dried out and worn down, he reaches the end of his own resources — which is where God's fullness begins to show.
- Reviving. The cry ends higher than it started: not just get me out, but make me alive, so that obedience to the Word can go on.
For I am become like a bottle in the smoke; I do not forget thy statutes.
Verses 81-88 of Psalm 119 belong together. In them the writer's prayer has gone unanswered so long that he feels dried up and useless — yet he still holds on to God's statutes. How does faith behave when the pressure has burnt all the freshness out of a person?
Older translations say "bottle" where the ESV says "wineskin". Both mean a leather bag for holding liquid. One writer draws out both halves of the picture — what the skin was for, and what the smoke did to it:
He had become like a wineskin in smoke. The wineskin was meant to hold the wine that makes the heart of man glad. But the smoke had darkened it and defeated that purpose, so he felt dried up and unable to work as he should. "Yet," he says, "I have not forgotten Your statutes."
The dryness is not a passing mood. It comes from long, grinding opposition, and one writer sees a familiar strategy behind it:
He is really exhausted. The strain and stress have been unbearable. Of course Satan's strategy is to wear us out! It was by the constant nagging of Delilah that Samson's soul was "vexed to death" (Judges 16:16). She wore him out.
Earlier in the psalm the writer had asked God for comfort. The problem here is that the comfort has not come. The waiting itself is the trial:
The godly man in trouble had looked to the Lord for comfort (v. 76), but the answer is slow to come and the pressure grows. He faints as he waits for rescue. His eyes fail as he looks for the word to be fulfilled. In soul he becomes dried and withered like a bottle in the smoke. Still, the deepening trial only brings out his confidence in God. His soul may faint, but his hope in the Word of God remains. His soul may be withered, but it does not forget God's statutes.
The word he holds is full of comfort, but that promise still needs a living God to make it good. The gap between the promise and the payment is where faith is tested:
He is in the deepest need. His soul faints for a rescue that can come from God alone. God's word is what he waits on in hope. There is plenty of comfort in it, yet it still needs a living God to make it good. The word pledges Him for this without fear; but the pledge sometimes seems slow to be paid. So there is room for the soul to be exercised, and this after all is not against faith. It assumes faith, and faith finds in it its only way of living: for faith has to do with what is not seen.
The word "yet" is the hinge of the verse. He will not let go of God's statutes, and his suffering itself becomes something he can bring to God:
Verses 81-88 go further. The pressure of the power of evil is greater, and the cry more earnest, but he trusts the word completely. God has revealed Himself, His will and His favour, and in this He cannot lie. This blessed revelation holds the heart up through everything. How precious it is to have a revelation of Himself as sure as Himself! He appeals on two grounds: the extreme of his distress — he is dried up like a bottle in the smoke — and the fact that he dare not forget God's statutes... So sorrow itself and great pressure, where there is integrity, become a plea with God.
Being emptied is not the end of the story. One writer turns the picture around:
It is necessary for us to get to the end of ourselves, to despair of our self-sufficiency. When we get to the end of our own resources, then we realise that our Father's full giving has only just begun. We may feel empty like a bottle in the smoke. Our spiritual energy may seem shrivelled up like a wineskin. When we realise our own nothingness in this way, then we are ready for Him to show His fullness on our behalf.
Commentators also read this section as the words of the godly in Israel under persecution. Their strength to hold on is not their own:
They count on His life-giving power, which gives them the strength to keep His testimony.
- Smoke — a wineskin should hold wine that gladdens the heart. In smoke it dries out and cannot do its work. That is how the writer feels about himself.
- Strain — the dryness comes from long opposition. Wearing a person down over time is a real tactic, as Delilah showed with Samson.
- Slowness — the trial here is the delay. He asked God for comfort, and the answer is slow to come.
- Sureness — the word he waits on is as sure as the God who gave it. The waiting exercises faith; it does not work against it.
- Statutes — he holds on to God's word, not to his own strength. His distress becomes a plea, and his emptiness makes room for God's fullness.
How many shall be the days of thy servant? when wilt thou execute judgment on them that persecute me?
Psalm 119's eleventh section (verses 81–88) is the prayer of a believer whose faith holds while rescue does not come. Verse 84 sets a short life against a long wait for judgment.
The stanza belongs to a stretch of the psalm where the pressure keeps rising and heaven stays quiet. One writer sums up the whole section as the experience of a believer left waiting.
The exercises of a saint whose prayer remains for a while unanswered.
The same writer traces how the delay works on the man, and how verse 84 arrives as the natural end of that pressure:
The godly man in trouble had looked to the Lord for comfort (v. 76), but the answer is delayed and the pressure grows. He faints for deliverance. His eyes fail as he looks for the word to be fulfilled. He becomes dried and withered in soul, like a wineskin in the smoke. Yet the deepening trial only brings out his confidence in God. His soul may faint, but hope in the Word of God remains; his eyes may fail, but faith still looks to God for comfort. His soul may be withered, but it does not forget God's statutes. Life is brief, the days are slipping away; when will God end the trial?
The first half of the verse measures the trouble against a lifespan. One commentator marks where that measuring hits a limit:
In verse 84 he raises the fact that his days are so short. Yet God does not step in to defend him against those who keep persecuting him. But if we look at things from the viewpoint of our limited days, we fall short of a proper viewpoint. For one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. Yet we all find it very hard to accept God's viewpoint.
The second half asks God to act as judge. One writer ties that appeal to promises God made to Israel, and to commands the psalmist can plead as promises:
But he feels how brief his days are. So he pleads for the judgment Israel needs before their earthly promises can be fulfilled. When will that time come? … Meanwhile the pits dug by the proud open in front of them, unchecked by Jewish law. The psalmist thinks of those commandments. By upholding righteousness, they must imply a God who will be faithful to the righteous. So he can plead them as if they were promises — "faithful commandments." And he too has tried to be faithful to them. That is why he seeks his shelter from those who persecute him wrongfully.
He can ask because of the path he is walking:
In the eleventh section the cry becomes more urgent. He is under the pressure of trial, and his soul faints for deliverance. He looks to Jehovah to carry out judgment, because he is walking in Jehovah's precepts. And the proud persecute him wrongfully — they pay no attention to Jehovah or to His law.
Commentators do not treat God's slowness as neglect. Writing on a psalm with the same question, one puts two reasons behind the silence:
Though the time seems endless, it is God's wisdom that delays the answer. Part of the reason is that He is patient toward the ungodly. But He also knows how much His servants need a long trial of heart, so that faith may be both tested and strengthened.
Asking God to judge people is not how Christians are told to pray, and writers here mark the difference plainly. Comparing this kind of cry with the dying words of Stephen, who asked God not to hold his killers' sin against them, one commentator distinguishes two eras:
What would not be suitable on our lips is quite suitable on theirs, for when God is about to take up His "strange work" of judgment, it is right to ask Him to do it quickly. He is going to make it a short work in the earth — only what is short to Him may seem long to the creature.
The stanza does not end at verse 84. By verse 88 the prayer has changed shape:
The saint turns to God. He asks not only for outward deliverance, but for inward quickening, so that, revived in soul, he may walk in obedience to the Word.
- Waiting. The verse sits in a section where the answer is delayed and the pressure grows.
- Days. He weighs his short life against God's silence. That is the very place where our view of time falls short of God's.
- Ground. He can plead for judgment because he walks in God's precepts. The proud persecute him wrongfully and pay no attention to God's law.
- Wisdom. The wait is not neglect. God is patient toward the ungodly, and He uses the delay to test and strengthen faith.
- Era. Writers place this cry for judgment in an age of judgment, not in the present day of grace. What is short to God can feel long to us.
The proud have digged pits for me, which is not according to thy law.
The psalmist has just described himself as weak and worn down, still waiting for God to act. Now he names his trouble: proud men have dug hidden traps for him, and their work stands outside God's law — an attack on him that is also an attack on God.
This verse sits in a group of eight verses, 81 to 88, that move from exhaustion to appeal:
In deep distress and searching of soul, the afflicted one looks for the Lord's salvation and the comfort of His word. He is weak, like a leather bottle in the smoke, and it seems as if his days are few. This is because of the proud persecutors. They set themselves against the will of the Lord and seek the downfall of the righteous. In these hard conditions the righteous look to Jehovah for help when they are pressed to the limit. They count on His life-giving power, which gives the strength to keep His testimony.
The men who dug the pits are the insolent, or the proud. Their pride is a refusal to be under God, and it turns into mockery of anyone who is:
But this delight in the word gives a true estimate of man in the world: the "proud" man acts from his own will and sets himself up. He may seem to succeed and scoff at God. He is under a curse, he strays from the one true way of man — God's way. Lifting up our own will must bring a curse. In doing that we are away from God and in rebellion against Him, as all acting of human will is. Godliness does more than make a man a stranger here, which is a settled thing for the heart. It also brings cruel mocking, because proud man will not be subject to God.
Across the psalm the same man lists many other attacks, and the dug pit is one of them:
He is surrounded by transgressors that grieve his spirit (v. 158), and enemies that oppress him (v. 134). Princes speak against him (v. 23), and persecute him without a cause (v. 161). The proud hold him in derision (v. 51), forge lies against him (v. 69), and dig pits for his overthrow (v. 85). The wicked lay snares for his feet (v. 110), and lie in wait for his destruction (v. 95). He is held in reproach and contempt (v. 22); in the eyes of the world he is little and despised (v. 141).
The second half of the verse says these men "do not live according to your law." That widens the offence:
(vv. 85-87) In confidence of heart, the afflicted soul spreads out the trial before God. The proud had dug pits to trap him; they persecuted him wrongfully; they almost destroyed him from the land. Moreover, not only do the wicked oppose the people of God but they oppose God Himself. Their actions are not according to God's law; they are wrongful in God's sight; they forsake God's precepts. God is not unmindful of the sorrows of the saints, and He cannot ignore the evil ways of the wicked.
The trouble comes from human pride, and it breaks God's own word. So the sufferer can bring it back to God as a reason to act:
The sorrow he was suffering was man's pride at work, and it was not according to the word which God made good and owned. Yet that word was, all of it, faithful, and the persecution wrongful. It had gone very far. He was almost destroyed in the land, the very place of promise and God's power. Yet he did not forsake God's precepts… So sorrow itself and great pressure, where there is integrity, become a plea with God.
The pits stay open, and the law does not stop the men who dug them. So the psalmist leans on God's commands:
Meanwhile the pits of the proud gape open before them, and Israel's law does not hold the proud back. The psalmist thinks of those commandments. Because they uphold righteousness, they imply a God who will be faithful to the righteous. So he can plead them as if they were promises — "faithful commandments." He too has tried to be faithful to them. He therefore seeks his shelter in the sanctuary from those who persecute him unjustly.
- Pit — the danger hides underfoot — traps dug for his downfall, along with lies, snares, scorn and ambush.
- Pride — the diggers act from their own will and set themselves up. They will not be under God, so they mock those who are.
- Lawlessness — their work is outside God's law. So the offence is not only against a man but against God, and He does not ignore it.
- Plea — pressure borne with integrity becomes an argument he can bring to God, not a reason to quit.
- Preservation — he pleads God's faithful commandments as if they were promises. Then he looks for the life-giving power that keeps him holding God's testimony.
All thy commandments are faithfulness. They persecute me wrongfully help thou me.
Psalm 119:86 sets two facts side by side: God's commandments are dependable, and the people hunting the writer ignore them. Out of that clash comes a two-word prayer for help. Why is a settled truth about God's word the ground for asking rescue?
The ESV calls these commandments "sure." Older translations read "faithful." A dictionary of Bible terms traces the word behind both:
In both the Old Testament and the New Testament this word comes from the same root as 'faith.' It means being true to oneself and to one's own nature. It means keeping any promise given and any trust committed. In various connections it is often applied to God Himself... The commandments and testimonies of God are called faithful (Ps. 119:86, 138).
So the reliability of the words rests on the character of the One who speaks them:
You can depend on God's word. We have the sayings of a God who cannot lie; He who made the promises in them performs them faithfully; they are all "yes and amen" in Christ.
Why mention commandments at all when asking for help? One commentator answers: a command that upholds what is right implies a God who stands by the person doing right.
Meanwhile the pits of the proud lie open in front of them, unchecked by Jewish law. The psalmist thinks of those commandments which uphold righteousness. They must imply a God who will be faithful to the righteous. So he can plead them as if they were promises — "faithful commandments." And he too has striven to be faithful to them. So he seeks his shelter in God's sanctuary from those who persecute him wrongfully. Almost destroyed on earth, he has not abandoned God's precepts.
The ESV says they persecute him "with falsehood"; older translations say "wrongfully." Either way, the wrong is not only against the man:
In confidence of heart, the afflicted soul spreads out the trial before God. The proud had dug pits to trap him; they persecuted him wrongfully; they almost destroyed him from the land. Moreover, the wicked not only oppose the people of God, they oppose God Himself. Their actions are not according to God's law; they are wrongful in God's sight; they forsake God's precepts. God is not unmindful of the sorrows of the saints, and He cannot ignore the evil ways of the wicked.
The prayer shrinks to two words. Is such a bare cry wasted?
He continues to speak of the way he is treated by the proud, who have dug pits for him, in complete ignorance of God's law. All God's commandments are faithful, but the ungodly ignore this completely and persecute the godly wrongfully. So he appeals to his one source of hope, "Help me!" Is this in vain? Certainly not. Though he feels the enemy has almost ended his existence on earth, he is confident that God can revive him.
This verse falls in the eleventh section of the psalm. One writer says the rescue in view is deliverance on earth, with God acting against the enemy:
Here the prayer is urgent, as the wrongdoing grows fast and weakness shows itself in the severest trial. This is not the hope of the Christian, who like Christ is to go on high. It is deliverance, as Israel expects and will have, when God carries out judgment openly on the enemy.
Another writer describes the same section as a cry that grows louder under trouble:
In the eleventh the cry becomes more urgent. He is under the pressure of trial, and his soul faints for deliverance. He looks for Jehovah to carry out judgment, because he is walking in Jehovah's precepts. And the proud persecute him wrongfully — they pay no attention to Jehovah or to His law.
- Sure — the word older versions render "faithful" shares its root with "faith": being true to one's nature, to a promise given, to a trust committed. It describes God Himself before His commandments.
- Pleadable — a command that upholds righteousness implies a God who backs the righteous. So the sufferer prays that command back to Him like a promise.
- Wrongful — the attack is not just unfair to him. It is against God, whose law the proud ignore, and He cannot overlook it.
- Help me — as the pits open and strength fails, the prayer shrinks to two words and one resource. It is not in vain.
- Deliverance — the help expected is God acting openly against the enemy. Commentators note this is Israel's hope of rescue on earth, not the Christian's hope of going on high.
They had almost consumed me upon the earth; but as for me, I forsook not thy precepts.
In Psalm 119:87 the writer's enemies have pushed him to the edge of destruction. He does not strike back. He holds on to God's precepts. So the verse raises two questions. How far does God let trouble go against His people? And what keeps a believer steady while help is slow?
This part of the psalm is a record of waiting. One commentator sums it up in a line:
The exercises of a saint whose prayer remains for a while unanswered.
He brings the whole trial to God and holds nothing back. And his complaint is not only that the enemies hurt him — they set themselves against God too:
With confidence of heart, the afflicted soul spreads out the trial before God. The proud had dug pits to trap him; they persecuted him wrongfully; they almost consumed him from the land. What is more, the wicked not only oppose the people of God, they oppose God Himself. Their actions are not according to God's law; they are wrong in God's sight; they forsake God's precepts. God is not unmindful of the sorrows of the saints, and He cannot ignore the evil ways of the wicked.
Believers are not spared such suffering. One writer sets the verse beside Paul's list of hardships:
The psalmist says: "They have almost made an end of me on earth…" Yes, even believers are not spared tribulations or sufferings. When you or I are passing through a very difficult time, Satan may suggest that the Lord has forgotten us. He may tell us that God does not love us any more. Paul helps us here. He writes to the believers at Rome, who were under persecution too. "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us" (Romans 8:35, 37). Satan may use circumstances to sow doubts in our hearts. But why should we doubt? Is not God for us? Did not God give up His Son for us? Did not Christ die for us? … We have nothing to fear. We are absolutely secure.
Where this happened matters. It was in the land God had promised him:
It had gone very far. He was almost consumed in the land, the very place of promise and God's power; but he did not forsake God's precepts. He looks for mercy too, as something that gives him life. It is not only comfort from outside, but the restoration of the soul itself. … So sorrow itself and great pressure, where there is integrity, become a plea with God.
One writer looks across the whole psalm. He lists what God did not prevent, and how the psalmist answered:
Here God hadn't protected him from the bands of the wicked (v. 61). God hadn't stopped the proud from lying about him (v. 69). God hadn't stopped them from treating him unjustly and wrongly (v. 78). His enemies had almost consumed him (v. 87). … Sometimes God allows a situation or a path that we don't like, one we would not choose ourselves. He may allow it to test our faith, or to discipline us, or to draw us closer to Him. But whatever the reason, God allows it. The psalmist responded by remembering God's words. He focuses on what God has written. He meditates on it, keeps it with his whole heart and delights in it.
He holds on, and he also asks God for new life. He has a reason for asking:
He feels the enemy has almost ended his life on earth. Yet he is confident that God can revive him, for he appeals to God's lovingkindness (v. 88). And he does not ask this only for his own comfort. He asks it so that he may keep the testimony of God's mouth.
- Pressure. This is a believer whose prayer has gone unanswered for a while.
- Almost. The enemy came close to finishing him. But "almost" is where it stopped, and no such pressure can separate us from the love of Christ.
- Grip. Under that pressure he did not let go of God's precepts; the wicked are the ones who forsake them.
- Plea. Sorrow and pressure, where there is integrity, become a plea to bring to God, not a reason to doubt Him.
- Life. He asks God for more than rescue from outside trouble. He asks for new life inside, so that he may go on keeping God's word.
Quicken me according to thy loving-kindness, and I will keep the testimony of thy mouth.
This verse closes a section of Psalm 119 where the trouble has not lifted: the writer asks first not for rescue but for life, on the ground of God's steadfast love. Two questions run through it: why does a man who already keeps God's word ask God for life, and what does love have to do with obedience?
He had already asked God for comfort, and no answer had come. One commentator traces how the trial deepens without breaking his confidence:
The godly man in trouble had looked to the Lord for comfort, but the answer is delayed and the pressure grows. He is faint for rescue; his eyes fail as he looks for the word to be fulfilled. He becomes dried and withered in soul like a bottle in the smoke. Still, the deepening trial only brings out his confidence in God. His soul may faint, but hope in the Word of God remains: his eyes may fail, but faith still looks to God for comfort.
The prayer does not hide the damage done. It hands the damage to God as a reason for Him to act:
There are two grounds of appeal here — the depth of his distress: he is dried up like a bottle in the smoke; but he dare not forget God's statutes... He was almost consumed in the land, the very place of promise and God's power; but he did not abandon God's precepts. He looks for mercy too as something that gives him life. It is not only comfort from outside, but the restoring of the soul itself, and so the testimony of God's mouth is kept firmly, with good courage and confidence. So sorrow itself and great pressure, where there is integrity, become a plea with God.
Older translations read "quicken me" instead of "give me life." One dictionary sets out what that word means and how often this psalm asks for it:
In the Old Testament this word carries the force of "to revive, or give new life" in a moral sense: so we read "quicken me again." In Psalm 119 the psalmist asked nine times to be quickened — according to God's word, or His righteousness, or His judgements.
That raises a problem. Verse 50 says God's word has already given him life, yet he keeps asking. One writer answers by separating this prayer from what the New Testament calls being made alive:
The Psalmist says that God's Word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he asks to be quickened. He clearly uses the word more in the sense of being revived, of being restored to stronger life... Only when we come to the New Testament is the time of testing over, and man openly declared dead in trespasses and sins. So only in the New Testament does the full truth of quickening appear.
The measure here is God's own kindness, not the man's record. Where the same plea returns later in the psalm, one writer shows why love and obedience belong together:
When Jehovah's tender mercies are in mind, quickening is asked for according to God's judgments. The goodness of God, when it is felt, always leads to a desire for His will. When we delight in the purity and blessedness of His word, we look to His loving-kindness as that in which He should quicken us. His word is so precious that we look to grace to form us freely into it.
The last clause gives the purpose of the whole prayer. Even a man who has stayed faithful under attack still needs something he cannot give himself:
Almost destroyed on earth, he has not abandoned God's precepts; yet for that very thing he knows he needs quickening, so that he may keep the testimonies of His mouth.
- Pressure. The man praying is dried up like a bottle in the smoke. His eyes fail as he waits for God to make His word good, yet his hope in that word holds.
- Plea. He does not argue from his record. His extremity, joined with his integrity, is itself laid before God as a reason to act.
- Gift. He asks for revival — for God to restore him to stronger life. The psalm repeats this plea nine times.
- Ground. The measure is God's loving-kindness. Goodness felt from God awakens a desire for His will, and grace forms the heart into the word it already loves.
- Result. Life comes first and obedience follows. He needs quickening so that he can keep the testimonies of God's mouth, not the other way round.
LAMED. For ever, O Jehovah, thy word is settled in the heavens.
The psalmist is in the middle of trouble, and he looks away from it to something fixed. His claim is about place as much as time: God's word stands where nothing on earth can reach it.
The word is fixed "in the heavens" — that is, out of man's reach. Several of the writers quoted here use an older translation, which reads "settled in the heavens."
The godly man looks beyond his trials. He sees that God's Word is "settled in the heavens." It is beyond the reach of man, so nothing that happens on earth affects it.
Heaven is where the word rests; earth is where it is carried out. So a promise in your hand is as sure as the God who does not change.
Now the soul sees another side of the word: the word before God in heaven itself. There it is settled for ever. There, where He is, it stays what it is — God's settled and declared purpose. But God has acted out of heaven, though His purpose is settled in it. He is faithful. He holds to what He is and to what He has said, through all the changing generations of men. So when we have His word, we can count on it as surely as on what is in heaven. It does not change, any more than God Himself.
The sky illustrates the verse. Stars, sun, moon and earth all hold the course God set for them.
In the heavens above, His word stands firm for ever. The stars that roll in their circuits show it, no doubt, and so do the sun and the moon that keep their ordered path. The earth, too, is established... fixed and lasting. There they all remain, servants of God, each in its own sphere. Everything holds steady, though it all looks open to change. Everywhere it shows the mark of a governing hand.
Put the record of God's people beside the record of God's word. Mackintosh finds the picture in the ark of the covenant, the chest that kept God's word safe while the people themselves failed.
Man is the same always and everywhere. His history is a blotted one, from beginning to end. But what a relief and comfort it is to know and remember that God is ever the same. His word abides. It is "settled for ever in heaven." It was hidden in the side of the ark of the covenant and kept there intact, in spite of all the grievous sin and folly of the people. This gives sweet rest to the heart, at all times, in the face of human failure.
What God fixes in heaven, no one can vote down on earth. Attacks on the Bible are storms around a rock, not cracks in it.
He will stand behind every word He has put on record, for He has magnified His word above all His name. The Scriptures are an unshakable rock. The winds may blow their hardest. Threatening voices may join the fury of the storm. We can always say with confidence, "Forever, O LORD, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens."
Jesus lived by this verse. He treated Scripture as heaven's book, not man's.
He was from heaven and of heaven, yet He found nothing in Scripture that did not reveal God. For Him, God had inspired all Scripture; its source was heavenly, not earthly... His complete submission to the written Word, and His oneness with it, marked Him as heavenly. He lived by the heavenly Book. For Him it was, "Forever, O LORD, your word is firmly fixed in the heavens." He, the living Word, lived as Man by the written Word.
A word that cannot be moved steadies the person who obeys it, and leaves the enemy nothing to work with.
The spirit of obedience is the great moral safeguard against every scheme and every trap of the enemy. The enemy may shift his ground. He may change his tactics. He may use different agents. 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.
- Settled — the word is fixed in heaven, out of man's reach, so nothing happening on earth can touch it.
- Sure — it is as unchanging as God Himself, so you can count on it as you count on heaven.
- Seen — stars, sun, moon and earth all keep their course. They are the visible witness that His word holds.
- Safe — human failure never dented it. It stayed intact in the ark while the people sinned and failed.
- Steadying — Christ Himself lived by this heavenly Book. Anyone ruled by it is beyond the enemy's reach too.
Thy faithfulness is from generation to generation thou hast established the earth, and it standeth.
The psalmist has just looked up and seen God's word fixed in heaven, out of reach of anything happening below. Verse 90 brings that certainty down to earth: God keeps faith with every generation, and the ground under our feet proves it.
God's purpose stays fixed where He is. But He also acts out of heaven, and that action reaches the generations of men.
There, where He is, it remains in its own character of God's settled and expressed purpose. But God has acted out of heaven, though His purpose is settled in it. His faithfulness means He stands by what He is and has said. It continues through the changing generations of men. So when we have His word, we can count on it as sure as what is in heaven; it does not change, any more than God Himself. He established the earth, and it lasts.
The steadiness of the earth points somewhere. One writer links it to the Person and the words of the Lord Jesus.
The New Testament tells us that the blessed Person of the Lord Jesus Christ is "the same yesterday and today and forever" (Heb. 13:8). The Lord Jesus said, "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away" (Matt. 24:35). This is the solid rock we stand on, the right foundation for our spiritual maturity. Nothing can shake either the Person of the Lord or His precious word. "You have founded the earth and it stands still" is the literal rendering from the Hebrew. What God does lasts! Someone has said, "Every time you set your foot on the ground, remember the stability of God's promises."
Why should anyone trust that God keeps His word? Look at everything around us that keeps running.
God's word is settled in the heavens. On earth, too, God is faithful in fulfilling His word throughout all generations. What is more, creation is the abiding witness of God's faithfulness to His word. All created things continue according to the fixed laws by which they were set in motion. They are His servants doing His bidding. So the purpose of God is settled in the heavens. His faithfulness to carry out that purpose continues on earth. And all created things in heaven and earth bear continual witness to this faithfulness of God.
This is not comfort in the abstract. It is comfort for people whose enemies want them destroyed.
What comfort and rest of heart for the saints to know that the word of the Lord is unmovable and heavenly, and that He is always faithful! Everything down here is under His control and serves His will. This stable, heavenly word is the preserving power of the righteous where the wicked seek their destruction. It is the word of Him to whom they belong, the One who is their Saviour.
The earth keeps the place God gave it. That raises a question about us.
The earth, heaven, hail, rain, wind, snow and all the elements are His servants. How much more should you and I be His servants, as redeemed and intelligent creatures! These elements work in the place God appointed for them, and in this way they are an example to us all.
One writer takes this further still. He reads the earth's lasting as reaching into eternity itself.
"You have established the earth, and it stands fast" (Ps. 119:90); "the earth remains forever" (Eccl. 1:4). These divine statements are now fulfilled. Many Christians have a very vague idea of the eternal state of the earth and the home of the redeemed. They think of it as a spiritual state with no location. But it is not so. The earth and the heaven remain as definite places throughout all eternity.
- Settled — God fixed His word in heaven. Nothing on earth can touch it. His purpose does not change, because He does not change.
- Faithful — God carries that purpose out down here. He stands by His word through every changing generation.
- Established — the ground you stand on is the evidence. What God does lasts, so every step is a reminder of the stability of His promises.
- Serving — creation keeps the course God gave it. That is the witness to His faithfulness and the pattern for ours.
- Steadying — a man under threat is speaking here. The unmovable word preserves the righteous when the wicked seek their ruin.
By thine ordinances they stand this day; for all things are thy servants.
Here the psalmist looks away from his own trouble to what cannot be shaken. He points to God's word in heaven, the earth under his feet, and the daily running of creation. Two questions follow. Who are the "they" that still stand? And what does it mean for us that everything else obeys?
The two verses before this one speak of God's word in heaven and of His faithfulness on earth. One writer sets those beside creation and puts all three in order.
Not only is God's word settled in the heavens, but on earth God is faithful in fulfilling His word throughout all generations. Moreover, creation is the abiding witness of God's faithfulness to His word. All created things continue according to the fixed laws by which they were set in motion. They are His servants doing His bidding. So the purpose of God is settled in the heavens; the faithfulness of God to carry out that purpose continues on earth; and all created things in heaven and earth bear continual witness to this faithfulness of God.
The verse never names its subject, and translations differ over it. One writer rejects a well-known modern rendering. He reads the subject back from the two verses before, then turns the answer into a question for the reader.
The N.I.V. strangely says, "Your laws endure to this day…" But that is surely not the meaning. The "they" in our verse are no doubt the "word" in verse 89, and "the earth" in verse 90!! It is these — word, heaven and earth — which are all His servants! If the Lord maintains and sustains these things, is He not able to sustain us?
Fixed laws can look like a machine left running on its own. One writer asks why created things keep to their laws at all. His answer also shows where the soul finds strength when circumstances turn against it.
He established the earth, and it abides. All continues as God orders it; for — and it is another important truth — everything that exists is the servant of God. Even if He has given them final laws, why do they keep to them? Because they depend on Him. They are His servants. All are His servants; but then the soul has its strength in this word… When circumstances were all against him, it was hard to hold firm, unless the moral side of the law had its power. God seemed to be outside the circumstances, but the inward delight in the law of God kept it fast.
Another writer looks up for his picture of a word that stands firm. Behind the stars, sun and moon he sees one hand at work.
In the heavens above, His word stands firm for ever. No doubt the stars that roll in their circuits, and the sun and the moon that keep their ordered path, illustrate this. The earth, too, is established… fixed and lasting. There they all remain: servants of God, each in its own sphere. It is a permanent state of things, despite all the apparent openness to change. Everywhere it shows the impress of a governing hand.
If all things serve God, one creature stands out. A writer sets the ordered round of nature against the will of man.
The planets revolve around their centres. The seasons follow each other in due course. The rain and dew make the soil fruitful. The earth yields its rich variety of fruits… But man himself is a rebel! He is the only being among them all with the capacity for intelligent obedience. It was for the glory, by the power, and according to the will of God, that all began to be. But while all else continue to exist on these terms, man has chosen another end than his Maker's glory.
The same source turns the verse into a personal question. It quotes an older wording, "according to Your ordinances," where the ESV has "By your appointment." The list of God's servants ends with us.
But also, the earth, heaven, hail, rain, wind, snow and all the elements are His servants. If they are, how much more should you and I be His servants, as redeemed and intelligent creatures! These elements work in their appointed place, "according to Your ordinances…" In this way they are an example to us all… Are we conscious of this and ready to fulfil our functions?
- Settled — God fixed His purpose in heaven. His faithfulness carries it out on earth. Creation is the daily witness to both.
- Sustained — the "they" that still stand are most likely God's word, heaven and earth. The One who holds them up can hold you up.
- Dependent — fixed laws are not self-running. Things keep to their laws because they depend on Him; they are servants, not machines.
- Rebel — everything else keeps its appointed place. Man alone can obey with intelligence, and he chose an end other than his Maker's glory.
- Enlisted — wind and snow serve Him in their place. The redeemed have all the more reason to fill theirs.
Unless thy law had been my delight, I should then have perished in mine affliction.
The psalmist looks back on suffering that nearly finished him, and names what kept him alive: delight in God's law. The hard question behind the verse is what God's word is worth when everything you can see has turned against you.
God's word does not shift, and neither does God. One writer shows what that steadiness does for a heart under pressure:
When we have His word, we can count on it as sure as what is in heaven; it does not change, any more than God Himself does... Here is a moral, willing obedience in a renewed heart. When circumstances were all against him, it was hard to hold firm unless the moral side of the law had its power. God seemed to be outside the circumstances, but the inward delight in the law of God held the heart fast.
DISCUSS: depth score is low — no quote on the page explains the verse's key words (delight, affliction, perished). Consider retrieving one quote that defines these terms and replacing the weakest of the six current quotes.
This trial is not mild. It is the kind that makes God look absent:
God allows circumstances so overwhelming that, to the eye, they would appear to be beyond His control. Will the tried soul keep its faith in God? It is indeed sustained, because deep within he delights in God's Word, even when he can no longer see God's hand in what is happening around him. With this inward delight in God's Word the soul is revived.
The verse does not call the law his duty or his study material. It calls it his delight. Two other ways of reading fall short of that:
Sometimes, even after conversion, we only read the Scriptures out of a sense of duty. This will always be so, more or less, where we do not enjoy the liberty of grace. Others will read their Bibles eagerly, but mainly to learn their contents, to gain knowledge. Neither way of reading can produce the meditation our psalm describes.
The word "unless" points to a real outcome the psalmist escaped. The same warning reaches anyone who neglects the Bible:
The psalmist realizes too that unless God's law had been his delight, he would have perished in the affliction the Lord allowed to try him. How true for us too: if we neglect the Word of God, the results here and now can be disastrous. But when someone has purposed to live by the truth of God's Word, he will not forget those valuable precepts (v. 93). It is by these that one really lives, for God is the life-giver.
Pressure does not create a person's relationship with Scripture; it exposes it. One writer sets the psalmist beside the seed that fell among thorns:
How different the psalmist's experience is from the case the Lord Jesus described in the parable of the sower. He spoke of the seed that fell among thorns — those who hear, "but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature" (Luke 8:14). Circumstances may show up how shallow we are, or show that we are rooted and grounded in Him and His Word. Let us then daily delight in the reading and study of His Word.
The psalmist does not just survive. Something new grows out of the whole ordeal:
If it had not been for Jehovah's law, which sustained his heart, he would have perished under the pressure of affliction. In truth, how precious to have the word in such a world! ... Another and more confident thought grows up out of all this exercise — "I am yours."
- Settled. His word never changes, any more than God Himself changes. You can lean on it when nothing on earth holds.
- Tested. The trouble was heavy enough to hide God's hand from sight. That is when inward delight in His word proves itself.
- Delighted. Reading from duty or for facts will not carry anyone through. The psalm assumes a heart that enjoys the word.
- Sustained. Without that delight he would have perished. With it he was revived, and he will not forget the precepts he lives by.
- Owned. Out of the whole exercise comes a more confident word still — "I am yours."
I will never forget thy precepts; for by them thou hast quickened me.
The psalmist has come through affliction, and here he makes a vow. He ties together two things we often keep apart: remembering God's commands, and receiving life from them.
Confidence in God's word is one thing. Trouble tests it, and this verse records what survives the test.
The psalmist has expressed his confidence in God's Word. But there comes a time when his faith is tested. God allows troubles so overwhelming that, to human sight, they would seem beyond His control. Will the tested soul keep its faith in God then? It is indeed held up, because deep inside he delights in God's Word, even when he can no longer see God's hand in his outward circumstances. With this inward delight in God's Word the soul is revived.
God's law also works inside a person, and it works there in a different way. It meets the conscience and the heart, and the result is life.
In the soul God's law also proves its power to sustain. It works there in a very different way, yet it still shows the divine virtue in it. As law it asserts God's sovereignty, and the conscience answers with homage, the heart with delight. So, despite the disorder he feels, God is there; and the soul is cheered and given strength. What has done this leaves its own unique effect, impossible to forget. One lives by it to God.
That explains the vow. The precepts cannot be forgotten, because of what they have already done in him.
Older translations end the verse "you have quickened me." Commentators read that word in two ways. One line of teaching sees the word of God giving life outright to those who have none.
God's word doesn't just give information, it gives life. God's word is powerful and effective, and is life-giving. How many there have been who have never heard a preacher but have picked up God's word, or just part of God's word, read it and found life. God's word is life-giving. It can totally change the spiritually dead; it makes them alive.
Others read it differently. The same psalm keeps asking for a quickening the psalmist has already received.
The Psalmist says that God's Word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he desires to be quickened. Clearly the word here carries more the sense of being revived, of being restored to fuller life. In Old Testament times man was still on trial. God had given the law to test him, and life on earth was still held out as the outcome of perfect obedience to it. Only in the New Testament is that trial over, and man is declared dead in trespasses and sins. So only in the New Testament does the full truth of quickening appear.
The verse does not stop at a private benefit. What the word does in sorrow leads the heart up to God Himself.
The word has power to sustain the heart in sorrow, and power to quicken and restore the new man inside. That power gives purpose of heart, as we become aware how divinely precious the word is. And this leads up to God in the awareness that we are His. I do not say it creates the thought, but it leads the heart to be conscious of it; and so to look to Him who is faithful to save and deliver.
A revived heart does not stay content with its own revival.
The means God uses to revive us is usually His Word: "I will never forget your precepts, for by them you have given me life" (Ps. 119:93). This very personal encouragement in fellowship with God stirs up a further desire in our hearts: that the whole people of God may be revived. So we pray, always aware of our own weakness and failure, "O LORD, revive Your work" (Hab. 3:2).
- Tested — the trouble is real, and God's hand drops out of sight. The heart holds His word inside when the outward evidence is gone.
- Given — the word does not only inform, it acts: conscience gives homage, the heart gives delight, and "one lives by it to God."
- Disputed — commentators differ on "quickened" here. Some read it as life given to the spiritually dead. Others read it as revival, a restoring to fuller life.
- Owned — this reviving power gives purpose of heart, and leads the soul up to God in the awareness that we are His.
- Spreading — the word that revives one believer turns into a prayer for God's whole work.
I am thine, save me; for I have sought thy precepts.
Psalm 119:94 is a short prayer from a man in danger. He asks God to rescue him, and the only reason he gives is that he belongs to God.
The prayer does not offer God a deal. It starts from something the man already knows is true.
He does not say, "Save me and I shall be Yours," but he asserts that he belongs to the Lord and needs saving still! The Hebrew is emphatic here: "I AM Yours!"
How does a person come to that certainty? One writer points to what God's word does in a heart under sorrow.
The word has power to sustain the heart in sorrow. It has power to give new life and restore the new man inside. This gives the heart purpose, because it knows how precious the word is as something divine. And this leads the heart up to God, aware that we are His. I do not say it creates that thought, but it leads the heart to be conscious of it. So the heart looks to Him who is faithful to save and deliver.
Another writer traces the same movement through earlier verses of the psalm:
Given new life and revived, the godly man can say, "I am yours." He had prayed for comfort (v. 76) and waited for comfort (v. 82). Now he receives that comfort, as he learns the settled purpose of God.
The second half of the verse is not decoration. It tells us something about the man who prays it.
This introduces the second part. The psalmist turns to the God made known in this way, and he declares both his devotion and his need. His prayer is not just a cry forced out of him by outward distress. "I have sought," he says, "Your precepts." And he says it even though the wicked had wanted and plotted his destruction — plainly because he held to those precepts.
Darby adds that this honesty is not optional:
"I have sought your precepts"; and this must be so. Lacking it weakens all confidence, though God may show mercy.
Why does someone who already belongs to God still ask to be saved? Because "salvation" covers more than one thing.
Of course the Old Testament believer knew nothing of what God has since revealed to New Testament believers about the redemption of our bodies. They knew about the salvation of the soul and spirit, but not about glorified bodies! Paul describes this "final" salvation in Romans chapter 8: we "groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies." Peter calls it the "salvation ready to be revealed in the last time." So "salvation" is a word with a large meaning. There is also salvation out of our circumstances. That is what Paul means in Philippians 2:12: "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling." And Peter contrasts rescue in our circumstances with the salvation of the soul when he says, "obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls."
If the plea is ownership, ownership works both ways.
May we ever take to heart the truth, "I am Yours." If this is so, then God has exclusive rights over every aspect of our lives. He will also save us from every attack of the enemy and every temptation that tests us. He does it as far as we take in this wonderful fact, that we belong to Him.
He prays this while the enemies are still there, and rescue has not yet come.
You see again and again that the soul is in the presence of enemies who oppress it... "The wicked lie in wait to destroy me." But the soul waits in peace, occupied with God's testimonies. And this does give peace. It lets the soul leave everything to God.
- Cause. The word revived him in his trial. That new life inside is what leads the heart up to know that we are His.
- Claim. He does not bargain, "Save me and I shall be Yours." He starts from an emphatic "I AM Yours," and asks for rescue on that ground alone.
- Character. "I have sought your precepts" shows this is no cry squeezed out by distress. Without that honesty, confidence in prayer grows weak.
- Cost. Belonging works both ways. If we are His, He has exclusive rights over every part of our lives. And He saves us as far as we grasp that we belong to Him.
- Calm. Salvation is a wide word. It reaches from the soul to our circumstances, and at last to the body. The enemies still wait to destroy him, but his soul waits in peace, occupied with God's testimonies.
The wicked have awaited me to destroy me; [but] I attend unto thy testimonies.
This verse puts two things side by side: enemies waiting in ambush, and a mind turned to God's testimonies. So what does a believer under threat do with his attention?
The enemy waits, and the waiting is planned. One writer traces that strategy back to Satan:
Satan has a well-developed strategy which he has acquired over thousands of years. He is an active adversary and tempter of the saints. He and his servants the demons often have to withdraw from their victim for a time. But they will renew the attack at a more strategic moment: "lie in wait to destroy me." Let us not be deceived! If we get some relief from his attack for the moment, this is only a temporary lull in the battle, meant to make us relax.
The wicked do not target him at random. He has sought God's precepts, and that loyalty is what drew their hostility:
This is not just a cry forced out of him by outward trouble. "I have sought," he says, "your precepts." And he did so even though the wicked had wanted and plotted his destruction — clearly because he held to those precepts: "I consider your testimonies."
The second half of the verse records no counter-plan. The psalmist's mind is filled with something else, and that brings a result:
Again and again the soul is seen facing enemies who oppress it... In one sense we always are, but it often applies in evil days. "The wicked lie in wait to destroy me." But the soul waits in peace, occupied with God's testimonies. And this does give peace, and enables the soul to leave all to God.
Rescue has not yet come. The verse shows what holds the godly man up while he waits for it:
Made alive and revived, the godly man can say, "I am yours." He had prayed for comfort (v. 76), and waited for comfort (v. 82). Now he receives that comfort as he learns the settled purpose of God. However, he still looks for final deliverance from his enemies, who have waited to destroy him. He is still waiting for God's salvation. Meanwhile he finds his present strength in considering God's testimonies (v. 95).
His confidence rests on something he says just before this verse: "I am yours." Belonging to God has two results:
May we ever take to heart the truth, "I am Yours." If this is so, then God has exclusive rights over every aspect of our lives. He will also save us from all the enemy's opposition and from all the temptations that test us. But He does this only in the measure that we realize this wonderful fact: we belong to Him. The wicked are a constant threat to the safety and welfare of God's people, and they really do want to destroy them. But faith can rise high above any fear of such evil, by simply considering God's testimonies (v. 95).
How does anyone overcome an enemy like this? One writer points to the same word the psalmist is considering:
How do we overcome the powers of darkness? "I write to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one... I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one" (1 John 2:13-14). These verses give us the secret. We can only overcome the enemy through the Word of God — when that Word is living in us and we live by it every day.
- Waiting — The wicked wait. A quiet season is not the end of the battle but a lull designed to make you relax.
- Why — The wicked hunt him because he holds to God's precepts. Loyalty to the word marks him out.
- Instead — He does not answer the ambush on its own terms. The soul waits in peace, occupied with God's testimonies, and so can leave all to God.
- Meanwhile — Final deliverance is still future. Considering the testimonies is the present strength that carries him through the interval.
- Because — "I am yours" is the ground. Faith rises above fear of evil to the degree that we realize we belong to Him. It overcomes as the word of God lives in us.
I have seen an end of all perfection thy commandment is exceeding broad.
Psalm 119 is the long psalm about God's word. Here the writer sets two things side by side: everything he has watched run out, and the one thing that never does.
The first line is a verdict drawn from watching life. Nothing in this world holds up under close inspection.
To everything here on earth there is a limit, an end! Even the best of men are still sinners. Even the most perfect in this world still fall far short of God's perfection. That is why the Psalmist has to say, "I have seen a limit to all perfection…"
One writer read through centuries of church history and summed up what he found with this verse:
As far as man is concerned, the ruin was complete. The Reformation was a wonderful thing, but Luther's flesh was very strong. It was a mixed thing, though the working of the Spirit of God was astonishing — it was God's work… What a world we live in! "I have seen a limit to all perfection, but your commandment is exceedingly broad."
The second line is not vague praise. The word itself has a definite sense.
The word "broad" here means, the experts say, "in any and every direction." I would take that to show that God's word covers everything. It is relevant to every detail of our lives; its scope is broad. It is not, of course, limited to our first day of the week — we hear of Sunday Christians sometimes. God's Word applies to everything. That is one reason why study of the word is so important.
Limits are easy to find in everything else. Here the psalmist looks for one and cannot find it.
He has looked out upon all human perfection and seen in every particular how limited it is. It is easy enough to find an end everywhere in this way. But in the word of God, which controls him as his commandment, he has found none: "it is exceedingly broad." Like space itself, it has no boundary wall. Yet it holds an infinite fullness, not an emptiness — an infinite speech, and not a silence. It is the speech of God.
The psalmist finds this out while he is still in danger.
He still looks for final deliverance from his enemies, who have waited to destroy him. While waiting for God's salvation, he finds his present strength in thinking about God's testimonies (v. 95). Around him he sees nothing but failure everywhere. Among men nothing reaches perfection. Still, he finds that God's Word is exceedingly broad. It is broad enough to reach every detail of life, and so guide in every circumstance that can arise.
Breadth has a consequence for anyone who reads. You will not finish this book.
The perfection that man seeks always has an end, a limit. The commandment of God stands in contrast to it: it is "exceedingly broad." Just as eternity has no limit, so it is with the Word of God. We may think God's Word is limited to 66 books. But the 66 books bear witness that the truth of God's Word is infinitely great. Many have said that, though they have searched Scripture for years, they still find gems of truth that had never occurred to them before. God's Word is like a living tree that continues bearing abundant fruit endlessly.
You can master other books. You cannot master this one, and the reason is its Author.
The holy Scriptures are infinite in their quality too, because they are perfect, coming from God. Take up another book, and you may soon master most of its contents. But who can grasp the written word?… Because it is God's word, it is infinite in its height, depth, length and breadth. We do well to remember this. We are finite creatures, so we can know only in part, and give out to others only in part.
- Limit. Everything on earth reaches an end. Even the best people fall far short of God's perfection. So the psalmist says he has seen a limit to all perfection.
- No limit. God's word has no boundary wall. What fills it is infinite fullness, not emptiness — the speech of God.
- Breadth. "Broad" means "in any and every direction." God's word covers everything. It is relevant to every detail of life, not to one day of the week.
- Guidance. The psalmist learns this while enemies wait to destroy him. The word is broad enough to guide in every circumstance that can arise.
- Growth. The word is infinite and we are finite, so we only ever know in part. Readers who have searched it for years still find truths they had never seen before.
MEM. Oh how I love thy law! it is my meditation all the day.
Here the psalmist does not argue. He cries out that he loves God's law, and says it fills his thoughts all day long. Two questions follow. How does anyone come to love a law? And what does "all the day" look like for a person with work to do?
Notice what the psalmist does not say. He gives no reason and names no benefit.
The godly man expresses his affection for the Word. He loves it, not simply for the blessing that it brings, or the effects it produces, but for its own sake.
The words "all the day" measure how much room he gave the Word:
The psalmist begins by once more expressing his delight in the law: it gives him constant occupation — "all the day." Remember: it is one who can speak like this who can tell us of the wisdom it has given him. We may not get the same results without a similar devotion to it. If it is God's word, what can all the wisdom outside it be, compared with that?
Love for a law is not natural. Writers connect this verse to God's promise to write His law inside people rather than only on stone:
The time is coming when God will at last have a resting-place for His law in the hearts of His people. It will come under the terms of the new covenant of grace, sealed by "the blood of the eternal covenant": "I will put my laws into their minds, and write them on their hearts." Then the law will be their delight, and their whole language will set out its perfections... But this is the fruit of grace through redemption, enjoyed now too by every heart born again.
Others reach the same point through Christ. A believer sings this line, not by going back under law, but because of what Christ did with it:
Though we are not "under law but under grace," yet we delight in it, and fulfil its righteous requirements as we walk according to the Spirit. The believer can even now sing, "Oh, how I love your law!" He can sing it because he is brought to rejoice in the One who has magnified it, in the One who bore its curse for him on the tree, in the One who has secured the blessings of the new covenant.
Why should words draw affection at all? One writer answers with a comparison: nobody pores over letters unless they love the writer.
Suppose I find all my happiness in keeping company with someone and listening to him talk. Or, if he is away, I read his letters and writings, pore over them, repeat them to myself and follow the trains of thought they set off. What accounts for the delight I take in his writings? It is my delight in the speaker or writer, my sympathy with his thoughts and principles, my attachment to the man himself. It is the same with the word of God. If my delight is in it, and I meditate on it day and night — my thoughts returning to it whenever they are free of other pressures — that is because God Himself is known, loved, and delighted in.
Meditation here is not reading more. It is working over what has already been read:
By reading, our minds become well furnished with truth. By meditation, the truth in its force and bearing is brought home to us. Just as the ox not only feeds in the pastures but also lies down to chew the cud, so we need to ruminate, to turn things over in our minds — for it is not what we eat that nourishes us but what we digest.
Does ordinary life leave room for this? One writer meets the objection:
There are some Christians who read a chapter (a verse, perhaps!) every morning as a sort of charm to protect them through the day. Is that meditating day and night on the word of God? "What about our occupations?" you say. Well, let me ask you in return: in the middle of your occupations, is it the word given by God that nourishes you — that word given for your soul's enjoyment, and to guide you in the path of Christ?
Love for the Word does not stay inside. It shows in the open, under pressure:
Results follow from the Word having its place in the affections. It makes the godly man wiser than his enemies. So Peter and John found when they stood before the Jewish leaders; and Stephen too, whose enemies "could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he was speaking."
- Grace first. This love is not an achievement. It is the fruit of grace through redemption — God writing His law on the heart, not only on stone.
- Then love. The psalmist loves the Word for its own sake — not for the blessing it brings.
- Love of a Person. We pore over letters because we love the writer. Delight in God's word means we know and love God Himself.
- Love fills the day. "All the day" is constant occupation — not a verse in the morning as a charm, but the Word nourishing you in the middle of your work.
- And it makes you wise. Where the Word holds the affections, wisdom follows — the kind Stephen's enemies could not withstand.
Thy commandments make me wiser than mine enemies; for they are ever with me.
The psalmist says something startling: he is wiser than his enemies, and the wisdom comes from God's commandment, not from himself. What kind of wisdom is this, and why can hostile minds never match it?
The claim sounds like pride until you see who gets the credit. One writer answers that worry by looking at what each side does with the Bible.
The psalmist is not arrogant when he says, "Your commandment makes me wiser than my enemies." In verse 99 he adds, "I have more understanding than all my teachers." In our verse he faces enemies. They are not believers. They reject the Word, the Bible. They say that other books like the Veda and the Koran are also inspired — so what is so special about your Bible? So you and I, as Christians, have knowledge that those who are not Christians do not have. The natural man (the man without the Spirit) does not accept "the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him" (1 Corinthians 2:14).
The verse before speaks of loving God's law. One commentator says the love came first and the wisdom followed: the psalmist was not studying to gain an advantage.
He loves God's law in itself. It is of God to him, the revelation of His will. It is his meditation all the day. It was not for the fruit he got from it, nor for the wisdom it gave him in dealing with others; he loved it for itself. This is the mark of the new man. But loving it for its own sake made him wiser than his enemies, however subtle and cunning they may be. There is a path which the vulture's eye has not seen — a path "wise as to what is good and innocent as to what is evil." It outreaches and baffles the adversaries of God and of the godly man. They can form no estimate of the principles of those who fear God.
Commentators differ on what is "ever with me." Some take it as the commandments, always at hand — older translations read "they are ever with me." Others take it as the enemies, always present. Read as the word, it teaches at a depth no human teacher can reach.
But this assumes constancy and consistency in them. "They are ever with me." It is divine wisdom, given directly. It acts on the soul itself and forms it, and it is perfect in every respect. So it gives a discernment that no human teaching, however godly, can give. Human teaching may be very useful, since it is drawn from the word and leads to it. But even with the highest gift, nothing gained that way becomes the soul's own faith with God until it is learned there. It may be pointed out, and it may interest the heart and mind. But to make it your own, you must learn it with God. "They will all be taught by God."
Read the other way, the point is that the hostility never lets up. An Outline of Sound Words says meditation on the word "made him wiser than his ever-present foes."
This wisdom is not raw intelligence. If God governs the world for righteousness, the man who ignores Him misreads everything around him.
The psalmist has enemies, and he has them because of the law of his God. But this is what makes him wiser than all of them. And it must be so, if "iniquity" is, as Scripture calls it, "vanity," if ignorance of God is "folly," and if the government of the world is one that makes for righteousness. So the enemies of the righteous can understand neither God, nor the world, nor the people they deal with. Even the hearts of others, and their own hearts, are most unreliable: "deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?"
This wisdom showed itself when believers stood before rulers who had power over them.
Results follow when the Word has its place in the affections. It makes the godly man wiser than his enemies. Peter and John found this when they stood before the Jewish leaders; and so did Stephen, whose enemies "could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he was speaking" (Acts 4:13-16; Acts 6:10).
Daniel and his three friends show the same pattern. A pagan king tested them and found them "ten times better than all the magicians and enchanters that were in all his kingdom." Edward Dennett says they could have made the psalmist's words their own, and hopes young Christians today will take the lesson to heart.
- Loved — the wisdom starts with love for the word, not with wanting an edge. The psalmist "loved it for itself," and the advantage followed.
- Given — the credit goes to God's commandment, not to the student. This is knowledge the natural man does not have, so it is no boast.
- Kept — the word "ever with me" forms the soul itself. It gives a discernment no human teacher can pass on.
- Blind — the enemies cannot match it. They misread God, the world, other people, and their own hearts.
- Proved — Daniel before a king, Peter and John before the rulers, Stephen before his accusers. The word held close makes the weak unanswerable.
I have more understanding than all my teachers; for thy testimonies are my meditation.
Psalm 119 gives God's word many names — law, testimonies, precepts, statutes. Here the writer says he has outgrown his own teachers, and the reason is not talent or schooling but steady thought on what God has said.
Each name for Scripture in this psalm carries its own force. This verse uses the word "testimonies".
The term translated 'law' is the Hebrew word Torah, which also means 'teaching' — it is what God has taught and we therefore need to learn. 'Judgments' are decisions God has made. The term translated 'statutes' comes from the word for engraving, which implies that these words cannot be changed. 'Precepts' are laid on us with authority, and 'commandments' call for obedience. To me the term 'testimonies' shows that God's word is a testimony or witness to God.
The claim sounds arrogant until you see who these teachers are and which wisdom is meant.
The Psalmist speaks of ordinary teachers, not spiritual gifts. If he says he is wiser than his own teachers, he means spiritual wisdom, for there is another kind of wisdom. James describes the difference: "This wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic… But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere" (James 3:15, 17). This wisdom from above does not come from our own intellect. It is a gift from heaven.
"Meditation" here is not emptying the mind. The word has a plain meaning, and it comes with a condition.
The word means "to talk to yourself" about the subject filling your mind. As these passages show, David did this in the presence of the Lord… The lesson is that meditation, if it is to be of value and blessing, must be done in the presence of God — depending on Him and on the ministry of His Spirit. Otherwise we would get lost in a maze of human thoughts and speculations.
Study alone will not do it, and neither will a verse caught in passing.
One reason why things have such little hold over our hearts is that we meditate on them so little. If we are ever to make truth our own, we must sit down quietly in private and meditate on it. I am sure God meets His people wonderfully in a passing verse or line of Scripture, but that is not the same as meditation. Study will not make up for meditation. Meditation is what forms the affections of the heart.
The verse is not an attack on teachers. It sets them in order under something higher.
The Word in the heart is above all teaching, however good and right that teaching may be. So by the Word a godly man can gain understanding above all his teachers.
Gift and training do not settle the matter. Someone with no education can outstrip the most gifted teachers, if Scripture does not govern what they say.
Take all the men of special gift — the quickest to take things in, the best fitted to pass on knowledge. If Scripture does not control what they say, then in the end the poor man with no other education, holding only to the Word, may truly and honestly say with the psalmist, "I have more understanding than all my teachers, for your testimonies are my meditation."
Three comparisons stand side by side — foes, friends, elders — and each matches a different way of handling the word.
If the Psalmist had been taught to keep the precepts of the Lord in heart and life, then he knew more than the most respected old sinner had ever learned, more than the ancient philosophers had even hoped to know. He had the Word with him, and so he outstripped his foes. He meditated on it, and so he outran his friends. He practised it, and so he outshone his elders (Spurgeon, The Psalms).
What was true for the psalmist reaches further now that the New Testament is in our hands.
The Psalmist could say, "I have more understanding than all my teachers, for your testimonies are my meditation" (Ps. 119:99). If that was true of him in his day, it will be even more true today for those who make the New Testament Scriptures of Truth their meditation.
Yet few take up that offer in full.
Even among those truly converted by it, how few receive the word of God as whole-heartedly as the psalmist did! It is not too much to say that even for most Christians, the blank pages of their Bibles outnumber the full ones.
- Testimonies. God's word is His own witness to Himself — meditating on it is how understanding grows.
- Carried. He had the word with him, and so outstripped his enemies — step one is keeping it near.
- Meditated. He talked it over with himself in God's presence, and so outran his friends. Step two is quiet, private thought — study will not do it.
- Practised. He obeyed it, and so outshone the aged — step three turns understanding into life.
- Available. You need no education, and no teacher can take the Word's place. The danger is not lack of access but the blank pages in the Bible we already own.
I understand more than the aged, because I have observed thy precepts.
The psalmist makes a bold claim. He understands more than men who have lived far longer than he has. And he gives the reason: not talent, not years, but keeping what God has said.
The verse is not about church officials or spiritual leaders. It points to men whose standing came from having lived a long time. Older translations call them "the ancients," and the writers quoted here use that word.
The ancients in this verse are men of long experience. We must not think these ancients are the same as the elders of the New Testament. An ancient in Israel was simply a wise old man with long experience. An elder in the New Testament is a brother in Christ who has the Holy Spirit living in him. Of course, an older brother today may be less wise spiritually than a younger one. But the older brother does have more experience. Wisdom in the sense of spiritual understanding, joined with a spiritual walk, is not always tied to age or long experience.
Age teaches a great deal. But it can teach only what one mind gathers in one lifetime. Set that beside God's word and the comparison collapses. Note the small word "for": it names the terms on which God gives His knowledge.
So with the "elders," the men of long experience. Their knowledge is far too limited to stand for a moment beside the knowledge that comes from the word of God. It is limited in how long it lasts, in how far it reaches, and in what one mind can hold. But notice all through how the psalm insists on a practical requirement as the condition on which God gives all such knowledge: "I understand more than the aged, for I keep your precepts."
Verses 98–100 set three comparisons side by side: enemies, teachers, the aged. Each one turns on the place God's word holds in the heart. Good human teaching still has its place. The word simply out-ranks it.
The Word in the heart is above all teaching, however good and right that teaching may be in its place. So by the Word the godly man can gain understanding beyond all his teachers. And the Word, when loved and obeyed, will give more understanding than all the human experience of the aged.
Scripture opens to the person who submits to it. What comes back is more than insight. It is a pull toward one path and away from every other, and a heart trained to tell good from evil.
Nothing teaches like the word of God, when we seek it out and search it in holy submission, and receive it like a new-born baby. In this way we gain understanding — divine wisdom — for our mind and our path. So it gives more wisdom than human experience does, when we keep God's precepts. It becomes a positive motive. We prefer it to every evil way. We leave them all for the one way that is God's, because the heart has learned to delight in it. ... Through God's precepts the heart itself is formed. It learns to discern good and evil. This is not just obedience to a law. It is moral discernment grown up in the heart and will.
Each comparison has its own action. The third is the sharpest: the psalmist does not just study the precepts, he lives them.
If the psalmist had been taught to keep the precepts of the Lord in heart and life, then this was more than the oldest and most respected sinner had ever learned. It was more than the ancient philosophers had even hoped to know. He had the Word with him, and so he outstripped his enemies. He thought deeply on it, and so he outran his friends. He put it into practice, and so he outshone his elders. (Spurgeon, The Psalms)
Four young captives proved the claim in real life. They trained in the king's college in Babylon, and then the king examined them himself.
They were all brought before the king, and Nebuchadnezzar himself examined the students of his college. Among them all, none was found like Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah, so they stood before the king. "In all matters of wisdom and understanding that the king asked them about, he found them ten times better than all the magicians and astrologers in his whole kingdom" (vv. 19, 20). Each of them could have taken up the words of the psalmist: "I understand more than the aged, for I keep your precepts" (Psalm 119:98-100). May all the young Christians of today take this lesson to heart!
- Aged. Not officeholders. Just old, experienced men who gained their wisdom by living a long time.
- Ceiling. Their wisdom is limited in how long it lasts, how far it reaches, and how much it holds. God's word is not.
- Condition. God gives that knowledge on practical terms. "For I keep your precepts" is the hinge of the verse.
- Submission. Search the word in submission and it gives divine wisdom. Then it becomes a motive that turns the heart from every evil way.
- Proof. Daniel and his three friends were young, but the king found them ten times better than all his experts.
I have refrained my feet from every evil path, that I might keep thy word.
Psalm 119 is a long song about loving God's word. Here that love shows up in the feet: the writer refuses certain roads, and he says why.
Love for God's word does more than stir the soul. It changes where a person walks.
(v. 101) Love for the Word not only produces inward effects in the soul, but it has a practical effect upon the walk. It turns the feet from every evil way, so that we can obey the Word while separated from evil.
Notice the order: turning away comes first, and obedience follows.
Why does he hold back? One writer points to delight rather than a rule.
It becomes a positive motive. The heart prefers it to every evil way. We leave every other way for the one that is God's way, because the heart has learned to delight in it... It is not merely obedience to a law, but moral discernment grown up in the heart and will. Through use, and with the heart attached to God's word, the senses learn to discern good and evil.
Who decides which ways are evil? One commentator warns against trusting our own hearts or other people's directions.
Without the word, zeal and energy expose us to constant danger. As men of God, we ought to trust neither our own hearts nor the direction of others. We ought to obey God rather than men. We owe Him this honour. As we look to the Lord, we can count on the Holy Spirit to add His help to our weakness... But it is through His word, and not our feeling and ideas. "I hold back my feet from every evil way, in order to keep your word."
Earlier in the psalm the writer says he hid God's word in his heart so that he might not sin. One writer states the link both ways.
Here is the practical side of this wisdom: it keeps us from every evil way! In verse 11 we saw that what kept him from sinning was that he hid the Word of God in his heart. Someone has well said: "If the Word does not keep you from sin, then sin will keep you from the Word." We need God's Word every day to guide and direct our steps.
Believers learn that they are to work out their own salvation with fear and trembling. For it is God who works in them, both to will and to work for His good pleasure. That is, by the power of the Holy Spirit of God in them they are to hold back their "feet from every evil way." (Ps. 119:101.) The Christian starts with the salvation of his soul. He is not told to work out that. The Lord Jesus worked it out when He died, "the righteous for the unrighteous, that He might bring us to God." (1 Peter 3:18.)
The distinction matters. Christ finished the salvation of the soul. The daily refusal of evil paths works that salvation out, and God supplies both the will and the power.
Commentators read this verse as the closing note of a section on what Scripture does when it is genuinely received. One treats it as the summary of everything the psalm has just claimed about wisdom.
And he closes all this with "I have refrained my feet from every evil way: that I may keep Thy word."
- Love — Love for God's word is the root. This verse shows it reaching the feet.
- Refusal — Turning away comes before obeying. Leave the evil ways, and you can keep the word.
- Preference — The heart leaves every other road because it delights in God's road. Obedience becomes taste, not just rule-keeping.
- Guidance — Feelings and other people's directions are not the standard. God's word marks which ways are evil.
- Power — The believer holds back, but God works in him to will and to act. It all rests on a salvation Christ already finished.
I have not departed from thy judgments; for it is thou that hast taught me.
The psalmist says he has never turned off God's path, and he names the reason: God taught him. So the verse raises a question. What makes truth hold a person so that they never walk away from it?
One writer traces that steadiness back to who did the teaching. You only give up a lesson for the sake of the one who gave it.
We also see how directly the soul connects itself with God in grace here, and knows that the word comes from God. This gives the word authority. "I do not turn aside from your rules, for you have taught me." This carries great weight in the soul, once the soul has felt the power of God's word. What man has taught may be given up for man. But what God has taught will never be given up for God (John 6:68). And for whom else would we give it up? It has the bond of faith and authority for the soul. It comes from Him and leads to Him.
"You have taught me" is a short phrase, but it describes contact, not just information.
Above all, the Word held in affection brings the believer into direct contact with God, "you have taught me" (compare Luke 10:39; 2 Timothy 2:7). This is the secret of a wisdom beyond anything that can be gained from man, teachers, or human experience. It is a wisdom gained in the presence of God, and held in faith with God.
Being shown something is not the same as owning it. One writer draws that line even around the best human teaching.
It is divine wisdom, and it comes straight from God. So it gives a discernment that no human teaching can give, however godly that teaching is. It does this because it acts on the soul itself, forms it, and is perfect in every respect. Human teaching may be very useful when it is drawn from the word and leads back to the word. But even with the highest gift, nothing gained by it is held in the faith of the soul with God until it is learned there. It may be pointed out. It may interest the heart and mind. But to have it, you must learn it with God. "They will all be taught by God."
That same promise can be twisted. Another writer notes that God teaching His people does not rule out the teachers He provides.
"They will all be taught by God" is true of all God's people. But it in no way excludes teachers and other ordinary means, though in rare cases people are taught without this or that help. And it is usually a groundless claim to say you learned straight from God through His own word, apart from those He has set in the body of Christ for this very purpose.
Scripture changes character for the reader who has heard God speak in it. Joy and sweetness follow from that.
Here is the simple "book," become the divine "oracle": God has indeed spoken in it; what a joy beyond words to have heard the voice of God! God speaking! and to me! How the heart is moved by it! "How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!"
The practical payoff is protection. One writer turns the verse into a question about how we use our time.
The secret is that we stay close to the Lord Jesus. He has the words of eternal life. It is so easy to drift, to be distracted and deceived. "You have taught me," the verse continues. We stay close to the Lord so that He may teach us. Do we really take time to be with Him and to listen to His voice so that we may be taught what He wants us to do?
- Taught, therefore steady. The psalmist's unbroken walk does not rest on his own strength. The second half of the verse gives the reason for the first half.
- Taught by God, not merely by men. The Word held in affection brings the soul into direct contact with God. That wisdom is gained in His presence.
- Taught personally, not second-hand. Even the finest human teaching only points something out. You must learn it with God before it is your own.
- Taught through means, all the same. Being taught by God does not cancel the teachers He gives. Boasting that you learned apart from them is a groundless claim.
- Taught, therefore kept. Because the lesson came from Him, no one else can claim it back. The one who keeps listening does not drift.
How sweet are thy words unto my taste! more than honey to my mouth!
Psalm 119:103 comes straight after the psalmist tells God, "You have taught me." The verse is not about hard study, but about what the Word tastes like once God Himself has taught you.
One commentator points out that this love is not aimed at what the Word produces.
The godly man expresses his affection for the Word. He loves it not simply for the blessing it brings, or the effects it produces, but for its own sake. That which the psalmist loves is the subject of his meditation all the day.
One writer ties this delight to a discovery: God Himself is speaking in the book.
The Word has power both to attract and to separate. It moves the affections as well as guiding the walk. Here the simple "book" has become the divine "oracle": God has indeed spoken in it. What an inexpressible joy to have heard the voice of God! God speaking — and to me! How it moves the heart! "How sweet are Your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" This attraction brings with it a necessary turning away from the opposite side: "Through Your precepts I get understanding; therefore I hate every false way."
Hearing the Word taught and tasting it are two different things. That difference is not something a preacher can supply.
All that those who hand out the Word can do is work knowledge; Christ works grace. They can only give the light of the truth; Christ gives the love of the truth. They can only teach what to believe; Christ teaches how to believe. Christ gives us a taste of the Word. Ministers may set the food of the Word before you and carve it for you. But only Christ can cause you to taste it… It is one thing to hear a truth preached, another thing to taste it. David had got a taste of the Word: "You have taught me… how sweet are Your words to my taste!"
One writer links this taste to what already fills the heart.
To experience the sweetness of honey you have to taste it! "The full soul loathes the honeycomb, but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet" (Prov. 27:7). When our hearts are full with other things, with worldly things, then we have no appetite for the Word. Absorbing the Word makes us pliable in His hands and willing to do His will, which is always good and acceptable and perfect.
Writing on the honey of Proverbs, one commentator sets a limit on how far we can live on what others gather.
Honey pictures the sweet ministry of the Word of God. It is the sharing of what each believer gathers by searching the Scriptures carefully. But we must realise that all human ministry has its limits. We cannot live entirely from what others gather… We must rather get to the Word of God ourselves. Scripture itself will never sicken us, though man's thoughts about it may. The Word stands far above all ministry. It is bread, milk, solid food and water — what we need and what satisfies every day, and nothing can take its place.
The next verse adds, "I hate every false way." One commentator joins the two as one movement.
When you love the Word like this and see its blessed effects, it becomes more precious to the soul than natural things, however sweet. The one who knows the sweetness of the Word gains understanding to tell good from evil. He also learns to refuse the evil, and so says, "I hate every false way."
Another writer points to what these words do when days are at their darkest.
Let us taste how precious these rays of God's eternal purpose are. Let their sweetness refresh our spiritual palate! "How sweet are Your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" (Psalm 119:103). These words are full of heavenly peace and love and purity. They delight, encourage and strengthen the heart in the darkest days.
- Taught → tasted. The sweetness follows "You have taught me." When the book becomes God's own voice to you, it moves the heart.
- Tasted → given. Others can set the food before you and carve it; only Christ causes you to taste it.
- Tasted → hungry. A full soul loathes the honeycomb. Hearts stuffed with the world have no appetite for the Word.
- Tasted → firsthand. Another's ministry is honey that someone else gathered. Scripture itself never sickens you, so go to it yourself.
- Tasted → hating. The one who knows this sweetness discerns good from evil and refuses it: "I hate every false way."
From thy precepts I get understanding; therefore I hate every false path.
This verse closes a run of lines in Psalm 119 about loving God's law and finding it sweeter than honey. Now the psalmist draws his conclusion: what he learns from God's precepts turns him against everything false.
The psalm ties understanding to obedience, not to study alone. One writer shows how the word shapes the person who submits to it. What grows is deeper than rule-keeping:
Nothing teaches like the word of God, sought out and searched in holy subjection, and received as a new-born babe. We have understanding — divine wisdom — for our mind and our path. So it gives more wisdom than human experience, when we keep God's precepts. It becomes a positive motive; we prefer it to every evil way. We leave them all for the one way that is God's, because the heart has learned to delight in it... Through God's precepts the heart itself is formed — learns to discern good and evil. It is not merely obedience to a law, but moral discernment grown up in the heart and will.
Verse 102 says, "for you have taught me." That is the ground of the understanding in verse 104. It also explains why this wisdom goes beyond what teachers can give:
Above all, the Word held in affection brings the believer into direct contact with God, "you have taught me"... This is the secret of a wisdom beyond anything you can gain from man, teachers, or human experience. It is a wisdom gained in the presence of God, and held in faith with God.
Verse 103 and verse 104 belong together. The sweetness of the word and the hatred of the false way are two poles of one movement:
Here the simple "book" becomes the divine "oracle": God has indeed spoken in it; what an inexpressible joy to have heard the voice of God! God speaking! and to me! How the heart is moved by it! "How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" And this attraction is necessarily a repulsion from the opposite pole: "Through your precepts I get understanding; therefore I hate every false way."
Hamilton Smith puts the same movement in terms of what the taste of the word leads to:
The one who knows the sweetness of the Word has understanding to discern between good and evil. He also learns to refuse the evil, and so says, "I hate every false way."
Calling a way false assumes a standard. The verse leaves only two categories, and one writer warns that we want a third:
It is good at the start of your Christian life to be fully awake to this: the word of God must be the touchstone for everything in your path... It is either a right way because it agrees with the word, or it is a false way to be hated. Man naturally loves to tone things down to keep his conscience quiet. God in creation "separated the light from the darkness," and morally He does so still. Man would blend them together into a kind of dim twilight; but beware of these subtle compromises.
Hatred targets the way, not the person walking it. And age excuses nothing:
We are to hate what the Lord hates — not the persons, but the deeds. The psalmist could say he hated "every false way," "vain thoughts," and "lying" (Ps. 119:104, 113, 163). Everything not according to Holy Scripture is a false way, vain, a lie, and to be hated, even though it may boast of being ancient.
How does a person come to hate what he once loved? One writer answers from the Spirit's work in the believer:
"I hate every false way." This is the result of the daily renewing of our minds by the Holy Spirit. The Spirit uses the Word of God to form our thoughts and to give us a completely new set of values. This leads us to hate the very things we loved when unconverted.
- Precepts — Understanding here is not gathered by study alone. It grows in the person who obeys what he has already learned, until discernment shapes the heart instead of standing over it as a rule.
- Taught — The source is direct contact with God through His word. That is why his wisdom outruns anything teachers or experience can give.
- Sweetness — Verses 103 and 104 are one motion. The same pull that draws the heart to God's word drives it away from the false way.
- Touchstone — Scripture is the measure, so there are only two options: the right way and the false way. The dim twilight in between is our invention, not God's.
- Hatred — The target is the false way, never the person on it. We come to hate what we once loved by the Spirit's daily renewing of our minds, not by a resolution we make.
NUN. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.
This verse comes from the longest psalm in the Bible, a psalm about God's word. The verse is about walking. How does anyone know where to put the next foot down, in a world that gives no light of its own?
The verse names two things: a lamp and a light. They are not the same. One serves the foot, the other the road.
You will notice that the lamp is useful for the feet, while the light shines upon the path. The word of God gives direction for your next step. It also gives the principles that should shape how you live. The light shines on the way ahead of you.
The image assumes real darkness. One writer puts the darkness in the strongest terms, and says where the only light comes from.
There is not a single ray of light in this dark world except the light Scripture gives.
Yet the psalmist is not describing gloom he must feel his way through. What he sees is a marked-out track, and that changes how he sets out.
He knows what the Word is. It is a light shining in the darkness of the world, showing the footpath through it — narrow, but sure. The path is not dark, even if the world is; and the traveller sets out on it with resolve.
Earlier verses in the psalm show the heart delighting in God's word for its own sake. This verse turns to something else — the word doing a different job.
It is remarkable how many things the word applies to. In the last section the heart and affections were engaged in it for its own sake, leading to wisdom. Now it is a guide to our path through the world in which we walk — a very different service. It "is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." That is what it is. It is the means of a right walk. Not only because it sets the heart right, but because it casts light on this world. And not only light on the world as it is, but on our path through it.
A lamp at the feet lights a small circle. The people who came back from exile in Babylon show how that works. They asked Ezra, a teacher of the law, to read it aloud. Then they acted on what they heard.
There they found God's command to keep the Feast of Tabernacles at that very time of year (Neh. 8:14). The commandment of the Lord shone as a lamp for their feet (Prov. 6:23); and the people obeyed His word at once.
That is why we carry the lamp daily instead of checking it once. Turning to it becomes a habit, not an emergency measure.
We do well to put this into practice. That means turning to God's Word and seeking the instruction and guidance He gives there. And doing it daily, in every situation.
If the word is the light, we set other lights aside — even the ones closest to us. One writer names two of them: our own feelings, and the advice of other people.
As men of God, we ought to trust neither our own hearts nor the direction of others... looking to the Lord, we can count on the Holy Spirit to help us in our weakness... But it is through His word, and not our feelings and ideas.
Some days feel too dark and confusing for any lamp to help. One writer answers that, and is honest about why people still lose the way.
No day in the history of the Church on earth will ever be so dark and difficult that God's Word has no light in it. That light is there for any believer who wants to walk in the path of obedience. We may miss the path through ignorance or self-will. We may not care about it, because we lack devotion. We may shrink back from it, because we lack faith. But the light for the path is still there, for anyone who seeks it and wants to obey the Word.
- Darkness — the world supplies no light of its own; every ray for the walk comes from Scripture.
- Lamp — the lamp is for the feet: it shows the next step, the immediate decision in front of you.
- Light — the light is for the path: it shows the way ahead, and the principles that shape how you live.
- Step — guidance comes as it came to the exiles who returned: read it, obey at once, and God leads you on step by step.
- Obedience — God never withdraws the light. We miss it through self-will or fear, not through His silence.
I have sworn, and I will perform it, that I will keep thy righteous judgments.
The psalmist has just called God's word a lamp for his feet, and now he binds himself with an oath to walk by it. Two questions follow. What is he swearing to keep? And can anyone promise God that he will perform?
A lamp is useless to a man who refuses to move. The word only helps the one who acts on it. So the vow follows the light. What he binds himself to is God's own standard of right — called in older translations "righteous judgments."
To benefit from the light of the Word, we must obey it. So the saint devotes himself to perform the Word. Here it is called the Lord's "righteous judgments," in contrast to man's unrighteous ways.
The word does more than warm the heart. It also shows a person where to walk in a dark world. And the name it carries here matters. "Testimonies" speak to a man about himself. "Judgments" sort God's ways from the world's.
In the last section the heart and affections were engaged in the word for its own sake, leading to wisdom. Now it is a guide to our path through the world in which we walk — a very different service… Yet it never loses the character of obedience — here in Jewish form: "I have sworn and will perform it: I will keep Your righteous judgments." It is not testimonies here, which is for oneself; righteous judgments are the contrast of God's ways and man's ways.
Real obedience does not begin at the moment of testing. Something is settled in the heart long before.
We have first the steadfast purpose of heart which underlies all true obedience. It rests on knowing what the Word is — a light shining in the darkness of the world, showing the footpath through it, sure if narrow. The path is not dark, even if the world is. And the traveller sets out on it with resolve. He will keep the judgments of righteousness, God's decisions about good and evil, which largely (but not wholly) define his way.
Commentators differ over how to hear these words. One writer notices the tone of the promise itself:
"I have sworn, and I will perform…" This sounds very much like making a vow. The psalmist is also very sure of himself: "…I will perform…"
The same writer traces where the psalm takes that confidence by the end of the section. Vowing gives way to being held:
We are back at verse 106, where he makes this solemn vow: "I have sworn, and I will perform…" But in verse 112 there seems to be a noticeable advance. He is not so very confident of himself, for he has learned to bow his heart before the Lord. There is no self-will or self-confidence any more. His heart and his whole being are in the hands of the Lord. As long as he remains in those hands he will be able to do the Lord's statutes.
Under the law, no one had to make a vow. But once a person made one, it held — and Israel's history shows how fast people overrate their own strength.
The Israelites were not told to make vows, but if they voluntarily made them, God said they must conscientiously perform them. Man is always ready to boast of his strength, not being conscious of his own weakness. Israel, on hearing the law, did not hesitate to say, "all that the Lord has said we will do" — but sadly, they failed miserably.
So writers counsel a different approach now — bring God the honest desire and ask Him for the strength:
I do not believe it is right for a New Testament believer to make a vow. If we have truly seen the plague of our own hearts, we would not dare to trust ourselves to perform what we have promised. It is better to tell the Lord that we love Him truly and want to please Him, but that we need Him to help us. "For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Philippians 2:13).
The oath finds its perfect keeper in only one person:
There is only one Man who could ever rightly have spoken such words, and that is the Lord Jesus Christ. "Behold, I have come to do your will, O God, as it is written of me in the scroll of the book" (Hebrews 10:7). And then: "I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do" (John 17:4).
- Light — the lamp of the previous verse is only useful to the person who obeys it; the vow is the answer to the light.
- Standard — "righteous judgments" are God's decisions about good and evil, set against man's ways and the world's.
- Purpose — settled purpose of heart, not the mood of the moment, underlies all true obedience.
- Weakness — Israel promised, "all that the Lord has said we will do," and failed. So writers urge us to ask God for strength instead of promising Him ours.
- Performance — only one Man could rightly speak such words: Christ, who came to do God's will and finished the work given Him.
I am afflicted very much; O Jehovah, quicken me according to thy word.
God's word lights the psalmist's path, and this verse shows how hard that lit path is to walk. He does not ask God to take him out of the trouble; he asks for life in it, and he rests that asking on God's own word.
One writer looks at the Hebrew word behind "afflicted":
The word for affliction (anah) here is the same as in verse 67 (see that verse), and it literally means "depressed."
One writer reads verses 107 and 108 together:
The path the godly man has to tread is often one of deep affliction; even so, the light of the Word reveals a path through the trial. So here he does not pray for deliverance. He asks for energy in the trial (v. 107), to offer praises God accepts despite it, and to be taught by the Lord through it (v. 108).
Where the ESV reads "give me life," older translations read "quicken me." One writer explains what that older word asks for:
The Psalmist says that God's Word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he asks to be quickened. The word is clearly used more in the sense of being revived, of being restored to more vigorous life.
The plea rests on something God has already pledged:
Opposition from other people keeps him in constant danger. This affliction has far too much power over him. He realises and pleads his need of divine energy, which has in fact been pledged to him, so that he can count upon it.
One writer looks closely at the affliction lying across that lit path:
Here he sees it simply as affliction on the path that the word lit up for him. On that path he looks to God for strength and revival, through the word working in his soul. But his heart's desire here is not deliverance, sweet as that may be. As he turns to God on this path of righteousness, he wants God to accept the free-will offerings of his mouth. Kept on that path with God's thoughts in him, he can bring God free praises — praise the affliction did not interrupt.
One writer answers the fear that the trouble is more than a person can bear:
The writer feels very much afflicted. Does he think he is afflicted beyond his ability to endure? We have a wonderfully comforting promise in 1 Corinthians 10:13: "No temptation (or affliction) has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it."
The same writer carries the prayer forward to what Christians now have:
Being Christians does not mean God will spare us the afflictions, sicknesses and troubles that others face. But God understands, and gives us grace to bear and to endure. The Psalmist prays, "quicken me, O LORD, according to Your Word." He does not yet know about the abundant life that the Lord Jesus Christ came to bring and to show. That life is the life of the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. The New Testament believer has the Lord Jesus as his life. That is why we can say, "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Galatians 2:20).
- Pressed. "Afflicted" is the same Hebrew word used in verse 67 of this psalm, and it literally means "depressed."
- Revived. The ESV's "give me life" is "quicken me" in older translations: a plea to be revived, restored to more vigorous life, and he prays it again and again.
- Not rescued. He does not pray to be taken out. He prays for energy inside the trial, teaching through it, and praise despite it.
- Pledged. "According to your word" is the ground of the prayer: God has pledged the strength he needs, so he can count on it.
- Fulfilled. What he asks for in outline, Christians now have in a Person: Christ Himself as their life, and grace to bear what stays.
Accept, I beseech thee, Jehovah, the voluntary-offerings of my mouth, and teach me thy judgments.
In the verse just before this one, the psalmist says he is severely afflicted. Yet what he asks for next is not rescue. He asks that God would receive the praise he offers of his own accord, and that the lessons would keep coming.
The offering named here belongs to a class of gifts in Israel's worship that were never required. One writer sets it beside the vow, and traces both to what moved the giver.
These offerings were to come from hearts touched by a sense of Jehovah's goodness. They came from people who wanted to do what pleased Him, as the burnt offering shows. A vow would be a special mark of devotion to the will of God. A free-will offering was the simple desire to give God something back for His generosity and goodness.
An older translation reads "the freewill offerings of my mouth." The worshipper brings no animal. The gift is words. One writer marvels that God counts such breath as a sacrifice.
He has brought us where we are. Is it not blessed beyond words that He would have us there, offering up the fruit of our lips for what He has done? Praise flows out of the constant realisation of what He has done. And how it brings out the surpassing magnificence of God in His greatness, that He can take notice of the very smallest things! What a little breath, breathed out in a few words of praise — an "acceptable sacrifice"!
Notice where this verse sits. The trouble of verse 107 does not lead to a plea for escape.
The path the godly man has to walk is often one of deep affliction. Even so, the light of the Word shows him a path through the trial. Here he does not pray for deliverance. He asks instead for strength in the trial (v. 107), to offer acceptable praises despite it, and to be taught by the Lord through it (v. 108).
The man praising here has been astray and knows it. One writer marks carefully what this praise is not.
Kept in that path, with God's thoughts in him, he can bring free praises to God — praise that affliction did not interrupt. He had been brought low. He had been astray. But now he walks with an upright heart, and he longs for these outpourings of his heart, the fruit of the word's power, to be accepted. This is all as it should be. It is not the joy of present salvation. All the way through there is the awareness of having been astray; only the heart is set right.
He does not assume his praise is welcome. He asks. One writer treats that prayer as a question with an obvious answer, and carries the same certainty into the second half of the verse.
He is moved to pray that God will accept the freewill offerings of his mouth. Is there any doubt that such a prayer will be answered? Indeed, it is accompanied by the desire that God would teach him His judgments. Of course, God will answer this too.
The two halves belong together. Praise looks back at help already given. The prayer to be taught looks forward to what he still does not know.
He realises his need of divine energy and pleads for it. God has indeed pledged that energy to him, so he can count on it. So he can bring the free-will offerings of his mouth, which acknowledge the help God has given, and still pray to be taught Jehovah's judgments.
Teaching also works the other way round. It produces the praise. Earlier in the psalm the same writer calls God's judgments "His decisions in the court of conscience." They display His righteousness so clearly "that to learn these will produce a spirit of praise in an upright heart" (Numerical Bible Notes).
- Free. The offering here is one God never demanded — the plain wish to give Him something back for His goodness.
- Spoken. It costs nothing but breath. God treats that breath as a real sacrifice and notices the smallest thing we bring Him.
- Afflicted. It rises in the middle of trouble. The man does not ask to leave the trial. He asks for strength, acceptance and teaching inside it.
- Accepted. He asks instead of assuming. The answer is not in doubt: God receives praise from a heart set right.
- Taught. Learning God's judgments produces the praise. The praise then asks for more teaching. Thanks and hunger to learn travel in one breath.
My life is continually in my hand; but I do not forget thy law.
These words come from a man under daily threat of death. He says in the same breath that he has not forgotten God's law. So what does it mean to carry your own life in your hand? And how does a man in that danger keep the word in view?
The picture is of something small and easy to drop. One writer draws out how weak that hand is:
Verse 109 is striking. To have one's life always in his hand tells us of the frailty and shortness of life, as though it hung on the puny strength of one's hand! Yet his weakness does not stop him remembering God's law.
The word behind "life" is broader than we might assume. And the whole sentence is a set phrase, not a literal description:
The Hebrew word naphesh or nephesh can mean soul, breath, body, creature, or simply life. The Hebrew text here reads: "My life is in my palm continually…" Life here includes everything I am and do each day. My whole being: me! In effect, the believer is always in the very jaws of death. We have countless spiritual enemies in the powers of darkness. The verse is a Hebrew way of describing extreme danger. Paul knew that chains and prison waited for him in every city. He said: "But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself" (Acts 20:24). "I am ready not only to be imprisoned but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus" (Acts 21:13).
The same phrase appears elsewhere in Scripture. Commentators point to those places:
The trial is so real that the godly man's life is always in his hand, and the traps of the wicked surround him (1 Sam. 19:5; Job 13:14). Still, the constant presence of evil does not make him forget the Word. He has the light of the Word, so his soul escapes the traps of the wicked.
This verse sits in a section that opens by calling the word a lamp to the feet:
Now it is a guide for our path through the world we walk in — a very different service. It "is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." That is what it is. It is the means of a right walk. That is not only because it sets the heart right, but because it casts light on this world. And not just light on the world as it is, but light on our path through it.
The danger shapes his prayer. He does not ask God to take him out of it:
The path the godly man has to walk is often one of deep affliction. Even so, the light of the Word shows a path through the trial. So here he does not pray to be rescued. He asks for strength in the trial (v. 107), for praise the Lord accepts despite it, and for the Lord's teaching through it (v. 108).
Danger does not silence him. He keeps praising and keeps praying:
The opposition of men keeps him in constant danger. The affliction has all too much power over him. He sees his need of God's strength and asks for it. God has promised that strength, so he can count on it. So he can bring the free-will offerings of his mouth — his acknowledgment of the help given — and still pray to be taught the Lord's judgments. And he passes through the danger. It does not distract him into forgetting what still rules over him: the law of his God.
The second half of the verse is the marvel. Danger can fill a mind and crowd out everything else:
His affliction, and even his danger, was great. His soul was always in his hand, but this did not change his purpose; he does not forget God's law. He was not so taken up with the danger that it pushed God's law out of his mind. This is a blessed witness to the power of the link with God that grace gives! Where faith is at work, what we know of God counts for more than the strongest effects of circumstances, and more than any power Satan can use.
- Frailty — a life held in the hand is held by "the puny strength of one's hand". The phrase is a set expression for extreme danger, not a literal description.
- Light — the word is a lamp to the feet. It lights not just the world, but the path through it.
- Not escape — he does not ask to be rescued. He asks for strength in the trial, praise despite it, and teaching through it.
- Praise — danger does not stop the free-will offerings of his mouth. He passes through it and still does not forget God's law.
- The link — a man in danger still holds the word. What he knows of God outweighs the strongest pressure of circumstances.
The wicked have laid a snare for me; but I have not wandered from thy precepts.
A trap is not a fight you can see coming. It stays hidden until your foot is already in it — so how does a man keep walking straight when his life is full of them?
A snare hides what it really is. That is why knowing a lot of truth is not, by itself, protection.
Does not a snare represent evil hidden under a fair exterior? … We may think we can escape snares and keep clear of heresies by our own intelligence and knowledge of the truth. But whatever our knowledge and gifts, unless we are in secret communion — abiding in Christ — there is no snare into which we cannot fall. The believers at Corinth found that though they had all knowledge, it was not enough to keep them from the destructive heresy that denied the resurrection.
These traps surround a man whose life is already at risk. The light he walks by is what gets him through.
The trial is so real that the godly man's life is continually in his hand, while the snares of the wicked surround him (1 Sam. 19:5; Job 13:14). Even so, the constant presence of evil does not make him forget the Word. Having the light of the Word, the soul escapes the snares of the wicked.
The claim in the second half of the verse is stronger than "I escaped." The trap failed to alter his direction at all.
He goes further, and speaks of more positive attainment. The snare of the wicked had not made him swerve from the path of divine precept.
The snares were there to take the heart out of him. Something inside him met them.
Craft and subtle schemes were in his path. To an upright mind this is trying and painful, but his feet were steady in the way. They were set in that way to discourage him in it, but the word had its own power within.
Darby weighs that danger against the link with God which grace gives.
His state of affliction, and even danger, was great. His soul was continually in his hand, but this did not change his purpose — he does not forget God's law. He was not so absorbed in the danger that it drove this out of his mind. This is a wonderful witness to the power of the link with God which grace gives. What is known of God, where faith is in exercise, outweighs the strongest effects of circumstances and the power that Satan can exercise.
If the snare is hidden, then cleverness cannot be the defence. What defeats it is refusing to move without God's word.
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 vary his agents. But obedience to the plain and simple Word of God preserves the soul from all his wicked schemes and crafty devices. 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.
One writer asks how we overcome the enemy, and points to the words the Lord Jesus used.
How then can we resist and overcome the enemy? Only by using the Word of God as the sword of the Spirit. Like our Lord Jesus Christ, we must be able to say, "It is written." If we do that, then we can join the Psalmist and give this testimony: "…but I do not stray from Your precepts." The Lord will keep us as we stay close to Him.
- Hidden — a snare is evil dressed up to look harmless. It is not open attack, so cleverness and knowledge alone will not spot it.
- Aimed — the traps target a man already carrying his life in his hand. Their purpose is to discourage him out of the path.
- Lit — the light of the word carries the soul past the snare. Constant evil around him never pushes that word out of his mind.
- Steady — the result is not just escape but no swerving; the trap failed to move him off the line of God's precepts.
- Kept — obedience is the safeguard. The enemy changes tactics, but he can do nothing with someone who refuses to move without God's word.
Thy testimonies have I taken as a heritage for ever; for they are the rejoicing of my heart.
This verse comes from a stretch of the psalm (verses 105–112) where the writer walks a dangerous road, with traps set for him by the wicked. There he names God's testimonies as the portion he has taken for himself, and the reason his heart is glad.
A heritage is something you own for good. Older translations read "I have taken as a heritage" and "the rejoicing of my heart" — the wording the writers here follow. One of them sets a possession that holds against a feeling that comes and goes.
The word had its own power within; and the full secret of this was — he had taken God's testimonies as his portion forever. It was not a present delight which may influence the mind, and be lost in a moment; it was a divinely given estimate of the good and divine truth that was in them. So, when really held by grace, it stays and is not affected by circumstances. The terror of the enemy and his tricks make the soul cling more closely to what is of God and true from Him.
He made this choice under pressure. Notice what he refused to do, and what he then names as his whole share.
He advances further, to speak of more positive attainment. The snare of the wicked had not made him swerve from the path of divine precept. Yes, his whole portion, his chosen inheritance, was the testimonies of God. They were the rejoicing of his heart, which he had inclined to perform forever — "to the end," or thoroughly, without reserve.
"Forever" reaches past the trouble that produced the words.
The Word that guides the godly through all trial remains as his eternal heritage, even when trials are forever past. He rejoices in it; the set purpose of his heart is to walk in obedience "to the end."
Every other possession can be lost, spent, or outlived.
How precious, then, is the Word of God! Well might the psalmist say, "Your testimonies I have taken as my heritage forever." Precious heritage! Pure, incorruptible, immortal truth! How we should bless our God for making it our portion that cannot be taken away! One day all earthly things will vanish from view. The world will pass away, and the desire of it. All flesh will be consumed like withered grass. Then this portion will prove to the faithful a real, eternal, enduring substance.
The inheritance God promises His people is still ahead of them. Its description, though, is already in their hands.
All the inheritance of God's people is a future inheritance. But where do we find that inheritance described? Where do we have it spread before us in all its beauty, fertility, and perfection? In the precious Word of God. And so these Scriptures are our present inheritance, which we can enter now by faith, and already enjoy the reality unfolded to us there.
Joy is the reason the psalmist gives for making the testimonies his own. One writer pairs that joy with trembling at God's Word, and turns it into a question.
We have already seen that the Word revives us. Yes, we may rejoice in the Word "as much as in all riches"; "as one who finds great spoil"; "for they are the rejoicing of my heart" (Ps. 119:14, 162, 111). But on the other hand it is the holy Word of God that speaks with authority to our hearts and consciences. Are we "trembling" at His Word, and trying to order our lives by it? Or do we try to adjust God's Word to our behaviour when we have already drifted from it to some degree?
Commentators read this verse together with the next one. A secure portion leads to obedience with no end date.
He had accepted God's testimonies as a heritage forever. How good to have this attitude toward the truth of God! It is a heritage, the possession of the believer, forever. No wonder they were "the rejoicing of my heart." This certainty is absolute. So it is only normal that we should gladly set our hearts to obey our God forever, "to the very end" (v. 112).
- Taken — the testimonies are a portion he claimed, not a delight that fades when circumstances change.
- Under fire — he claimed them while the traps were still set. The enemy's threats drive the soul closer to what is from God.
- Forever — this heritage outlasts a world that passes away. It stays a real substance when everything else withers like grass.
- Now — the inheritance is still future, but its description is in our hands. Scripture is an estate faith can enter today.
- Therefore — a portion this secure brings joy, reverence for the Word's authority, and obedience "to the end."
I have inclined my heart to perform thy statutes for ever, unto the end.
Verse 112 closes a stretch of the psalm marked by danger, affliction, and the traps of the wicked. It ends not with a prayer for help but with a settled choice: a heart bent toward obedience, and bent that way for good.
The verse describes a settled direction of heart. What the psalmist holds as his own possession and joy now shapes the way he walks.
The word that guides the godly through all trial remains as his eternal heritage, even when trials are forever past. He rejoices in it; the set purpose of his heart is to walk in obedience "to the end."
A mood can be gone in a moment. This purpose is not, and one writer explains why.
This was not a passing delight, the kind that stirs the mind and is gone in a moment. It was a God-given sense of the good and the divine truth in God's testimonies. So, when grace truly holds it, it lasts, and circumstances do not shake it. That is why obedience became the purpose of the heart, practised day after day, as a bond that never ends.
Earlier in this same part of the psalm the psalmist swore an oath. Here the wording changes: the heart is bent and bowed. One writer sees real growth between the two verses.
We are back at verse 106, where he makes this solemn vow: "I have sworn, and I will perform…" But in verse 112 there seems to be a noticeable advance. He is not so very confident of himself, for he has learned to bow his heart before the Lord. There is no self-will or self-confidence any more. His heart and his entire being are in the hands of the Lord. As long as he remains in those hands he will be able to do the Lord's statutes. Remember, a statute is a divine direction meant to secure man's obedience! The Lord is faithful to the end.
Why "statutes" and not simply "words"? The Hebrew term carries a picture.
The term translated "statutes" comes from the word for engraving, implying that these are unchangeable words.
"To the end" sounds like a statement about time. One writer hears a second sense in it.
He goes further, and speaks of more positive progress. The trap of the wicked had not made him turn aside from the path of God's precepts. Yes, his whole portion, his chosen inheritance, was the testimonies of God. They were the joy of his heart, and he had bent his heart to obey them forever — "to the end," meaning fully, without holding anything back.
Obedience that complete could sound like slavery. The same writer answers that.
These two things, the "whole heart" and "to the end," go together naturally. Elsewhere in the psalm he says of God's commandments, "I delight in it." So there is no slavery here at all. The man whose affections drive him is the freest man there is, and so it is here.
This resolve was not formed in comfort. It was formed while his life was in danger.
So a settled purpose of heart marks his path. His affliction, and even his danger, was great. His life was constantly in his hand, but that did not change his purpose: he does not forget God's law. He was not so absorbed in the danger as to put this out of his mind. This is a blessed witness to the power of the link with God that grace gives. Where faith is at work, what a person knows of God is stronger than the strongest effect of circumstances, and stronger than any power Satan can use.
One writer applies this verse to Josiah, a king who cleansed the temple twice.
Why was the second cleansing of the temple more thorough than the first? Because the book of the law had come to light between the two, and the king now saw how vile the things were that had long been tolerated. He now had divine understanding to keep the law, and he sought to observe it with his whole heart. Josiah could have said with David: "Your testimonies are my heritage forever, for they are the joy of my heart. I incline my heart to perform your statutes forever, to the end."
- Inherited — God's word is first taken as a lasting possession and a joy. Obedience then grows out of what the heart already owns, not out of pressure.
- Inclined — The heart is bent toward God's statutes. The psalmist no longer leans on his own vow; he puts his whole being into the Lord's hands.
- Engraved — "Statutes" comes from a word for engraving. These are unchangeable words, fit for an unchanging resolve.
- Entire — "To the end" means always, and it also means fully. The whole heart is in it, and nothing is held back.
- Enduring — Danger did not change this purpose. The man whose affections drive him is the freest man alive.
SAMECH. The double-minded have I hated; but thy law do I love.
Two of the strongest words a person can use meet in this verse: hate and love. Older translations read "I hate vain thoughts," while the ESV reads "I hate the double-minded," and commentators draw value from both.
One writer weighs the two words side by side.
Notice the contrasts in this verse: Hate — Love! These are very decisive expressions. He certainly has deep convictions!
On the older reading, the hatred falls on thought itself. One commentator says the word "vain" was added and has no authority behind it.
I would ask the reader to think over Psalm 119:113 together with Psalm 139:17. In the first of those psalms the word "vain" was inserted, and there is no authority for it. Two things stand contrasted here: "thoughts" and "your law." The word of God is the opposite of those thoughts, and the writer prefers it to them.
Another writer names which thoughts are meant, and where the soul goes instead.
"I hate vain thoughts, but I love Your law" — thoughts, I suppose, of man's understanding and reasoning. But God's word he loved. So the soul turned away from man's reasonings to God.
Commentators differ here. Others take the word to describe people rather than ideas — those who never settle which side they are on.
"I hate the double-minded," begins the psalmist; "but I love Your law." His own honest heart cannot put up with people who waver. One moment they are for Jehovah, the next for Baal. They have no real conviction. When opinions clash, they follow only their own will.
Their verdict on good and evil keeps shifting. The law the psalmist loves never shifts.
Being double-minded, they will praise what is good at one time, and condemn it in the next breath. Or they condemn evil at one time, then side with it when it suits their purpose. But the believer can say at all times, "I love Your law" — the law that always loves good and hates evil.
Hating man's thoughts leaves a gap. The same writer asks what fills it, and answers from another psalm.
We will then understand the words as they stand: "I hate thoughts." But what do we have instead of our own thoughts? Psalm 139 gives the answer: "How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!" We have God's thoughts to occupy us, and it is the Word that gives them to us. They are recorded nowhere else.
This stand costs the psalmist something. One writer shows what it brings on him, and where he then turns.
In contrast to such people he loves the Word that reveals the mind of God. This hatred of man's thoughts, and love of God's Word, stirs up the hatred of man. Under that opposition, God and His Word are the soul's only resource and confidence: "You are my hiding place and my shield; I hope in your word."
Unwanted thoughts arrive uninvited. One writer separates what we cannot control from what we can.
The Psalmist could say, "I hate vain thoughts." No wonder. They really are hateful, and we should judge them, condemn them and drive them out. Someone speaking about evil thoughts said, "I cannot stop birds from flying over me, but I can stop them landing on me. In the same way, I cannot stop evil thoughts from entering my mind, but I can refuse to let them stay."
- Hate. Two decisive words carry the verse, hate and love. They show a man of deep convictions.
- Thoughts. On the older reading, "vain" was added to the text. The plain contrast is between man's thoughts and God's word.
- Divided. Read the other way, the hatred falls on the double-minded. They hold no fixed conviction and follow only their own wills.
- Replaced. The mind is not emptied but refilled: God's thoughts, recorded in His word, take the place of our own.
- Sheltered. Hating man's thoughts stirs man's hatred in return. God Himself is then the hiding place and shield.
Thou art my hiding-place and my shield I hope in thy word.
The psalmist has just refused the double-minded way of thinking. Now he names what God is to him — a shelter to run into and a shield to stand behind — and he ties both to God's word.
This verse follows a stand the psalmist has taken. One commentator traces what that stand costs, and where it drives the soul.
The believer hates the reasoning of the double-minded man — the one who wavers between two opinions. By contrast, he loves the Word that reveals the mind of God. This hatred of man's thoughts, and love of God's Word, stirs up the hatred of man. Under that opposition, God and His Word are the only resource and confidence of the soul: "You are my hiding place and my shield; I hope in your word."
The two pictures are not one idea said twice.
Dangers from the hosts of evil lurk on every side. Yet God is a perfectly safe hiding place away from the danger, or a shield in the very face of it. The believer's hope, settled and secure, is in God's Word, which is forever settled in heaven.
Hebrew has more than one word for a shield.
Another word, magen, refers to a smaller shield. This is the word that appears most often in the Old Testament, and above all in the Psalms, where it speaks of God's protection — as in Psalm 28:7, Psalm 33:20, Psalm 84:11 and Psalm 119:114.
The psalmist says "my." One writer traces that word back to what he has lived through, and to the company he has had to leave.
His own integrity of heart cannot bear the wavering of those who are for the LORD one moment and for Baal the next. Such people have no real conviction. In the clash of opinion they follow only their own wills. For himself, his heart is in the path of obedience. More than that, he knows what it is to have the LORD as his hiding place and shield — a living God making Himself known in the day of trial, so that His word becomes his confidence. His path must separate from evildoers, for he is set to keep the commandments of his God.
The second half of the verse is not an add-on. One writer shows where the soul goes once it turns from human reasoning.
The soul states its own condition. But then it looks out to see God step in according to the word, and it hopes in that. At the same time it grasps God's judgment on the disobedient… The soul turned to God, away from man's reasonings. God, and God only, is his hiding place and shield; he hopes in His word.
A shelter only shelters those who stay inside it. One writer turns the verse into a direct word to the reader.
He who is the Father's delight — the One on whom He always looks with perfect pleasure — is every believer's hiding place; He is your hiding place. There you are sheltered from every storm in this life, and there too, as behind an unbreakable shield, you are safe forever. No enemy can ever break through your sure defence. They may threaten, but can do no more. Only watch, and never wander from your hiding place. Your only security is to keep behind the shield. You have everything there.
- Refuse — the verse follows a decision. First the psalmist rejects the double-minded way of thinking. Then God becomes his one resource.
- Hide — the hiding place is shelter away from the danger, out of reach of the attack.
- Shield — magen, the smaller shield of the Psalms, is protection in the face of the danger. It guards you where you stand.
- Hope — the soul turns from human reasoning to what God has said. His word is forever settled in heaven.
- Stay — the hiding place is a Person, and it shelters only those who remain in it. Never wander from it. Never step out from behind the shield.
Depart from me, ye evil-doers; and I will observe the commandments of my God.
Trust and separation stand side by side here. The psalmist has just called God his hiding place and shield. Now he turns from God to the people around him and tells them to go. Two questions press. Why does resting in God mean sending anyone away? And why does he say "my God" when the rest of the psalm speaks of the LORD?
Verse 114 claims God as shelter. Verse 115 shows what that shelter costs. One writer ties the two verses together as cause and condition.
However, to have God for our protection demands separation from evil. So evildoers are asked to depart, for the godly man has definitely decided to walk in obedience to God.
The same movement runs through the verses around it. The soul turns from human reasoning to God, and then it turns to face people.
So the soul turns to God, away from man's reasonings. God, and God only, is his hiding place and shield; he hopes in His word. So when he turns to men he refuses evildoers, his mind is made up, he looks to be upheld to the end, and not disappointed in this hope founded on the word.
The refusal starts inside the man himself. He cannot live with a heart torn between the true God and an idol.
His own integrity of heart cannot put up with the wavering of those who at one moment are for the LORD and at another for Baal. They therefore have no real conviction. In the clash of opinions they follow only their own wills... His path necessarily separates from evildoers, for he is set to keep the commandments of his God.
The verse also changes the way God is named. One writer points to a shift that is easy to miss.
The psalmist uses the LORD's name all through the psalm with one exception, for in verse 115 he says, "Depart from me, you evildoers, that I may keep the commandments of my Elohim."
Elohim is the Hebrew word for God. Facing his enemies, the psalmist makes it personal: "my God."
That personal word "my God" is not decoration. It carries the reason the psalmist can speak so boldly, and it sets the order: closeness to God comes first, resistance follows.
"Depart from me, you evildoers," says the writer. We are able to say the same in the Name of the Lord Jesus. "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you," is the promise we can claim (James 4:7). It is not enough to hate empty thoughts. We must hate evil in every form. In this verse we find the only mention in Psalm 119 of the intimate expression "my God." He has this close fellowship with the Lord. He wants to do His will and keep His commandments. It is only as far as we give ourselves to doing His will that we shall also be able to resist evil and evildoers.
The verse sounds self-confident on its own. The verses that follow show it is not. Having made his choice, the psalmist asks God to make it stand.
He firmly tells evildoers to depart from him, for he has chosen to keep the commandments of God (v. 115). He counts on God to uphold him, for this agrees with God's Word. In this is true life, being dependent on God to keep him from being ashamed of his hope (v. 116).
What he fears is not their attack but his own failure in front of them.
As a separated man he can look with confidence to be upheld by God in the presence of evil, so that he may not be put to shame before his opposers by any failure on his part. Only as he is held by God will he be safe, and free to keep giving heed to God's statutes continually.
One writer puts this sentence in the mouth of the Lord Jesus as a boy. He shows what the words look like in a life without a single flaw.
He did not go with wicked boys to do evil. For the language of His youthful heart was, "Depart from me, you evildoers, that I may keep the commandments of my God." He never sinned Himself, but it grieved Him deeply to see boys and girls, or men and women, sinning against God.
- Shelter — Verse 114 gives the ground: God is the hiding place. Verse 115 names the price of standing there — evil must go.
- Hatred — The refusal starts inside. He first hates wavering between two loyalties; only a settled heart can send anyone away.
- Nearness — Once in the psalm he says "my God," and it is here. Fellowship with God is what puts the words in his mouth.
- Decision — "That I may keep" is a settled mind, not a mood. He chooses obedience before he speaks to the enemies.
- Support — He ends not with boasting but with prayer. He leans on God to hold him up and to keep his hope from shame.
Uphold me according to thy word, that I may live; and let me not be ashamed of my hope.
Verse 116 asks for three things: hold me up, keep me alive, and let my hope not end in shame. Each rests on something outside the man praying — he asks God to act "according to your promise," not according to anything in himself.
The cry sets the tone for the whole eight-verse section, and it looks to God's own promise for daily support:
Verses 116 and 117 carry the theme of this section of eight verses: "Uphold me," "Hold me up." The Word of God gives us the support we need day by day to live the Christian life. "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" (Isa. 41:10). What a wonderful promise for us to lay hold of! He who gives life also sustains it. We are guarded by God's power (1 Peter 1:5). If we trust in His precious Word we will never be put to shame.
Notice the words "according to your promise" (older translations say "according to your word"). He asks only for what God has already pledged. That pledge is what gives him hope:
He turns to Him knowing he depends on Him, holding the word pledged to him. That word makes him hope in it. And he asks Him that it may not leave him ashamed. He is confident that the one God upholds is secure. He would use that safety to run freely, always in the path of God's will.
Why does God bind Himself by a promise at all, when His character alone should be enough? One writer answers that our weakness is the reason:
For God has pledged Himself to His people. It has not been enough for Him to say, "You know Me, and that I cannot err or do wrong; let this be enough for you." We are too frail, too dim-sighted, too little able to foresee His ways. So this does not satisfy us, nor does it satisfy Him as to us. So divine love has pledged itself to us and made its covenant with man. And if His word is not enough, He swears as well: "so that by two unchangeable things" — "His word and His oath" — "we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us" (Heb. 6:17-18).
The man praying stands apart from evil. He does not trust his own firmness — he asks God to hold him:
(vv. 116-117) As a man set apart, he can look with confidence for God to uphold him in the presence of evil, so that no failure of his own puts him to shame before those who oppose him. Only as God holds him up will he be safe, and free to keep giving attention to God's statutes.
One writer treats this not as a one-off cry but as daily prayer, because we fail so easily:
Ah, my dear Christian reader, what are we? We are poor, failing, stumbling creatures. At every turn in our path we are likely to wander into error and evil. We are likely to leave the Rock of Ages and lean on the broken reeds of the world... We have need, deep need, to walk humbly, watchfully and prayerfully before our God. We deeply need to say David's own prayer again and again... Nothing but divine grace can keep us in a course of steady devotion. Left to ourselves, there is no extreme of evil we may not run into. They alone are safe whom God keeps in the hollow of His hand.
A believer today prays this line from a fuller position. The New Testament answers it outright:
The Psalmist says, for instance, "My flesh trembles for fear of you, and I am afraid of your judgments." The believer now is to prove that "perfect love casts out fear," and that he has confidence for the day of judgment. So again — "let me not be ashamed of my hope." The believer is taught to know that "hope does not put us to shame." In ways like these the believer now passes beyond the Psalmist. He walks in the warmer, brighter light of the New Testament, in the strength of the Holy Spirit in him.
- Uphold. The two verses share one cry — hold me up — and it carries the whole eight-verse section.
- According to His word. He asks only for what God has already pledged. That pledge, not the man praying, is what makes hope reasonable.
- Why the pledge. God bound Himself by word and oath because we are frail and dim-sighted, so we would have strong encouragement.
- That I may live. He who gives life also sustains it. Only as God holds him up is the man set apart safe and free to keep God's statutes.
- Not ashamed. The Psalmist asks that his hope may not end in shame. The New Testament turns that prayer into a settled fact — hope does not put us to shame.
Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe; and I will have respect unto thy statutes continually.
This verse is a two-line prayer, and everything in it hangs on who does the holding. It raises the question every believer meets sooner or later: can a person who loves God's word keep himself in it?
The prayer follows a decision. The writer has already told evildoers to leave him alone, so that he can keep the commandments of his God.
As a man who stands apart, he can look to God with confidence to hold him up while evil surrounds him. Then no failure of his own will shame him in front of those who oppose him. Only as God holds him is he safe, and free to keep paying attention to God's statutes.
This is not a beginner's cry. One writer ties the prayer to David and treats it as daily language for anyone who knows his own weakness.
What are we? Poor, failing, stumbling creatures. At every turn of our path we are quick to wander into error and evil. We are quick to leave God, the Rock of Ages, and lean on the world's supports, which break like reeds... We have need, deep need, to walk humbly, watchfully and prayerfully before our God — deep need to say David's own prayer again and again... Nothing but God's grace can keep us in a course of steady devotion. Left to ourselves, there is no extreme of evil we might not run into. Only those whom God keeps in the hollow of His hand are safe.
One writer sets this prayer against King Hezekiah. Recovering from illness, the king wrote down his good intentions for the rest of his life.
Look at the resolutions written in this note by a recovering Hezekiah. They are not insincere, but they are formed without any real knowledge of himself... Sadly, the whole thing rests on the "I shall" and "we will" of a sincere but self-ignorant heart. Like Peter, who boasted that he would never fail his Lord, Hezekiah has to be shown that his own "I will" is only big words. There is no "hold me up" in it, and so there is no stability.
Nor does being right about other people's errors protect a person. One writer puts it bluntly:
Being zealous against other people's errors is no protection from the devil's tricks. "Hold me up, that I may be safe."
One writer finds the picture of this in Peter walking on the water:
Peter walked on the water. Love for his Master led him out of the boat. Faith in his Master lifted him above nature. It is a picture of a Christian walking through a world where everything is against him, held up by power from above. But the great point of the lesson is this: he can only walk that way while that power supports him, and only while he depends on that support. "Hold me up," said the Psalmist, "that I may be safe" (Ps. 119:117). Peter proved it when he was desperate and prayed the prayer that is always answered on the spot: "Lord, save me."
So what happens when someone prays this? One writer answers:
We see then that God has made rich provision for His people. If He teaches us that there is no need to sin, He also shows us the secret of being kept from it. Our safety lies in Himself, and He alone is able to guard us. He never fails to answer the cry of faith. So it is as true now as in the days of the Psalmist that if we cry, "O Lord, hold us up," we shall be kept safe. And there is power available to the believer today that the Psalmist never knew.
The second half of the verse is not payment for the first. One writer points to how this psalm speaks about life itself:
Verses 17 and 117 tie life and obedience completely together. For the man of God, to live and to serve the living God are one and the same thing.
- Separated — the prayer follows a decision. A man who has taken his stand against evil asks for strength to keep standing.
- Held — safety is not something he owns. It is a hand he leans on. Only as God holds him is he safe.
- Not resolved — good intentions give no stability, and neither does zeal against other people's errors. Hezekiah's "I will" had no "hold me up" in it.
- Answered — God never fails to answer this cry. He gives believers today power the psalmist never knew.
- Continually — the one God holds keeps his eyes on God's word. For him, living and serving God are the same thing.
Thou hast set at nought all them that wander from thy statutes; for their deceit is falsehood.
The writer has just asked God to hold him up and keep him safe. Now he turns to the people who walk off God's path, and watches God sweep their scheming aside as worthless.
The two halves of the verse belong to a single thought that runs back into the previous line. One writer traces the contrast between the man who leans on God and the man who wanders off on his own:
"Hold me up," he prays, "that I may be safe." Because he depends on God's hand to hold him up, he will be safe and able to keep God's statutes continually (v. 117). Those who willingly stray from His statutes, on the other hand, can expect God to reject them. Their deceit is not only a twisting of the truth, but deliberate falsehood. God discerns the inward motives.
The ESV says their cunning "is in vain." Older translations read "their deceit is falsehood." Two different Hebrew words stand behind that line:
Psalm 119:118. She-ker (falsehood) vanity — false, in the sense of having no reality. Tar-mi-tham (their deceit) — false, in the sense of deceiving another.
So the schemer lies to others, and the lie itself is hollow. He is working with nothing.
The word "stray" might suggest an honest mistake. One writer rejects that reading, and points to the name these people get one verse later:
Notice the character of the people in this verse: they "err from Your statutes." They do not err in their minds through ignorance. They err in their hearts through obstinacy. They deliberately turn away from God. They are like those in the parable who say: "We do not want this man to reign over us" (Luke 19:14). They say: "We do not desire the knowledge of your ways" (Job 21:14). In verse 119 they are rightly called "the wicked"! "Their deceit is falsehood" is another way of saying: "Evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived" (2 Tim. 3:13).
The deceiver ends up deceived himself.
What looked like a working strategy turns out to be air. The godly man watches this happen and takes the lesson:
But he sees God's judgments on those who turned away from God's commandments. The thing by which they sought to beguile others turned out to be emptiness and vanity. Deceit is, as far as men are concerned, falsehood — what was empty and false in itself. God rejected them, and treated them as nothing, as dross.
Dross is the worthless waste that refining leaves behind. One writer applies that picture to both halves of the verse:
From his shelter he looks out and sees judgment fall on all who go astray from the path. Their slackness — "letting fall," like the string of a bow that lets you down — is falsehood. It is not failure in a man whose heart may still be right. This is how God treats them. They are not silver that still needs purifying from dross. They are dross itself and nothing else.
Seeing God deal with the false does not leave the psalmist gloating. It leaves him shaking, as the closing verse of this section shows:
(vv. 118-120) He sees that those who wander from God's statutes are "set at nothing." They come to nothing and are treated as dross in God's sight. The judgment of such people fills the soul with holy fear.
That fear is the right response, and it has somewhere to send us:
There was fear, and rightly so, at the prospect of these judgments. But the word — and even the judgment itself — encourages the heart to look up to Him from whom it came.
- Held. Read this verse next to the prayer before it. One man asks God to hold him up, and he is safe. The other walks off, and God sweeps him aside.
- Deliberate. These people do not stray by ignorance. They stray by obstinacy — in the heart, not just the mind.
- Hollow. One word means a lie told to others. The other means a lie with nothing real behind it. The deceiver ends up deceived.
- Dross. God does not treat them as silver that still needs refining. He treats them as dross and nothing else. This is not the failure of a man whose heart is right.
- Fear. This judgment fills the godly with holy fear. It sends them to the word, and up to the God whose judgment it is.
Thou puttest away all the wicked of the earth [like] dross; therefore I love thy testimonies.
Two verses earlier, the psalmist asks God to hold him up so he can keep God's statutes (v. 117). Then he looks away from himself to what God does with everyone else. He sees a whole class of people swept away like waste metal. That is what makes him say he loves God's testimonies.
The image comes from metalworking, but the point turns on what the verse does not say. It does not show God purifying a mixed lump of metal.
"Hold me up, that I may be safe," he prays. He depends on God's hand to hold him up. So he will be safe, and he will be able to keep God's statutes always (v. 117). But those who choose to stray from His statutes can expect God to reject them. Their deceit is not just a twisting of the truth. It is deliberate lying. God discerns the inward motives. He puts away all the wicked of the earth like dross. He does not just burn the dross out of the silver. There is no silver in them at all. They are all dross (v. 119).
Another writer states the same distinction and adds what the psalmist does with it:
So God treats them. They are not silver that still needs its dross purified away. They are dross itself and nothing else. The psalmist sees this judgment and agrees with it. So he holds even more tightly to the testimonies that save people from the road to destruction.
The word sounds harsh until you see who the psalm has in view. These are not people who missed the way by accident.
But notice what kind of people this verse describes: they "go astray from your statutes." They do not go wrong in their minds through ignorance. They go wrong in their hearts through stubbornness. They turn away from God on purpose. They are like the people in the story Jesus told who say, "We do not want this man to reign over us" (Luke 19:14). They say, "We do not desire the knowledge of your ways" (Job 21:14). Verse 119 rightly calls them "the wicked"!
The "therefore" is the hinge of the verse. God throws out what is worthless. That sight does not make the psalmist cold. It warms him toward God's testimonies.
But the very fact that God disposes of the dross is an added reason for the believer to love His testimonies. So the judgment of the wicked strengthens the faith of the godly. It gives a believer a healthy fear of God. He trembles as he thinks about so great a Creator, and holy fear of His judgments quiets his soul.
The psalmist is not a spectator at a distance. God holds him up in the same world where others are set aside. One writer adds that Christians stand in a different place still.
God rejected them and treated them as nothing, as dross. That encouraged the heart in God's testimonies. The heart had kept their way despite the wicked who sneered at them. But there was fear, and rightly so, at the thought of these judgments. We ourselves shall be above them. We shall be taken out of the hour of trial that is coming on all the earth. Meanwhile the word encourages us, and even the judgment does, as we look up to Him from whom it came.
Commentators differ in emphasis here: some read the verse as a coming judgment believers are kept out of, while others draw it into telling true from false today.
God once used this same language of dross about His own people. So no reader can treat the verse as a comment about outsiders only.
Today there are people who claim to be Christians while "having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power" (2 Tim. 3:5). Paul says, "Avoid such people." Of Israel it is said: "Son of man, the house of Israel has become dross to Me… Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Because you have all become dross… so I will gather you in My anger and in My wrath, and I will put you in and melt you" (Ezek. 22:18-20).
The psalmist's own response is what the reader is meant to copy:
We shall be able to discern these false spirits only when we know what the Word says. "Therefore I love your testimonies" is the positive stand the psalmist takes. We do well to follow his example!
- Dross, not ore. God is not shown refining these people. There is no silver in them at all — the whole mass is waste, and God throws it out instead of purifying it.
- Chosen, not stumbled into. They "go astray from your statutes" by stubbornness of heart, not by ignorance of mind. Their deceit is deliberate lying.
- Held, not discarded. The psalmist's own safety is not his integrity but God's hand: "Hold me up, that I may be safe" — that hand is the only thing separating him from the dross.
- Loved, not merely observed. God's dealing with the dross becomes one more reason to love His testimonies. Judgment strengthens the faith of the godly and fills the soul with holy fear.
- Warned, not exempt. God once called Israel itself dross, so the warning turns inward. Turn away from a faith that has the look of godliness but no power — and only knowing the Word lets you tell the difference.
My flesh shuddereth for fear of thee; and I am afraid of thy judgments.
A long section of Psalm 119 ends here — not in confidence, but in shaking. The writer loves God's law, yet he has just watched God sweep the wicked away like worthless waste, and the sight leaves him trembling.
The trembling has a cause. It follows what the writer has just watched God do with people who stray from the path:
From his shelter he looks out and sees judgment fall on all who stray from the path. Their slackness — "letting fall," like the loose string of a deceitful bow — is falsehood. It is not mere failure, where the heart may still be right. So God treats them not as silver that still needs purifying from dross, but as dross itself and nothing else. The psalmist sees this judgment and approves it. So he clings all the more to the testimonies that deliver from the way of destruction. Meanwhile his flesh trembles with awe at the holiness of God, and he is afraid as he takes in His righteous judgments.
This fear does not weaken faith. Watching God deal with evil strengthens it:
But the very fact that God disposes of the dross is one more reason for the believer to love His testimonies. The judgment of the wicked serves to strengthen the faith of the godly. It produces such a healthy fear of God in a saint that he trembles as he thinks about so great a Creator. The holy fear of His judgments subdues his soul.
Another commentator calls this fear right and just. He also points to a hope beyond it:
He sees God's judgments on those who walked away from God's commandments. What they used to try to fool people turned out to be empty and worthless. Deceit is, as far as men are concerned, falsehood — something vain and false in itself. God rejected them and treated them as nothing, as dross. This encouraged the heart in God's testimonies... But there was fear, and rightly so, at the prospect of these judgments. We ourselves will be above them. God will take us out of the hour of temptation that will come on all the earth. Yet the word encourages us, and even the judgment does, as we look up to Him from whom it came.
Psalm 119 is built in sections, and this one is named Samech, after a Hebrew letter. In it, love for God's law, the need to be held up, and fear of God stand together:
Samech. The psalmist rejects wavering and evil-doing as strongly as he loves Jehovah's law. He voices his need to be held up. On the other side stand Jehovah's swift dealings with the deceitful and the wicked; for He is indeed to be feared.
Commentators differ on how far a Christian should make these words his own. One draws a line between the Psalms and Christian experience:
As far as the Book of Psalms reflects the heart of a righteous Jew, the saint is now carried beyond it, or beside it. The Psalmist says, for instance, "My flesh trembles for fear of you, and I am afraid of your judgments"; the saint now is to prove that "perfect love casts out fear," and that he has "confidence for the day of judgment."
Another keeps the verse in daily use, reading its fear as the reverence a loved child has toward a father:
Believers should have a healthy fear of the Father. A child who loves his father fears the punishment he deserves when he disobeys his father's will. We also fear to grieve and sadden someone we love... The Lord helps and supports us through His precious Word. With that help we can have victory over our spiritual enemies, avoid pitfalls, and escape being deceived by false teaching. It will also keep us sensitive to His will and help us to obey Him in our daily lives.
- Dross. The trembling starts with what the writer just saw. God did not treat the wicked as silver worth refining, but as dross and nothing else.
- Awe. That sight produces a healthy fear. He trembles at the thought of so great a Creator, and God's judgments subdue his soul.
- Approval. He does not protest the judgment. He approves it, and holds tighter to the testimonies that deliver from the way of destruction.
- Support. The same section that ends in fear also asks God for support. Reverence and dependence travel together.
- Confidence. Commentators differ here. One points past the Psalmist to perfect love that casts out fear. Another keeps the verse as a child's reverence that guards obedience.
AIN. I have done judgment and justice leave me not to mine oppressors.
This part of the long psalm opens with a man who has kept to what is just and right, and who is still in the grip of people stronger than he is. Two questions follow: how can anyone point to his own record before God, and what is he asking God to do about his oppressors?
The section opens with a man hemmed in by hostile power. One writer notes how that pressure works on him — it does not drive him away from God's word but further into it.
There are three points in this section. He is fully in the presence of the power of evil. His eyes are on Jehovah Himself. The force of evil, in its moral character, only bound him more and more to God's word and testimonies. This is the effect of nearness to God. His presence keeps the heart free and confident, and keeps alive the sense of how valuable the word is.
The opening words are a statement about his own behaviour. Commentators are careful about how far that claim reaches. It frees him to pray, but it is not what he rests his case on.
Sure of his own uprightness, the psalmist can look to God with a good conscience and ask Him not to abandon him: "do not leave me to my oppressors." But even while he appeals on the ground of his own integrity, it is to God Himself that the servant looks. God is the one who must vindicate him against pride and oppression, and not his own estimate of his righteousness (compare 1 Corinthians 4:4-5).
That reference to 1 Corinthians is worth following. Paul had the same clear conscience, and it still settled nothing.
Moreover Paul had a good conscience. One translation of the opening of verse 4 reads, "For I am conscious of nothing in myself; but I am not justified by this." How good it would be if we could each speak like that. How good if we were each so true to what we have learned of the mind of God that we were not aware of anything wrong in us. Yet even a Paul had to admit that this did not justify him, for the Lord will judge him — not by what he knew, but by what He Himself knows.
The trouble is not random. He is in their hands because he has kept the path he describes in the first half of the verse.
Yet he is in fact still among the enemies of God's way, who must therefore also be the enemies of His people. He seeks deliverance from them on the ground of that very righteousness. He has himself followed it, and so he prays that God will not leave him in the hand of his oppressors.
Under that pressure he has nowhere else to turn, so he keeps praying.
The believer is still surrounded by oppressors who seek his destruction. This keeps him in prayerful dependence on the One who alone can sustain him. He has consciously sought to act in justice and righteousness, and he asks God not to leave him to the will of his oppressors... Those who are proud are always seeking to oppress the godly, so their resource is in God alone.
What he asks for is bigger than his own rescue.
So he looks for Jehovah to act, not only on His servant's behalf but in vindication of His law.
There is one more step. He asks for more than a rescue sized to his trouble.
He appeals on the ground of righteousness to God's protection... When God delivered him, his heart would be free to obey. But he looked for more than deliverance, and for more than a rescue measured by the evil he was under. His heart had reached God, and he looked for God to deal with him according to His mercy.
- Pressure. Evil close at hand does not loosen his hold on God's word. Nearness to God keeps the heart free and makes the word more precious.
- Plea. A clear conscience frees him to ask. But he looks to God to vindicate him, not to his own estimate of his righteousness.
- Proof. Paul had the same clear conscience and said it did not justify him. The Lord judges by what He knows.
- Persecutors. Enemies of God's way are enemies of His people. The righteousness he followed is what put him in their hands, so God alone is his resource.
- Purpose. He asks God to act for His servant and for His law — and, beyond rescue, to deal with him in mercy.
Be surety for thy servant for good; let not the proud oppress me.
Here a man under pressure from proud enemies asks God to stand as his guarantee. Two questions follow: what does it mean for God to be a "surety," and why does a man who has just claimed to do what is right still need one?
One writer reads the whole psalm as the inner life of a faithful few in Israel who have God's law in their hearts while the pressure is still on them:
Other psalms speak by the Spirit of Christ about the circumstances surrounding the faithful remnant, who have that Spirit. This psalm speaks of their state. The Spirit of Christ in them expresses that state: the law written in their hearts, the judgments being carried out. So something here shows the Lord stepping in — but not yet final deliverance from the oppressor.
The stanza as a whole is summed up in a single sentence that explains why the prayer sounds so urgent:
In the midst of evil, ripe for judgment, the upright soul looks to God to secure its good.
The ESV asks God for "a pledge of good"; older translations read "be surety for your servant for good." A surety is someone who guarantees another person's debt. If the deal fails, the surety pays. The same word turns up later in the New Testament:
The Psalmist asks God to be surety for him for good, Ps. 119:122; and the Lord Jesus is made surety of a better testament, or covenant, than that made with Israel. Heb. 7:22. He is the powerful One who is certain to bring about, at the right time, all that is foretold of Him in carrying out the purpose of God.
Of that better covenant, another writer shows where the risk falls:
He has become the Surety of it. That is, He has accepted full responsibility for it and has gone bail for it, so that if anything went wrong the cost would fall on Him. That is of course a full guarantee that nothing will ever go wrong with it.
The verse before this one claims a clean record: "I have done what is just and right." Yet the prayer does not rest there:
The psalmist knows he has been upright, so he can pray with a good conscience that God will not abandon him: "do not leave me to my oppressors." But though he appeals to God on the ground of his own integrity, it is God Himself he looks to for vindication against pride and oppression — not his own estimate of his righteousness (cp. 1 Cor. 4:4-5).
He asks not just for rescue but for good. One writer reads the two halves of the verse as question and answer:
Can he count on God being his surety? Yes indeed! (v. 122), and the result of this is always good. Those who are proud are always seeking to oppress the godly, so their resource is in God alone.
Where the ESV says "insolent," older translations say "the proud." One writer defines that pride by contrast with the word "servant" in the same verse:
May He, the righteous One, be surety for good to one who is His servant, and not allow the oppression of the proud, who out of pride refuse the servant's place.
The prayer reaches past one man's safety:
So he looks for Jehovah to act, not only on His servant's behalf but to vindicate His law.
Proverbs warns against standing as surety for a stranger, because the cost can ruin you. That warning is what makes Christ's act stand out:
He became surety of a better Covenant (Hebrews 7:22). Solomon, who was both wealthy and wise, in his book of Proverbs, warns against suretyship. "Whoever puts up security for a stranger will surely suffer harm" (Proverbs 11:15). Still, the Lord Jesus Christ, in His matchless grace, took up our cause — and we were the strangers. He Himself took on our liabilities and paid our debts. The sorrows and sufferings of the Cross show us the price He had to pay for our Redemption.
- Pressure. The prayer comes from a man surrounded by evil that is ripe for judgment. The Lord has begun to act, but the oppressor is still there.
- Surety. A surety accepts full responsibility. If anything goes wrong, the cost falls on him, not on the one he stands for.
- Servant. The one who asks calls himself God's servant. The proud are proud because they refuse that place.
- Good. He appeals on the ground of his integrity, yet he leaves the verdict to God. The result of God's suretyship is always good.
- Christ. Hebrews 7:22 uses the same word of Jesus. He took up the cause of strangers, took on our liabilities, and paid our debts.
Mine eyes fail for thy salvation, and for the word of thy righteousness.
Psalm 119 reaches a point where watching has worn the writer out. Proud oppressors hem him in, he holds God's word, and still nothing happens — so what does a believer do when God's promised help is slow in coming?
The psalmist prays that God will not leave him in the hands of the proud. His appeal rests on the righteousness he has followed himself.
He seeks deliverance from these enemies on the ground of that very righteousness. He has himself followed it; and so he prays not to be left in the hand of his oppressors. May He, the righteous One, stand as guarantee of good for one who is His servant. May He not allow the proud to oppress him — the proud who, in their pride, refuse the servant's place. He has God's pledged word, but His salvation lingers, and in distress his eyes fail with longing for it.
Commentators differ on what the failing eyes mean. One takes them as the strain of longing. Another reads them as the psalmist's own discernment giving out, which drives him to ask for mercy rather than strict righteousness.
He finds that his eyes are not enough to sustain him in seeking God's salvation and His righteous Word (v. 123). The eyes speak of discernment, and if we depend on our own discernment we shall indeed fail. So he needs God Himself to deal with him according to His mercy, not according to His righteousness. Yet His righteousness will always have a part in how He acts. But God's mercy is necessary if we are to be taught God's statutes.
The second half of the verse names what he is watching for: not rescue only, but God's righteous word. (Older translations read "the word of your righteousness," and that is the phrase these writers comment on.) The next verse shows the shift: he asks God to deal with him in mercy, and not to measure him by the trouble he is in.
He appeals to God for protection on the ground of righteousness. But along with this, while he waits in anxious longing for deliverance, he waits for the word of God's righteousness. That means more, I think, than faithfulness to a promised deliverance, as verse 124 shows. When delivered, his heart would be set free in obedience. But he looked for more than deliverance, and did not measure this by the evil he was under. His heart had got to God, and he looked to be dealt with according to His mercy.
The two things he waits for point in two different directions — one toward his enemies, one toward himself. And he asks for more than safety.
Having turned to God, he waits for God's Word of "righteousness" to deliver him from his enemies, and God's "mercy" to deal with himself. As God's servant he wants more than deliverance from evil. He wants to be taught the truth and to have his understanding opened, so that he may know God's testimonies and learn God's mind.
You might expect the pressure of evil to loosen a man's hold on Scripture. Here it does the opposite, and the reason is nearness to God.
He stands right in the presence of the power of evil, and he looks to Jehovah Himself. The energy of evil in its moral character only attached him more closely to God's word and testimonies. This is the effect of nearness to God. His presence keeps the heart free and confident, and keeps alive the sense of the value of what is in the word.
Delay wears the heart down. Yet the endurance that outlasts the delay comes from God, not from the man.
Still, hope is deferred. So the heart grows faint. Faith and patience face severe trial, while wickedness lifts itself up in power against Jehovah's name. But faithful endurance continues to the end, through the sustaining power of God.
- Pressure. The prayer rises from real oppression: the proud are in control, and the psalmist asks not to be left in their hands.
- Promise. He already holds God's pledged word. What he lacks is the sight of it carried out, and his eyes wear out watching.
- Weakness. His own discernment cannot sustain the watch, so he asks God to deal with him in mercy.
- Widening. He asks for more than escape — for God's righteous word, to be dealt with in mercy, and to be taught God's mind.
- Endurance. Delayed hope makes the heart faint. Yet nearness to God tightens his grip on the word, and God's power keeps him to the end.
Deal with thy servant according to thy loving-kindness, and teach me thy statutes.
Oppressors hem the psalmist in. Here he stops arguing his case and asks God for two things: mercy, and teaching. Why does a man who has just appealed to his own uprightness now ask for mercy? And why does he ask for lessons instead of rescue? Where the ESV has "steadfast love," older translations read "mercy" or "loving-kindness" — that is the word the writers below use.
The verse sits between a plea about his enemies and a plea about his own understanding. One commentator notices that he asks one thing about his enemies and another about himself:
Having turned to God, he waits for God's word of "righteousness" to deliver him from his enemies, and God's "mercy" to deal with himself. As God's servant he wants more than deliverance from evil. He wants God to teach him the truth and to open his understanding, so that he may know God's testimonies and learn God's mind.
So why ask for mercy at all? One writer follows the thought from the verse before:
He has consciously sought to act in justice and righteousness, and asks not to be left to the will of his oppressors. ... He finds that his eyes are not enough to hold him up as he looks for God's salvation and His righteous Word. The eyes speak of discernment, and if we depend on our own discernment we will certainly fail. So he needs God Himself to deal with him according to His mercy, not according to His righteousness — though His righteousness always has a part in His dealings. But God's mercy is necessary if we are to be taught God's statutes.
He does not ask as a stranger. The title he gives himself is the very reason he feels free to ask for both things at once:
He pleads the servant's place that he has taken, so that he may be dealt with in divine love, and taught His statutes. For he is His servant, and as such he needs — and may press that he needs — discernment to know the testimonies he has to maintain.
Under pressure, a man prays for the pressure to lift. What marks this verse out is that the size of what he asks is not set by the size of the trouble:
When delivered, his heart would be set free in obedience. But he looked for more than deliverance, and did not measure it by the evil he was under. His heart had got to God, and he looked to be dealt with according to His mercy.
The same writer traces how a heart arrives there:
When we are under the sorrows of God's chastening hand, we look for mercy, for deliverance. The pressure of the power of evil is felt as deserved, and deliverance from it is mercy enough. But when this has done its work, the heart is purified. It thinks more of God, and His holiness and will, and less of the sorrow and evil outside, so that it rises up from under it. A heart restored in this way measures what it asks for by God, into whose knowledge, revealed within, it has come back.
"Teach me your statutes" is a request the psalm makes again and again. One writer defines the word and names the one who answers the prayer:
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher, and through the instruments that grace uses He can teach us the will of God (John 14:26). So let us echo the psalmist's prayer to the Lord: "teach me your statutes." And let us remember what a statute is: "a divine direction to secure our obedience, and to keep us from disobedience."
Read across the whole psalm, this stretch belongs to a movement where the word is no longer only admired but is doing its work. One outline of the psalm's twenty-two sections puts it this way:
Down to No. 18, the effective working of the word is developed. And from No. 19 to No. 22 is the general survey and result.
- Mercy first. He asks God to deal with him by mercy. Righteousness is what he waits on to handle his enemies.
- Mercy teaches. Mercy is what makes the teaching possible. Without it, no one learns God's statutes.
- Mercy has a title. He asks as "your servant" — the relationship God owns is his standing to ask for both love and instruction.
- Mercy enlarges the request. A restored heart stops sizing its prayers by its troubles and starts measuring them by God.
- Mercy sets the lesson. A statute is God's direction given to secure obedience, and the Spirit is the Teacher who makes it known.
I am thy servant; give me understanding that I may know thy testimonies.
This verse holds two short asks, and the second rests on the first. The psalmist names who he is before God, then asks for what he lacks. He wants more than facts. He wants the capacity to take in what God has already said.
With the words "I am your servant" he takes a position before God — and he knows God owns him in it.
The soul has got into the place of uprightness, and it says, "I am your servant." We have not had it in this shape yet. We have had holy desire, confidence, and true confession — the general expression, "You have dealt well with your servant." But this is another thing. He presents himself to God directly as standing in this relationship and place: "I am your servant." It is perfect submission. But it is the submission of one who holds the place. God owns him in it, and he knows that He does. This is saying a great deal. What a ground to ask from God, understanding that we may serve Him!
Having taken the servant's place, he can press the need that place creates.
He pleads the servant's place that he has taken, so that he may be dealt with in divine love and taught His statutes. For he is His servant. As such he needs discernment to know the testimonies he has to maintain in a time of daring rebellion — and he may press that need.
He cannot produce this understanding himself.
"I am your servant," he says (v. 125), and because that is so, he must depend on God to give him understanding, so that he may know His testimonies.
One writer ties how much we understand to something other than mental ability:
The measure of the teaching differs greatly, because the measure of dependence upon God differs greatly. Keep this in mind: understanding Scripture depends much more on what is moral than on what is of the mind — on a single eye to Christ. The Holy Spirit can never give us anything that saves us from the need to depend on God and wait on Him.
He wants out of his troubles. But that is not the whole of what he asks.
As God's servant he wants more than deliverance from evil. He wants God to teach him the truth and open his understanding, so that he may know God's testimonies and learn God's mind.
What he wants to know is God's "testimonies" — God speaking about Himself, not human ideas about God.
Note further, they are testimonies coming from God, the positive declaration of His mind and will. They are not a boasted knowledge of God by man's will, or his claim to know what God must be… They are the positive testimonies of God, so that man is subject to them, though sustained by them. This is not man's reasoning or man's conscience. It is the testimonies of God, His own active revelation of Himself, the speaking of His word. Faith simply receives them, and the soul is subject to them as such.
Saying this to God frees a man to serve everyone, and steadies him under criticism.
It is a great stay to the soul of a man when he can look up into the face of God and say, "I am your servant." He will be ready then to serve all, even the weakest of God's people. The weaker and more ignorant they are, the more eager he will be to serve them. He will be ready to serve all men, yet be the servant of none. God reveals His thoughts and will for His servants in His word, and there alone… How it would help him to adjust his ways to the will of God whose servant he was, and not to the opinions of his self-appointed judges!
- Place first. He begins by owning the relationship: "I am your servant." He holds that place, and knows God owns him in it.
- Place gives ground. That standing is what makes the ask fitting. A servant needs discernment to know the testimonies he must maintain — and he may press that need.
- The gift is understanding. He cannot supply it himself; being God's servant, he must depend on God to give him understanding.
- The aim is God's mind. He asks for more than escape from his troubles. He wants God to open his understanding, teach him the truth, and show him His mind.
- The result is steadiness. He knows whose servant he is. So he shapes his ways by God's will, not by the opinions of his self-appointed judges.
It is time for Jehovah to work they have made void thy law.
Here the psalmist stops asking for his own rescue and turns to God's honour: men have set His law aside, so let God step in. Two questions follow — who can pray like this, and what does a believer do while he waits?
The verse before this one is the psalmist's confession that he belongs to God. A servant has no power of his own, so he hands the matter over.
He says, "I am Your servant" (v. 125). Since this is so, he must depend on God to give him understanding, so that he may know His testimonies. He cannot undo the contempt of enemies who treat God's law as void. So he says it is time for God to act. There is no doubt that God will act in this matter, but the time of acting is altogether His to decide.
Standing in that place of a servant is a new step, unlike anything the psalmist has said before.
The soul has got into the place of uprightness, and it says, "I am your servant." We have not had it in this form before. We have had holy desire, confidence and true confession — the general words, "You have dealt well with your servant." But this is another thing. He comes to God directly as one who stands in this relationship and place: "I am your servant." It is perfect submission, but the submission of one who holds that place. God owns him in it, and he knows that He does.
To say "it is time" is to judge the hour you live in. One writer calls that discernment, and it ends in assurance rather than despair.
Further the servant of the Lord discerns the time (compare Luke 12:54-59). He sees that God must uphold His own authority, and that evil is ripe for judgment. So the extreme of evil assures him that deliverance is near.
Older translations read the second line as "they have made void your law." That contempt had the opposite effect on the psalmist: the wider it spread, the tighter he held on.
The way in which the wicked have made void Jehovah's law only makes him cling the closer to it. It was time for Jehovah to work.
Two things grow together here: confidence that God will step in, and love for the word men are throwing away.
The growth of evil makes God's law exceedingly precious. The love to the law (and here this is the expression of God's will) grows with the growth of the power of evil. We feel more how precious it is, how sure it is, and how it comes from God. What makes His intervention precious against the power of evil also makes His word precious against the growth of evil itself.
The next two verses grow out of this cry. Expecting God to act does not make the believer passive; it sharpens how he values everything God has said.
The knowledge that God is about to act in judgment only makes the true soul increasingly value God's Word. He values it far above the gold that men prize so much. He sees that God's precepts about "all things" are right. He measures everything by the Word and refuses all that is false.
The same question rises whenever people who should guard Scripture treat it loosely.
Men will not have the Word of God, which is a word of grace and warning to enlighten and correct and restrain and bless them. Instead they go their own stubborn ways in defiance of His Word and will. Is it not then the time for Him to appear who will judge the world in righteousness? Others have pledged themselves by solemn oath to be the faithful guardians of His Word. When they break faith and treat it as a mixture of truth and fable, is it not the time for the Faithful and True Witness to appear?
- Servant — The prayer comes from someone who has said "I am your servant." God owns him in that place, and from there he can ask.
- Powerless — He cannot undo the contempt others show for God's law. He hands the matter to God and leaves the timing with Him.
- Discern — Saying "it is time" is discernment. God must uphold His authority, so evil at its worst signals that rescue is near.
- Precious — Love for the word grows in step with the power of evil against it. The more men throw it away, the more the believer prizes it — above gold, in every precept.
- Coming — The same cry fits any age that sets Scripture aside. It looks for the appearing of the One who will judge in righteousness.
Therefore I love thy commandments above gold, yea, above fine gold.
Verse 127 turns on one word — "Therefore." Evil is at its height and God is about to act, and the psalmist's answer is not despair but love: he prizes God's commandments above the most valuable thing people know.
One writer shows how the pressure of evil works on the heart. It produces two things at once — love for the word and firm moral judgment:
What a principle it is that God's authority must stand, so that the height of evil brings the assurance of deliverance. But it makes God's law precious beyond measure. Love for the law (and here it is the expression of God's will) grows as the power of evil grows. We feel more how precious it is, how sure it is, how it comes from God. His stepping in is precious against the power of evil. For the same reason His word is precious against the growth of evil itself. There is a double feeling here. God's commandments are loved above everything a man could treasure. And there is a firm moral judgment.
Coming judgment does not push the word into the background:
The knowledge that God is about to act in judgment only makes the true soul value God's Word more. Its value is esteemed far above the gold that man values so highly. God's precepts about "all things" are seen to be right. Everything is measured by the Word, and everything false is refused.
The psalmist reaches for gold, and then for "fine gold." A reference work explains what the word covers and why Scripture uses it as the measure of value:
The well-known precious metal. Fire purified it, and we read of "choice gold," "fine gold," and "pure gold." Precious things are compared with gold to show their value (Ps. 119:72, 127)… Because it is the most costly metal, it is treated as a symbol of what belongs to God, and as a sign of divine righteousness.
To a man of the world the comparison sounds mad. One writer points to people who acted on it anyway, at huge cost:
"Better than silver or gold." Tell this to a man of the world and he will think you're mad. Of course it is better than thousands of gold and silver. Of course it is above fine gold. It deals with eternal issues. The new Christians in Ephesus had the right idea (in Acts 19) when they destroyed unholy books — books that directly opposed God's word, the books of their sorcery. The financial cost was enormous, but that didn't matter to them; they had something better than silver or gold. Luke tells us they destroyed 50,000 drachmas' worth. A drachma was a day's wage for an ordinary working man, so that is about 150 years of pay — a huge sum.
The verse does not say he obeys the commandments; it says he loves them. One commentator traces that love to its root:
It is his utter dependence on God that moves him to love God's commandments more than all earthly riches.
This love is not reserved for exceptional people. One writer ties it to a believer's growth:
It is impossible to lay too much stress on the importance and value of the Word of God. Love for it should be a mark of every believer. It is not too much to say that our growth in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, is largely connected with it… Some of the psalmist's expressions might well humble us. They show us the place the Word held in his affections.
One writer quotes this verse as the mark that set David apart from Saul, the king God had rejected:
God rejected the wilful king — the man the people had chosen. Then the LORD brought forward the "man after His own heart." You can see in Psalm 119 how different David was from Saul… "I love your commandments above gold, above fine gold." Oh, that there were such a spirit in both the reader and the writer of these pages!
- Therefore — The verse answers the one before it. It is the reaction of a heart under the pressure of evil, not the reflection of a quiet day.
- Pressure — Love for the word grows as evil grows. What makes God's stepping in precious also makes His word precious.
- Price — Gold is the world's highest value, so Scripture uses it as the yardstick. The psalmist puts the commandments above even the refined kind.
- Measure — Love makes the word the standard. It weighs everything, and it refuses everything false.
- Proof — Such love marked the man after God's own heart. Commentators call it the ordinary mark of every believer, not a rare one.
Therefore I regard all [thy] precepts concerning all things to be right I hate every false path.
This verse ends in a verdict, and it opens with the word "therefore" — so the verdict has a reason behind it. The reason stands in the lines just before: evil had grown so strong that God had to act, and that only made His word more precious.
Coming judgment does not loosen a believer's hold on God's word. It tightens it.
The knowledge that God is about to act in judgment only makes the true soul value God's Word more. He prizes it far above the gold that men treasure. God's precepts about "all things" are right. He measures everything by the Word, and refuses all that is false.
Another writer follows the same movement and takes it further. God's commands are not only right; they mark out the whole of what is right.
Love for the law grows as the power of evil grows — and here the law means the expression of God's will. We feel more deeply how precious it is, how sure it is, how it comes from God... This is a decision of moral judgment. All God's precepts stand as absolutely right, and as the whole of what is right; and every way of empty falsehood is hated. The word alone settles good and evil.
The verdict does not pick and choose among God's commands. It takes in each one, whatever subject it happens to touch — which is why older translations read "all your precepts concerning all things."
For here all is pure — every precept, whatever it concerns; and every false way is exposed to condemnation.
If all God's precepts are right, then anything outside them is false. That leaves no middle ground — and a middle ground is exactly what we like to build, because it is comfortable.
It is either a right way because according to the word, or it is a false way to be hated. Man naturally loves to tone things down to keep his conscience quiet. God in creation "divided the light from the darkness," and morally He does so still. Man would blend them into a dim twilight; but beware of these subtle compromises.
The same writer says where to start, and how far this reaches.
It is good, at the start of your Christian life, to be fully aware of this. The word of God must be the test for everything in your path, whether in your own life or in your dealings with others.
Hating a false way does not come naturally. It is learned, day by day.
"I hate every false way." This is the result of the daily renewing of our minds by the Holy Spirit. The Spirit uses the Word of God to form our thoughts and to give us a completely new set of values. This leads us to hate the very things we loved when unconverted.
This hatred has a strict limit. Inside that limit it makes no exception — not even for age or reputation.
We are to hate what the Lord hates, not the persons, but the deeds. The Psalmist could say he hated "every false way," "vain thoughts," and "lying" (Ps. 119:104, 113, 163). Everything not according to Holy Scripture is a false way, vain, a lie and to be hated, even though it may boast of great age, as coming from the church fathers.
A verdict this complete leaves nothing outside it. So it puts a question to us: is anything held back?
But submission there must be. Absolute submission is what He rightly calls for; and it is well to search our hearts, to see if our desire and purpose are to give Him that without reserve. How blessed to be among those who with an upright heart can say, "I consider all your precepts to be right; I hate every false way"!
- Cause. When God's law is set aside all around, the godly heart values His word more, not less — above gold itself.
- Verdict. The word "therefore" marks a decision of moral judgment. The Word settles good and evil — not our own sense of things.
- Reach. The verdict covers every precept, whatever it deals with. By the same measure it exposes every false way.
- Refusal. If all God's precepts are right, whatever lies outside them is false. Beware of blending light and darkness into a comfortable twilight.
- Result. The hatred is learned, not natural. The Spirit uses the Word to give us new values, so we hate the deeds God hates — never the persons.
PE. Thy testimonies are wonderful; therefore doth my soul observe them.
The verse gives a reason before it gives a response. That raises two questions: what makes God's testimonies wonderful, and why does wonder lead a soul to obey?
The word behind "wonderful" in the original text is not a mild compliment. One writer links it to the language of God's miracles.
In the original text, this word is sometimes used of the miraculous. When Scripture speaks of God doing 'wonders' in the land of Egypt (Psalm 78:12; Ex. 15:11 — at the Red Sea) this is the word that's used. God's word is wonderful because it is completely out of the ordinary. It is miraculous. It is something to astonish us, for it is the revelation of the infinite eternal God. It is so easy to lose the wonder of it. We read it, we study it, and yet we can lose our amazement at such an extraordinary book. It is wonderful!
The psalmist could have praised the good that God's word brings him. Instead he values the word itself.
The godly man shows his appreciation of God's Word in itself, apart from the blessing that it brings. It is wonderful, and therefore he cherishes it.
The wonder is not vague. It has content — the qualities the believer meets in everything God has chosen to make known.
When David considers God's testimonies rightly, he finds them wonderful. A believing heart must wonder at the wisdom, grace, righteousness and pure truth of all that God has seen fit to reveal. And when a person sees this, his whole heart desires to keep these testimonies.
Nothing forces this obedience. The glory of God's word wins the soul over, and light and longing follow.
The testimonies of God are wonderful. By their glorious character they win the soul to obey them. Light breaks out as the Word is opened up, and by it even the simple gain the power to discern. The Word draws the heart out in longings that are not lawless, but the very opposite: "I long for Your commandments."
Here the soul does more than comply. It also weighs what the law is worth in itself.
The soul has now come to a place where it does more than obey and taste the goodness of the law. It also weighs the law's own value. There is understanding here. "Your testimonies are wonderful; therefore my soul keeps them." God's words getting into the heart give light. Even to the simple they give understanding. So the heart earnestly desires them, and the soul dwells on their excellency.
One writer applies the verse to the four Gospel accounts. Their differences are not flaws but riches.
All this is fulness and variety, not contradiction. We should have grace to admire the perfect wisdom of God in His holy writings here. The ways of the blessed Lord come to us in this variety, and all of it is perfection. Whatever path He takes before us, whatever relationship He holds, whatever affection fills His soul — though different, all is perfect. We may see Him in Jewish connection, in Matthew; or more widely among men, in Luke; as the Servant of the varied need of sinners, in Mark; or as the lone Stranger from heaven, in John. Still, all is perfection. To discern and trace this is the disciple's profit and delight.
The verse opens a new eight-verse section (Pe, verses 129–136). One writer sums up its theme as the power of God's word itself.
Pe. Here we see the real power that belongs to the Lord's revelation itself, and the spiritual desire it creates.
Another writer traces the section from wonder outward to grief over those who turn from God's law.
PE. Verses 129–136. The testimonies of the Lord, so wonderful in the eyes of the saints, gave them light and understanding. Their desires were for the Lord and His words. They wanted His favour, steady steps, and rescue from the wrongdoing and oppression of men. They longed for the face of the Lord to shine on them, and they had great sorrow as they watched the disobedience of those who turned from His law.
- Wonder — "wonderful" is the word used of God's miracles in Egypt. His word is meant to astonish us, and familiarity dulls that astonishment.
- Worth — the godly man prizes God's word in itself, apart from any blessing it brings.
- Reason — the wonder has content: wisdom, grace, righteousness and pure truth in all that God has revealed.
- Therefore — the testimonies win obedience by their own glorious character, and they draw the heart out in longing.
- Keeping — the soul that wonders obeys the word and weighs its value. That is obedience with understanding.
The entrance of thy words giveth light, giving understanding unto the simple.
Psalm 119:130 makes a startling claim about a book: God's word does not just inform, it gives light. Two questions follow — what happens when that word is unfolded, and who are "the simple" who receive the understanding?
The older English word hides a simpler picture. Commentators point out that the Hebrew is better rendered "opening" — the word being unfolded, and light coming out as it opens.
"The opening [rather than entrance] of Your word gives light: it gives understanding to the simple" (Ps. 119:130). This was the Psalmist's experience, as he pondered over God's testimonies, which to him were wonderful. It will ever be the same with those subject to the teaching of the divine Word.
The result of that opening is not only knowledge but a trained ability to tell things apart.
Wonderful are the testimonies of God, which by their glorious character win the soul to their obedience. Light breaks out as the Word is opened up; and even the simple acquire by it the faculty of discernment.
This verse describes how spiritual life begins. Before the word enters, there is nothing to see by — and when it enters, the first thing it shows is the darkness itself.
Light is directly connected with eternal life. We have already seen that when the truth of God first reached us, it came as light showing us our darkness... If we bring a candle into a large dark room, the light proves its own presence and reveals the darkness too. The first work of God in the soul is by His word, "Let there be light." The entrance of God's word gives light, teaching who He is.
Writers connect this to the opening of Genesis, where the Spirit broods over the waters and God speaks light into being — the same two agents at work in new birth.
Then mark how the new birth begins: "The Spirit of God moved [or brooded] upon the face of the waters. And God said, 'Let there be light.'" From the Spirit and the Word it comes: we are "born of the Spirit;" we are "born of the incorruptible seed" of "the Word of God." And "the entrance of Your Word gives light."
"Simple" is not a compliment paid to ignorance. Commentators read it as an undivided heart — a person without folds or hidden agendas.
The common idea of "simple" is "weak-minded" and ignorant, but the Word of God puts no premium on ignorance or sloth. How often the apostle urges his readers, "I do not want you to be ignorant!" The scriptural idea of simplicity is a "one-folded" moral texture. The honest man is the one who has spiritual light from the Word of God, and so is guided right. The Word penetrates deep into the hidden places of the heart and reveals perfect grace.
The contrast is not between educated and uneducated. It is between two ways of coming to God's word.
Marvellous too is the light that comes from the entrance of God's words (v. 130). The "wise and prudent" do not see it, but "the simple" understand it. This speaks of the simplicity of faith in contrast to the duplicity of mere human reasoning.
If light is what the word gives, then no brighter lamp exists to inspect it by.
As for proofs of the word's authority, the word carries its own proof with it, as does every testimony from God. This is a basic principle. It does not need proof; it supplies the soul with proof of everything. We do not carry a lamp to the sun to see it; the sun lights us. The word of God is not judged; it judges.
Where difficulties in Scripture are felt, the fault is located somewhere other than in the text.
The Word of God is always in itself not only right, but full of light. It makes wise the simple; it enlightens the eyes... For objections against Scripture are always the creation of unbelief. Difficulties, where they exist for us, would only exercise faith in God.
The verse has a public and historical edge. If light comes in as the word opens, then closing the book has a predictable effect — one writer traces it through the centuries when the Bible was available only in a language almost nobody read.
Then evil flourished because the Bible was a hidden book and its light did not shine out abroad... When the Word of God shines out, it gives light which dispels the darkness and evil. When it is withheld, evil flourishes.
- Opening. As God's word is unfolded, light comes out of it — and the reader gains the power to discern.
- Light. That same opening starts spiritual life. The word entering a dark soul is God saying "Let there be light," and the first thing it shows is the darkness.
- Simple. God gives this light not to the clever but to the undivided heart. Simplicity here means an honest, one-folded heart: the faith that receives, not the reasoning that argues.
- Proof. You cannot check light by another light. The word supplies its own proof, and objections come from unbelief, not from the text.
- Result. Where the word is opened, darkness retreats. Where it is kept shut, evil flourishes. So the cure for ignorance is to open the book.
I opened my mouth wide and panted; for I longed for thy commandments.
Verse 130 says God's words give light as they enter. This verse shows what that light produces: hunger — an open mouth, short breath, and a longing aimed at God's commands.
The picture is a body gasping for air. One writer ties it to verse 130 and reads the gasping as hunger for food.
The light that comes when God's words enter is marvellous too (v. 130). The "wise and prudent" do not see it, but "the simple" understand it. This speaks of the simplicity of faith, in contrast to the double-dealing of mere human reasoning. "I open my mouth and pant" — that is, he longed for his mouth to be filled with the precious food of the Word of God. He longed so deeply that he all but panted with desire for it. God's commandments were the object of his deep longing (v. 131).
The order matters. The thirst is not where the psalmist begins. It is what the word has already done in him.
There is also what the Word does: it gives light and understanding — light, where it enters, and understanding where there is simplicity. It also creates a thirst and longing. Only the mercy of God can meet that thirst, as He fulfils His Word and does what He always does for those who love His Name.
Strong desire is not always good desire. What the longing reaches for settles the question.
The testimonies of God are wonderful. Their glorious character wins the soul over to obey them. Light breaks out as the Word opens, and even the simple gain from it the power to discern. The heart is drawn out in longings which are not lawless, but the very contrary: "I long for your commandments."
The same writer draws out what this says about the word as a teacher.
So the Word as a teacher makes no monsters. It does not train the mind and leave the heart and conscience untouched. The whole person grows, with every part in beautiful harmony with the rest.
Saul was the king the people chose; David was the king God chose. One writer uses this verse to show what the difference looked like.
God rejected the wilful King — the man the people chose — and brought forward the "man after His own heart." You can see how different David was from Saul in Psalm 119, which expands Psalm 19 and is almost certainly from the pen of David: "I find my delight in your commandments, which I love" (Ps. 119:47). "I love your commandments above gold, above fine gold" (Ps. 119:127). "I open my mouth and pant, because I long for your commandments" (Ps. 119:131). Oh, that there were such a spirit in both the reader and the writer of these pages!
One writer puts this cry in the mouth of the Son of God on earth. He could have met His own need for light, and would not.
He could have poured a flood of light into His human understanding, so that He never cried, "I long for your commandments." Yet He did not. He could have turned the stone into bread when He was hungry, for He had the power to do it (Matt. 4; Luke 4). Yet He did not. It would not have been the path of obedience; He had no command to do so from God. This was one part of the trial of the Son of God, this continual subjection of will, although it was a holy will.
One writer names two opposite errors in handling Scripture: keeping it from people, and using it with an unsteady hand.
May we hold it fast, but use it skilfully in the light of the Holy Spirit in us! There is the error of taking away this key of knowledge (Luke 11). There is also the error of using it with an untaught, unstable hand (2 Peter 3). Let us use it with the reverent and worshipping mind of the servant of God in this beautiful and most precious Psalm. Let us know something of the burning of his heart over the holy words of God, as he says, "I open my mouth and pant, because I long for your commandments."
A simpler test is offered elsewhere, and it runs in one direction only:
Let us test our measure of thirst by the eager spiritual tenacity of the language of Psalm 119.
- Light — God's word gives light and understanding as it enters. The longing in this verse starts there.
- Thirst — that light creates a longing. Only God's mercy, keeping His own word, can meet it.
- Appetite — the panting is hunger. He wants his mouth filled with the word as with food, and he gasps for it.
- Aim — the longing runs toward God's commands, not away from them. So the word trains mind, heart and conscience together.
- Pattern — this craving set David apart from Saul. One writer hears it on the lips of Christ, who kept the place of obedience when He had power to leave it.
Turn unto me, and be gracious unto me, as thou art wont to do unto those that love thy name.
This short prayer asks God to turn toward the psalmist and show him mercy. The reason he gives is not his own record, but the way God always treats those who love His name.
Older translations begin the verse "Look upon me, and be merciful to me", and the writers quoted here use that older wording. Isaiah once prayed the opposite: "Look away from me." One writer sets the two prayers side by side and shows why both are right.
"Look upon me" (v. 132). This seems a contradiction of Isaiah's prayer, "Look away from me" (Isa. 22:4), but each of these cases considers the matter from a different viewpoint. Isaiah was thinking about the fact that he was sinful by nature. So he did not expect the Lord even to want to look at him. He wanted God to look instead on the face of God's Anointed (Ps. 84:9). But in our verse the psalmist wanted the Lord to look on him in his need, and to show mercy to His suffering servant. This was, and is, God's custom toward those who love His name.
Another writer shows what one look from Christ can do.
Christ heals with more ease than any other. Christ makes the devil go out with a word (Mark 9:25). More than that, He can cure with a look: Christ's look melted Peter into repentance; it was a healing look. If Christ only casts a look upon the soul He can recover it. That is why David prays to have a look from God, "Look upon me, and be merciful to me" (Ps. 119:132).
Read verses 130 to 132 together. This prayer grows out of what God's word had already done in the man praying.
(vv. 130-132) There is also what the Word does. It gives light and understanding — light where it enters, and understanding where there is simplicity. It also creates a thirst and longing. Only the mercy of God can meet that thirst, as He makes good His Word and does what He always does for those who love His Name.
Another writer traces the same line, and then says what God's name means.
The soul worked on in this way becomes a seeker after God. Such a soul grasps the constant grace God shows to all who love His name — that is, God making Himself known; for that is what His name is.
Behind "as is your way" stands the Hebrew word mishpat, usually translated "judgment". In this psalm that word often stands for God's word itself. Commentators differ over how much it carries here. One reader held that it only describes how God behaves:
Mish-paht is translated "judgment" in the Hebrew concordance. But in verse 132 it can hardly be a term for the Word. It is a description of a particular attitude taken towards someone. The King James Version has in the margin "according to the custom toward", and this is the meaning of the word in verse 132. It describes the way God acts towards someone.
Another writer in the same magazine replied that the poet chose the word on purpose, and that it keeps its fuller sense:
About verse 132, the break from the pattern may not be as clear as it first looks. It is true that mishpat here lacks the ending that means "Your"… But "Your" may be understood here, carried over from the "Your" attached to "Your Name", which would then be doing double duty. And there is no need to doubt that the poet chose the word mishpat as part of his usual plan. He will have been thinking of "judgment" in the sense of a gracious decision and promise spoken by the Lord.
One study of the psalm's vocabulary explains why these words stretch so far.
All the words this psalm uses for the Lord's Word can carry a wide and flexible meaning. The poet never says which "law" or "word" he has in mind, and he never mentions any detail of a "law"… So the weight falls on communion with God. A great flow of references to His gracious Word keeps that communion alive, in praise and in pleading.
- Light. God's word enters the heart and gives light and understanding.
- Thirst. That light creates a longing the word alone cannot satisfy. Only God's mercy meets it, as He makes good His own word.
- The look. One look from Christ melted Peter and recovered him. The psalmist asks God for that same look.
- The ground. He does not plead his own record. He pleads the way God always acts toward those who love His name. One writer calls it constant grace; another hears a gracious decision God has already spoken.
- The name. God's name is God making Himself known. To love His name, then, is to want His face turned toward you.
Establish my steps in thy word; and let not any iniquity have dominion over me.
This verse holds two prayers that belong together. One asks God to steady the steps by His word; the other asks that no sin ever take charge of the person praying.
The ESV says "according to your promise"; older translations read "in your word," and that is the wording these writers follow. The psalm has already called God's word a lamp, and one writer sets the two verses side by side:
God's word does more than condemn us when we take a wrong turn. It also shows us the right way. "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path," the Psalmist sings. Like him, we should want our steps ordered in His word.
The prayer assumes that something always rules a person's steps. The only question is what:
First, as to himself, the godly man wants the truth to govern his steps, not sin, as it does in the natural man.
The prayer covers any iniquity, with no sin left out. That width is itself a test of sincerity:
A false heart may seem very eager in praying against one sin, yet skip over another. A hypocrite will go easy on one lust and rage against another. A sincere Christian hates all sin.
"Dominion" is not about how much sin is present. It is about who is in charge. One writer, treating the same word elsewhere in Scripture, puts it in terms of ownership:
Sin is a master, a slave-owner, and we had fallen under its power. The point discussed in the chapter is not the presence of sin in us but the power of sin over us.
Read that way, the second half of the verse does not ask for sin to vanish from us. It asks that sin never own us.
The two halves of the verse name two ways to live. One writer contrasts them, and points out which one is really freedom:
Such a person knows the liberty of walking in God's ways. He also knows the miserable bondage that follows when any iniquity has dominion over him.
The verse does not just set two wishes side by side. The first prayer is the means of the second:
He also asks that God would direct his steps by His Word. Every believer needs this, whether we realise it or not. If this positive blessing is ours, the negative influence of iniquity will have no dominion over us.
Why should a prayer for light lead straight to a prayer about conduct? One writer answers by describing the kind of teacher the word is:
So the Word as a teacher makes no monsters. It does not train the mind and leave the heart and conscience untouched. Instead the whole person grows, with every part in beautiful proportion to the rest.
- Light — the word does not stop at the mind. Teaching that grows the intellect and leaves the heart untouched is not what Scripture produces.
- Step — the prayer asks God to direct each step by His word. The lamp of this psalm lights the next move.
- Rule — something always governs a walk. The prayer is that truth govern it, not sin, which rules the natural man.
- All — the prayer covers any iniquity. A false heart attacks one sin and spares another; a sincere heart hates them all.
- Liberty — walking in God's ways is freedom, and sin's dominion is misery. Answer the first prayer and the second follows.
Deliver me from the oppression of man; and I will keep thy precepts.
The word "redeem" can mislead a reader who knows it as a word for forgiveness. Here it points somewhere else. One commentator marks the difference:
This is not redemption from the guilt of his own sins. Every believer today already has that blessing. It is the practical freedom from the oppression that men deliberately try to impose on believers.
So the pressure comes from people. It is the weight other men place on someone trying to live by God's word.
He does not ask for freedom for its own sake. The second half of the verse gives the reason. One writer groups this prayer with the psalmist's outward circumstances:
Second, as to his circumstances, he desires that he may be delivered from the oppression of man, in order to obey God.
Notice what this rules out. He is not asking for an easier life, a quieter life, or revenge on his oppressors. He wants the hindrance removed so that obedience can go forward.
Read verse 134 beside the verse before it and a pattern appears. Sin can rule a person from the inside; men can hold him down from the outside. Both are bondage, and both have to be broken:
Such a person realises the liberty of walking in God's ways, and the miserable bondage that comes when any iniquity has dominion over him. He seeks to be free from man too, so that he can keep the divine precepts.
The order matters. The psalmist names the inner chain first. A man free from every human oppressor would still be a slave if sin ruled him.
The prayer against sin's dominion is not a bare wish for willpower. It is joined to a request for direction, and the direction is what does the work:
He also asks God to direct his steps by His Word. Every believer needs this too, whether we realise it or not. If we have this positive blessing, the negative influence of iniquity will have no dominion over us.
Guidance is the cure for domination inside. Verse 134 then asks God to break the outward chain too.
Verse 134 belongs to a group of eight verses, and the group has a shape. It starts with light and ends with sorrow:
The testimonies of the Lord, so wonderful in the eyes of the saints, gave them light and understanding. They longed for Jehovah and His words. They wanted His favour, they wanted their steps made firm, and they wanted Him to deliver them from the iniquity and oppression of men. They longed for the face of the Lord to shine on them. It gave them great sorrow to see the disobedience of those who turned from His law.
Another writer describes the same stretch of the psalm in terms of where the speaker is standing while he prays:
Here the cry is for this mercy ordering his steps, delivering from oppression; and one sees that he is surrounded by evil, looking for God's face to shine on him, and to be taught.
Commentators read Psalm 119 as more than one man's diary. Several hear the voice of a faithful group in Israel in a time of trouble. God's law is already written on their hearts, but their rescue has not yet arrived:
Other psalms bear witness, by the Spirit of Christ, to the circumstances around this faithful group, who have that Spirit. This psalm speaks of their state… the law written in their hearts, while the judgments are being carried out. So something already shows that the Lord is stepping in, and they say what they feel about it — but the final deliverance from the oppressor has not come. In strict prophetic application, this is the condition of a Jew, a godly Jew, in that day.
That explains the tone of the verse. Someone whose deliverance was complete would not need to pray this. Someone with no love for God's precepts would not want to.
- Light — the section opens with God's word giving light and understanding. Every prayer in it, this one included, grows out of that light.
- Two chains — sin's rule inside, men's oppression outside. The psalmist asks God to break both, the inner one first.
- Not guilt — the redemption he seeks is practical freedom from what men impose, not release from the guilt of his own sins.
- Freedom for — he wants the outward hindrance gone so that he can obey. Deliverance is the means; keeping God's precepts is the goal.
- Not yet — someone prays this while the oppressor is still in place. God's law is already in his heart; full deliverance is still ahead.
Make thy face to shine upon thy servant, and teach me thy statutes.
This verse falls in the section of Psalm 119 marked by the Hebrew letter Pe. God's word has already given the writer light. Now he asks two things: that God's face would turn toward him, and that God would teach him.
The verse belongs to a group of eight, moving from wonder at God's word to grief over those who ignore it:
PE. Verses 129-136. The testimonies of the Lord, so wonderful in the eyes of the saints, gave them light and understanding. They desired Jehovah and His words. They wanted to receive His favour, to walk with steady steps, and to be free from the sin and oppression of men. They longed for the face of the Lord to shine upon them, and they grieved deeply when they saw the disobedience of those who turned from His law.
He does not pray from a comfortable place:
Here the cry is for mercy to order his steps and free him from oppression. He is surrounded by evil. He looks for God's face to shine upon him, and to be taught. He grieves deeply because people do not keep the law.
The verses just before ask for steady steps and rescue from oppressors. This one turns to God Himself:
Third, as to God, he desires to sit as a learner at His feet in the conscious sunshine of His favour (compare Luke 10:39).
The two halves of the verse are not separate wishes. Nearness to God is where the teaching happens — and where sin looks its ugliest:
Above all, he seeks to walk in the sunshine of God's face, as one brought near, and there to be taught His statutes. There he feels the awful horror of sin, and there he longs over men who do not know how ugly it is: "My eyes shed streams of tears, because people do not keep your law."
One writer points to Christ as the shining of God's face, and looks ahead to Israel as well:
"Make Your face shine upon Your servant" (v. 135). This is what God has done in sending the Lord Jesus to this world. 2 Corinthians 4:6 tells us, "For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." Israel will recognise this when grace breaks the nation down in true repentance to receive their blessed Messiah. Then they will indeed have a heart to learn God's statutes.
What is a statute? One writer defines it, and names the Teacher believers now have:
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher and through these instruments which grace employs, He can teach us the will of God (John 14:26). So let us echo the psalmist's prayer to the Lord: "…teach me Your statutes". And remember what a statute means: "a divine direction to obtain our obedience, and to keep us from disobedience".
If God's favour is already settled, why ask for it?
Encouraged to seek the face of the Lord, he prays that the Lord will not hide His face. He asks to 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.
Yet the favour itself is not fragile. One writer records this exchange:
"God never withdraws the shining of His countenance from a true believer, for all believers are in Christ, and God cannot withdraw the light of His countenance from Christ." "Ah," replied the other, "but I turn my back upon Him." "Then," came the quick reply, "God will shine upon your back."
- Light first. The word has already entered and given understanding; verse 135 is what a person asks after the light gets in.
- Face before lesson. The shining face is the sunshine of God's favour, and the psalmist's aim is to sit as a learner in it.
- Nearness teaches. Close to God is where the statutes sink in, and where sin becomes unbearable.
- Christ is the shining. God has answered this prayer by giving the light of the knowledge of His glory in the face of Jesus Christ.
- Ask for the sense of it. Acceptance is settled for those in Christ. The daily prayer is to walk in the conscious enjoyment of it.
Mine eyes run down with streams of water, because they keep not thy law.
After more than a hundred verses in praise of God's word, this psalm breaks into tears. The writer weeps over other people's disregard for God's law — so why should love for Scripture end in weeping?
One writer reads these tears as the outcome of God's word finding a way into the heart.
Where the light finds a way in, the believer longs for a state that matches everything the light reveals.
Tears are what that desire looks like when the world around refuses the light.
The sorrow here is not hurt feelings. It is pain at seeing God's word treated as nothing. One writer traces that same pain in a country that has left the standards its laws once rested on.
The psalmist is hurt and deeply grieved. He weeps because he sees people ignoring God's word. He has the deepest respect for God's honour. One of the saddest trends in society today is the steady abandoning of God's standards as given in His word. This country was once thought of as a Christian country, and much of its law was once based on biblical standards. Now we are a long way down the road of holding norms that are opposed to Scripture. This rejection of God's standards grieves those who truly love the Lord.
Nobody weeps like this by nature. One writer notes the order in which such tears come. God's grace saves us first, and only then does the unbelief of others become unbearable.
They will also be so moved that "streams of tears" will run down from their eyes as they consider that people do not keep God's law (v. 136). But only after God's grace saves us does the sadness of people's unbelief, too deep for words, grieve us like this. We have every reason to mourn over the unbelief of countless thousands. They refuse to bow to the authority of the gracious Lord of glory!
One writer hears the psalmist's words again in the tears of the Lord Jesus over Jerusalem. He hears them earlier too, in servants who grieved over their people's sin.
He wept aloud over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41-44). That weeping expressed the spirit of the psalmist who said, "My eyes shed streams of tears, because people do not keep your law" (Ps. 119:136). In an earlier day of turning away, the faithful servants of the Lord stood out by their grief over the waywardness of their people. They were set apart as those "who sigh and groan over all the abominations" committed in Jerusalem (Ezek. 9:4).
There is a counterfeit of this verse: looking down on the sin of others from a safe height. One writer points to three men who mourned over their people's failure. He shows what kept their grief honest.
We find such mourning in the Old Testament with Nehemiah, who asked the king how his face could be anything but sad while the city of his fathers lay in ruins (Nehemiah 2:3). Daniel and Ezra also mourned over the unfaithfulness of God's people (see Daniel 9 and Ezra 9-10). We can learn from what these men of God did. Given the age they lived in, none of these men was personally responsible. They were not self-righteous and did not think of themselves as above their people. They confessed their people's sin and included themselves in their guilt. They understood that they themselves were no better and that they formed part of this people. That is why God owned them and answered them.
Such weeping is right, but it is not meant to swallow a believer whole. One writer sets a limit to this sorrow. He points to two men who wept and still found relief.
For now, they weep over the corruption around them, and such tears are the fruit of a godly mind. Yet such sorrow is to have its measure... Jesus wept over the unbelieving cities, but He found relief in the Father's purposes. Paul grieved over people who abandoned the faith, but he found relief in the sureness of God's foundations.
- Light — God's word entering the soul creates a longing for everything to match what that light reveals. Tears come when that longing meets refusal.
- Love — the writer weeps for God's honour, because people ignore His word, not because anyone has wronged him.
- Grace — this sorrow is not natural; it comes only after we taste God's mercy.
- Christ — the Lord wept over Jerusalem in this same spirit, as did the servants before Him who sighed over their people's sin.
- Measure — real mourners confess their people's guilt as their own instead of standing above it. They find relief in God, so grief does not drown them.
TZADE. Righteous art thou, Jehovah, and upright are thy judgments.
This section of Psalm 119 opens with a verdict about God, not a complaint about people. The man who says it is watching those around him ignore God's word. Everything that follows in the section — the zeal, the smallness, the trouble — rests on this one statement about who the LORD is.
He names God's character before he names his trouble. That order gives him somewhere to stand.
In this section the psalmist feels the pain of the trial that comes from outside. Yet he begins with the firm confidence that the Lord is righteous. That is a real contrast to his enemies, and so it gives him a precious basis for appealing to Him. His judgments are upright, not swayed by change to the right hand or to the left. His testimonies, given as commands to be obeyed, are righteous and very faithful. What an anchor for the soul!
Where the ESV says "rules," older translations say "judgments." Both point to the same thing.
The righteousness of God's law, and the key it gives to God's ways, leads us to recognise what Jehovah is, who gave it. His judgments are the way Jehovah deals with a case — the moral decision He utters about it. His testimonies He had commanded according to righteousness and faithfulness. This is what marked them.
The two halves of the verse are one thought, not two.
Jehovah's word is what Jehovah is: if He is righteous, so are His judgments. And so are His testimonies too, of whatever kind. He cannot be anything but a faithful witness, in whatever matter it has pleased Him to give any testimony.
God's word stands out against the way people speak.
The psalmist recognises that God is righteous and that all His judgments agree with what He is. His testimonies are the witness of Himself and His ways. They are according to righteousness, and very faithful. Man's testimonies are the opposite: too often people give them only to deceive.
This is not calm theology written in comfort. The psalmist speaks it while people all around him are dropping God's word.
Here we have the trial of spirit that comes from the defection all around. With it goes that lasting sense of how precious the Word itself is. That sense is what makes the defection so full of anguish.
Saying God is righteous, where people ignore Him, has a cost. It puts a person at odds with the crowd. It also does not make him look impressive.
The God-fearing man recognises that God is righteous and that His testimonies are faithful. That brings him into conflict with those who forget God's words. His earnest zeal against evil was not simply hatred of evil, but love of the truth... Even so, the one who is zealous for the Word in a scene of evil will be insignificant and despised in the eyes of the world.
God's upright way of judging is also a standard. We are meant to be learning it now.
The judgments of His righteousness are the decisions He makes about right and wrong. They express and carry out the righteous character of God. We have much to learn about His "judgments". We must learn that He always judges in righteousness. He never judges on a whim, and never with prejudice, as men do. We must learn now on earth from Him how to judge as He judges.
The section ends where it started. That is the comfort: what people oppose now will still stand when the opposition is gone.
He knows the truth will prevail, and that God's righteousness lasts for ever. Enemies may surround him. Trouble and anguish may take hold of him. But trial and sorrow will pass away, while the righteousness of God's testimonies will remain.
- Ground. The psalmist starts with God's righteousness, not his own pain. That contrast with his enemies is his basis for appealing to God.
- Rulings. "Judgments" are God's decisions on a case. They never swing to the right or left, and never carry the prejudice that human judging carries.
- Match. God's word carries God's character. If He is righteous, so are His judgments and His testimonies. He cannot be an unfaithful witness.
- Cost. Saying this where people forget God's words brings conflict. It makes a person look small and despised in the world's eyes.
- Outcome. Trial and anguish pass. The righteousness of God's testimonies stays. That is why a person can make this confession while everything around him falls apart.
Thou hast commanded thy testimonies in righteousness and exceeding faithfulness.
Just before this verse the psalmist calls the LORD Himself righteous. Verse 138 turns that same word onto what God has said: His testimonies carry His own two marks — righteousness and faithfulness — and the psalmist holds to them while the world around him scorns them.
Why trust God's word? One writer points past the word to the One who spoke it:
The LORD's word is what the LORD is: if He is righteous, so are His judgments. The same holds for His testimonies, of every kind. He can only be a faithful witness, whatever He has chosen to testify about.
A testimony is what a witness says. Set God's testimonies beside the testimony people give, and the contrast is sharp:
The psalmist recognises that God is righteous and all His judgments are in keeping with Himself. His testimonies — the witness of Himself and His ways — are according to righteousness, and very faithful. Man's testimonies stand in contrast: too often people give them only to deceive.
These testimonies also put a demand on the reader. And that demand comes in a set order:
Remember what we said about this word "testimonies"? It testifies what God is, and it also shows me what I ought to be. Before we can "keep" His testimonies, we must first have received them, accepted them, and be willing to obey.
Some older translations read "exceeding faithfulness" here, which is why several writers call these testimonies "very faithful." The Hebrew word behind the phrase belongs to the same family as "faith" itself:
aman... In both the Old Testament and the New Testament, this word comes from the same root as "faith." It means being true to yourself, to your own nature, to any promise you have given, and to any trust placed in you... The commandments and testimonies of God are called faithful.
That has a plain consequence for anyone holding a Bible:
You can depend on God's word. We have the sayings of a God who cannot lie; the promises in them are faithfully performed by Him who made them; they are all "yes and amen" in Christ.
The psalmist writes this under attack. His confidence in God's righteousness is what gives him ground to pray at all:
In this section the psalmist feels the pain of trial coming from outside. Even so, he begins with firm confidence that the Lord is righteous. That is a real contrast to his enemies, and so a precious basis for appealing to Him. His judgments are upright, not influenced by change, whether to the right hand or to the left. His testimonies, given as commands to be obeyed, are righteous and very faithful. Wonderful anchor for the soul!
Notice the small phrase there: God gives His testimonies as commands. He does not offer them for discussion — He appoints them.
Holding this view of God's word does not leave a person passive. It stirs zeal, and it gives courage:
God's law is righteous, and it gives the key to God's ways. So it leads us to recognise what the LORD is who gave it... His testimonies He had commanded according to righteousness and faithfulness. This characterised them. People despised the LORD's words, and that stirred up a zeal in him that consumed him... And it gives greatness and courage to the heart. One may be small and despised, yet one still has the courage to keep God's precepts, despite the power of the world or its scorn.
- Source. God's word carries the character of its Author. He is righteous, so His judgments and testimonies are righteous too. He can only be a faithful witness.
- Witness. His testimonies are His witness to Himself and His ways. People often testify to deceive; God never does.
- Faithful. The word for "faithful" shares a root with "faith." It means being true to your own nature, to a promise, to a trust.
- Dependable. God cannot lie, so He keeps every promise He makes. They are all yes and amen in Christ.
- Anchor. This confidence gives you ground to pray under attack. It gives courage to keep His precepts, even when you are small and despised.
My zeal destroyeth me, because mine oppressors have forgotten thy words.
Just before this, the writer of Psalm 119 has owned that God's judgments are right and His testimonies faithful. Now he turns to enemies who have let those words drop out of mind, and the sight burns in him like fire.
Zeal takes its strength from its object. Even a weak zeal flares up when what it loves is attacked.
However feeble our zeal may be, when the object of that zeal is the Lord Jesus, it kindles a consuming fire in the soul, particularly when there are enemies to contest the truth of God's words. For to the believer God's Word is very pure, with not the slightest impurity mixed into it, and it is the very nature of one born again to love that Word.
The psalmist does not say that his enemies have wronged him. He says they have forgotten God's words. One writer shows how fully that cause takes him over, and where it puts him.
Here, as he thinks of it, the psalmist's zeal breaks out. It consumes him as the altar-flame consumes the sacrifice. So it was with Christ in the temple. There He flames out in a testimony against the evil, and that puts Him in opposition to the leaders of the people, who were one with the wickedness then in power. It is not that these men are only the psalmist's personal foes. They are foes "because my foes forget Your words."
Another writer sets out the same two steps in order. First the psalmist sees that God is righteous. Then the scorn shown to His words sets his heart alight.
The contempt shown to Jehovah's words had roused zeal until it consumed him. He became like an earnest adversary, clashing with evil that was still in power, as Christ did in the temple.
Both writers pointed to Christ in the temple. Another writer tells what happened there, and what such zeal cost Him.
He goes into the temple, which for Him is His Father's house. But He finds it defiled by men who claim to care for God's things while they are really seeking their own. Our Lord drives them out with a whip of cords and throws out all their trade. "Do not make My Father's house a house of trade," He says. His disciples remember the words of the sixty-ninth psalm, one of the sacrificial psalms: "The zeal of Your house has eaten Me up." This very zeal and devotion to His Father's glory was a pledge of His death.
Zeal against wrongdoers can sour into plain hatred. One writer names the love that lies under the conflict, and the cost it brings.
The God-fearing man sees that God is righteous and His testimonies faithful. That brings him into conflict with those who forget God's words. His earnest zeal against evil was not simply hatred of evil, but love of the truth. He can say of God's Word, "Your servant loves it." Still, the one who is zealous for the Word in a scene of evil will count for nothing in the eyes of the world, and be despised.
Zeal can be real and still go wrong. The first danger is that fighting evil can shape the mind of the fighter.
We may be so taken up with opposition and evil that it forms the state of our mind, even though we stand against the wicked. That is only meeting flesh with flesh. The one who looks to the Lord is different. In a scene of wickedness, the word he has not forgotten shapes the character of his path. That leads him to see God as the One who deals with these things.
The second danger is zeal that runs ahead of knowledge.
We may be very zealous for the glory of God. But the greater our zeal, the more harm it will do if it is not according to knowledge.
- Consumed by an object. What zeal is fixed on decides its power. When the Lord Jesus is that object, even weak zeal becomes a consuming fire.
- Consumed for God. The psalmist burns because people forgot God's words, not because they hurt him. The flame consumes him as the altar-flame consumes the sacrifice.
- Consumed perfectly in Christ. The same zeal flamed out when He cleansed His Father's house, and that devotion to His Father's glory was a pledge of His death.
- Consumed by love. The conflict springs from love of the truth, not from bare hatred of evil. It also leaves the zealous person looking small in the world's eyes.
- Consumed, not corroded. Fighting evil can shape the mind in evil's own image, and zeal without knowledge does harm. The cure is a path shaped by the word we refuse to forget.
Thy word is exceeding pure, and thy servant loveth it.
This verse sits between a burning zeal against those who forget God's words (v. 139) and the confession of a man who is small and despised (v. 141). Its logic is simple: the purity of what God says is the reason His servant loves it.
Older translations read "your word is very pure" where the ESV has "your promise is well tried." The word behind them comes from the world of metalworking.
The word 'pure' used here comes from the refining process. Refining gets rid of the impurities in metal — 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 because God is pure, God's word is pure in its very nature.
That purity holds up under testing. It also gives courage to a person the world despises.
But whatever the evil around, there is rest and comfort for the heart when the word of God is known and loved. "Your word is very pure." Test it however you like, and the testing only proves it more to be purity itself. The heart loves it as its resting place and joy. And it gives greatness and courage to the heart. One may be small and despised, yet still have the courage to keep God's precepts despite the power of the world or its scorn.
Love for the Word is not a decision the psalmist talks himself into. It belongs to the new life God gives.
However weak our zeal may be, it kindles a consuming fire in the soul when the Lord Jesus is the object of that zeal. This is even more so when enemies dispute the truth of God's words. For to the believer God's Word is very pure, with not the least impurity mixed in. And it is the very nature of one born again to love that Word.
Verse 139 could look like nothing more than anger at wrongdoing. Verse 140 shows what was actually driving it, and also what it costs.
The God-fearing man recognizes the righteousness of God and the faithfulness of His testimonies. This brings him into conflict with those who forget God's words. His earnest zeal against evil was not simply hatred of evil, but love of the truth. He can say of God's Word, "Your servant loves it." Still, the one who is zealous for the Word in a scene of evil will seem unimportant and despised in the eyes of the world. Even so, the servant of the Lord does not forget His precepts.
The purity of the Word is what a weak man grips when he has nothing else to hold.
That leads him back to think of the Word, how pure it is, and how he loves it. He is little, it is true — the one who has this spirit is always little. He is despised too, for most people have got so far away from God that they can afford to despise such feeble opposition. Yet with all this he clings to what links his weakness with the Lord of all: "I have not forgotten Your precepts."
The Word is not only pure in itself. It also purifies the person who obeys it.
The words themselves are pure like silver. As Psalm 12:6 says, "The words of the LORD are pure words, like silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times." And obedience to the words of the Lord purifies the soul, for we read in 1 Peter 1:22, "having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth." If we want practical, continuous purity of heart and life, we must keep the great fact before our souls that we belong to God.
- Refined. "Pure" is a metalworker's word: everything foreign burned out. Many things are true without being pure; God's Word is pure because God is pure.
- Tested. Examine it as hard as you like, and it only proves to be purity itself. That is why the heart makes it its resting place and joy.
- Loved. Loving this Word is instinct, not effort. A nature born of God loves a Word with nothing false mixed in.
- Costly. Loving the truth brings conflict with those who forget God's words. It leaves a person small and despised. Yet this same Word links his weakness to the Lord of all.
- Purifying. What is pure purifies. Obedience to the Word cleanses the soul, so love for it shows up as daily purity of heart and life.
I am little and despised thy precepts have I not forgotten.
The writer of this psalm says two things about himself at once. He counts for nothing in the eyes of the people around him. Yet he has not let go of God's word. Why do those two things go together? And what keeps such a person steady when the world counts him as nothing?
The words "small and despised" describe how other people rate him, not how he feels.
Every believer surely sympathizes with the expression of verse 141, "I am small and despised," that is, considered of no account. Yet unlike the arrogant pride of unbelievers, he says, "I do not forget Your precepts." For God's righteousness is not temporary but eternal. His law is truth, never spoiled by the smallest error or deceit.
The contempt is not random. It comes from his love for God's word in a place where others have forgotten it.
When a God-fearing man sees the righteousness of God and the faithfulness of His testimonies, it brings him into conflict with those who forget God's words. His earnest zeal against evil was not simply hatred of evil. It was love of the truth. Still, the one who is zealous for the Word in a world of evil will be insignificant and despised in the eyes of the world. Even so, the servant of the Lord does not forget His precepts.
This smallness is not a passing low moment. It marks everyone who has this spirit, and one writer says why people dare to despise them.
He is little, it is true, and despised. Anyone who has this spirit is always little. People have drifted so far from God that they can afford to despise such feeble opposition. Yet through it all he clings to the one thing that links his feebleness with the Lord of all: "I do not forget Your precepts."
Contempt could easily silence a person. Instead, God's word makes the heart that loves it bold.
The heart loves it as its resting-place and joy. And it gives greatness and courage to the heart. A person may be small and despised, yet still have the courage to keep God's precepts, despite the power of the world or its scorn. This is because they are God's words — they show what God is as He judges evil and good.
One writer puts these words in the mouth of Christ as a child. No one else has matched Him.
Surely as a child He could say, "I am small and despised, yet I do not forget your precepts." No other little child served the Lord as He did. Never before, never after, was there a child, a man, who pleased God in all that he did. Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, month by month, year by year, He glorified God. He spent His whole lifetime doing the will of God.
What holds him up is not his own standing. It is God's righteousness, which faith grips when everything seems buried.
In the middle of confusion, where everything might seem buried, faith still affirms that the LORD's righteousness is eternal righteousness. And His law is truth, which must always remain truth.
- Small means nothing. "Small and despised" is not humility talking. It is the world's verdict: others count him as nothing.
- Small because faithful. Zeal for God's word in a world of evil makes a person insignificant and despised. He loves the truth others have forgotten.
- Small but attached. People far from God can afford to despise such feeble opposition. Yet the little man clings to the one thing that links his feebleness with the Lord of all.
- Small yet brave. The word gives greatness and courage to the heart. A despised person can still keep God's precepts, despite the world's power and scorn.
- Small, but standing. Faith rests on God's eternal righteousness and on a law that stays truth, not on its own size. Christ Himself walked this path as a child.
Thy righteousness is an everlasting righteousness, and thy law is truth.
In verse 141 the psalmist calls himself small and despised, and here he answers that contempt with two facts about God that never move. The question is what it costs a man to say this when nothing around him looks righteous or true.
The man who says this speaks from no comfortable position. The world has written him off, and his courage comes from knowing whose words he is holding.
A person may be small and despised, and still have the courage to keep God's precepts despite the power of the world or its scorn. They are God's words. They are what God is as the One who judges evil and good; and He is everlasting. His righteousness is everlasting, and His law is truth.
The word "everlasting" stands against everything in the psalmist's life that has a time limit. His enemies and his distress belong to a season. God's righteousness does not.
He knows the truth will prevail, and that God's righteousness is everlasting. Enemies may surround him. Trouble and anguish may take hold of him. But trial and sorrow will pass away, while the righteousness of God's testimonies will remain.
The second half of the verse means more than facts being correct. One writer takes it as God's verdict on good and evil, set against a world that is false. He also marks a limit to it.
This is not the truth that came along with grace by Jesus Christ. Everything else on the earth is a lie; set against that, this is truth, true religion, God's mind about everything, in contrast with man's thoughts and all he sets up to be. And God will make His judgment revealed in it good for ever… It is not the absolute revelation of God as He is; that is in Christ. But it is the revelation of God's judgment about man, about good and evil, and that will be made good for ever.
Older translations read "your law is truth," the wording these writers use.
The two halves of the verse belong together: what God is, and what His law is. Another writer says neither one has a flaw in it.
God's righteousness is not temporary but eternal. His law is truth, never spoiled by the slightest error or deceit.
Elsewhere the same writer connects this section to the ground it gives for prayer: God's judgments "are upright, not influenced by change whether to the right hand or to the left… Wonderful anchor for the soul!"
The psalmist is not describing what he can see. Everything around him looks buried under confusion, and the verse is faith declaring what stays true anyway.
Everything might seem buried in confusion, yet faith declares that the Lord's righteousness is eternal righteousness, and that His law is truth which must always remain truth. Trouble and anguish have hold of him as he thinks of the madness of his enemies. But this does not bring even the shadow of a summer cloud over those commandments which are his delight.
What God says lasts as long as God does. One writer sets it against the words people speak, which come and go.
This is not just a word that I give out and it passes. It is a word that comes out from God, and it stays; it never changes, and never can change… It is the truth, and it always will be. Many things spoken long ago have passed, and many others may pass. But the word of God will be the truth in the future, just as much then as it is now.
- Small. A man the world despises speaks this verse. He keeps God's precepts because he knows they are God's own words, and that He is everlasting.
- Everlasting. Enemies, trouble and anguish all belong to a passing season. God's righteousness and the righteousness of His testimonies remain after they are gone.
- Truth. Commentators read God's law here as His mind about everything, set against a world that is a lie. It is His verdict on good and evil, and He will make it good for ever. One notes it is short of the full revelation of God, which is in Christ.
- Unmixed. God's righteousness is not temporary but eternal, and His law holds no error and no deceit — nothing in it will mislead you.
- Affirmed. Faith says this while confusion still covers everything. The trouble does not cast even the shadow of a cloud over the commandments the believer delights in.
Trouble and anguish have taken hold upon me thy commandments are my delights.
The writer did not go looking for trouble and anguish. They found him and gripped him — and in the same breath he says God's commandments are still his delight.
The section around this verse is full of enemies who have thrown off God's word. One writer traces the anguish to that source. He then shows what the pressure cannot touch, and what the psalmist still needs from God:
Everything might seem buried in confusion. Even so, faith affirms that the LORD's righteousness is eternal righteousness, and that His law is truth which must always remain truth. Trouble and anguish take hold of him as he thinks of the madness of his enemies. Yet this does not bring even the shadow of a summer cloud over those commandments which are his delight. He affirms again that God's testimonies are righteous forever. All he needs for himself is that God sustain him, giving him the ability to see how blessed those testimonies are, and bringing him into that life which alone is true life: man shall live "by every word that comes from the mouth of God."
Sorrow and delight in one heart at the same time sounds impossible. One writer explains what God's law does inside a person under affliction:
In man, as he is, God's law makes affliction a blessing, breaking him into this law and setting aside his own will. The heart taught this way will look for liberty and room to keep the law. But it delights in the law and is comforted when in trouble. The law sustains the soul in affliction, because it gives a moral joy which affliction cannot touch, and keeps the heart turning to God.
Faith gets tested. The real question comes when the evidence a person can see runs out:
God allows circumstances so overwhelming that, to sight, they would seem beyond His control. Will the tried soul keep its faith in God? God does sustain it: in his inner soul he delights in God's Word, even when he can no longer see God's hand in his outward circumstances.
The psalm never says God stopped the trouble. One writer lists what God did not prevent, and suggests why He might allow such a path:
God had not stopped the proud from lying about him (v. 69). His enemies had almost destroyed him (v. 87). Trouble and anguish had taken hold of him (v. 143). Sometimes God allows a situation, a path for us that we do not like, that we ourselves would not choose. The Lord allows it. Perhaps to test our faith, perhaps to discipline, perhaps to draw us closer to Him — but whatever the reason, God allows it. The psalmist responded by remembering God's words. He focuses on what God has written, meditating on it, keeping it with his whole heart and delighting in it.
That delight has a visible result:
Trouble and anguish so often overtake the believer (v. 143). Yet God's commandments continue to delight his soul without fail, so he is not given over to depression and discouragement.
One writer sets the trouble against what will outlast it:
He knows the truth will prevail, and that God's righteousness is everlasting. Enemies may surround him, and trouble and anguish may take hold of him. But trial and sorrow will pass away, while the righteousness of God's testimonies will remain. So he finds his delight in God's commandments. He looks to God for guidance into the path that leads to life beyond all trouble and anguish.
One writer applies the verse first to a faithful group facing persecution in a coming day. He then applies it to believers now:
The tribulation of the power of evil will take hold of the remnant. But they will have this comfort: the commandments are their delight in the inner man. So it is with us in all sorrow, in the evil day, in a yet higher way.
- Found, not chosen. The trouble came from outside. God did not restrain the enemies, and He allowed the path instead of removing it.
- Untouched. The pressure never reaches the delight. Not even the shadow of a summer cloud falls on the commandments.
- Inward. The delight holds where the outward evidence fails — when the soul can no longer see God's hand at work.
- Guarding. That delight does not fail, so depression and discouragement never take over.
- Outlasting. Trial and sorrow pass. God's testimonies stay righteous, and the path leads to life beyond all trouble and anguish.
The righteousness of thy testimonies is for ever give me understanding, and I shall live.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
KOPH. I have called with [my] whole heart; answer me, O Jehovah I will observe thy statutes.
Psalm 119:145 opens a section that runs to verse 152, and it opens with a man at full stretch. His whole heart is in the cry, and the same breath that asks God to answer also promises obedience. Why does a plea for help come tied to a promise to keep God's statutes?
The psalms keep coming back to this phrase: "with my whole heart." One commentator ties it to David, and to the day he danced before God while his wife Michal watched.
"David danced before the LORD with all his might. And David was wearing a linen ephod" (2 Samuel 6:14). This was not just natural excitement, but genuine delight in God. God was coming nearer to His servant. Michal might despise the way he showed his joy, but God valued it at its true worth. We surely owe whole-heartedness to such a God as ours! … This is how David loved to speak to his God. Lord, save us all from dead, respectable formality in the things of God; give us David's spirit.
The prayer does not stop at "answer me." A promise follows, and one writer reads the two halves as cause and effect.
The psalmist expresses his whole-hearted dependence upon the Lord. He is seeking the assurance that God hears his prayer. True dependence leads to obedience, so he adds, "I will keep your statutes." He wants more than a hearing. He wants God to answer his prayer with a complete deliverance, one that would set him free to obey the Lord's testimonies without hindrance.
In the next verse he asks God to save him, but never says from what. That silence teaches something.
The psalmist calls with his whole heart upon the LORD, earnestly declaring his purpose of obedience. Where this is found, it naturally and necessarily leads to serious exercise of heart over the Word: it is the foundation of it. The path is not so simple that we can find it without God; nor is it meant to be; but then we find Him our companion in it. The one praying needs salvation as well. He does not say from what; indeed, from how many things! These are the hindrances that keep coming up against obedience. But they are helps to faith, as everything is that throws us upon God.
Another writer reads that silence the same way.
He cries out for salvation, though he does not say from what. This seems to show that he is simply feeling his own helplessness, whether from personal problems or from troubles caused by others. This salvation would strengthen him to keep God's testimonies.
Crying out here is not weakness. One writer names what it is.
Dependence is the great resource in the evil day, and indeed always, with confidence in the LORD, but according to His word.
Commentators also read this section as the voice of the faithful in Israel in a coming time of trouble.
KOPH. Verses 145-152. The LORD's servant expresses the feelings of the godly remnant of Israel, crying to Him for an answer to their pleadings, and for His salvation. In the darkness of the night they hope in God's word, and count upon His loving kindness. If the enemy has drawn near, they are confident that the LORD is near, and that they can rely on His word at all times.
The verses that follow show what this cry costs in practice.
His dependence is not merely a passive admission that he owes everything to God. It is an active, whole-hearted dependence that calls upon God. It does so with a diligence that leads the believer to rise before dawn to cry to the Lord. And his dependence grows out of confidence, for he can say, "I hope in your words." Dependence, obedience, and confidence mark the godly man. Further, the Word in which his confidence rests becomes the meditation of his heart in the quiet of the night watches.
The opposite of a whole heart is a divided one. One writer traces unanswered prayer back to it.
If there is any question about a saint's honesty, James says, "Purify your hearts, you double-minded." He tells us that a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways. That man should not think he will get anything from the Lord in prayer. Why are our prayers not answered? … One reason is double-mindedness — the mind half on one thing and half on another. If my mind is half on the world and half on Christ, I may pray every day of my life and get no answer.
- Whole heart — We owe God a whole heart. The alternative is a divided mind that receives nothing.
- Whole cry — Dependence is the resource in the evil day. It is active: crying before dawn, meditating in the night.
- Whole obedience — True dependence produces obedience. "Answer me" and "I will keep your statutes" belong in one breath.
- Whole trust — He never names what he needs saving from. Every hindrance to obedience becomes a help to faith, because it throws him on God.
- Whole answer — He wants more than a hearing: a deliverance complete enough to leave him free to obey without hindrance.
I call upon thee; save me, and I will keep thy testimonies.
In this part of Psalm 119, a man under pressure calls out to God for rescue. He does not ask for an easier life. He asks to be free to hold on to what God has said. The verse links three things that are easy to separate: a cry, a rescue, and a life of obedience.
Dependence that stays silent is not real dependence. One writer presses the point: we know we need God, yet we often say nothing to Him.
Here the soul expresses, and expresses to God, the sense of its dependence. This is an important point. We are dependent, we know ourselves to be dependent, and we remain passively so. This shows a lack of interest in the very thing we need, and a failure to count on God's faithful love. If we did count on it, we would cry out... Here he cries with his whole heart, and declares his purpose of obedience to the Lord's commands.
He asks God to save him, but never says from what. Commentators read that silence in two ways. One takes the unnamed trouble as everything that gets in the way of obeying:
The one who prays needs salvation too. He does not say what from. Indeed, there are so many things — the hindrances that keep turning up in the way of obedience. Yet these are helps to faith, as everything is that throws us back on God.
Another reads it as the honest admission of a man at the end of his own strength:
He cries out for salvation, though he does not say from what. This seems to show that he is feeling his own helplessness, whether from personal problems or from those caused by others. This salvation would strengthen him to keep God's testimonies.
Notice the order in the verse: the rescue comes first, and the keeping follows it. The request is for a deliverance thorough enough that nothing is left standing between him and obedience.
The psalmist expresses his whole-hearted dependence on the Lord, seeking to know that God hears his prayer. True dependence leads to obedience, and so he adds, "I will keep your statutes." He wants more than to be heard. He wants God to answer his prayer with a complete deliverance that would set him free to obey the Lord's testimonies without hindrance.
Yet the word is not just a duty waiting on the far side of rescue. He already loves it.
Then he looks for deliverance so that, once he has it, he may keep them: no hindrance, and his heart set that way... Deliverance was certainly sought, but the word itself is loved. All this goes together necessarily in the soul.
Psalm 119 uses several different words for God's word, each with its own shade. "Testimony" is one of them, and the Hebrew behind it points to the idea of a witness.
(2) Testimony (Eduth)—witness, testimony.
That witness points two ways at once. It also asks something of us before we can keep it.
Remember what we said about this word "testimonies"? It testifies what God is, and it also shows me what I ought to be. Before we can "keep" His testimonies, we must first have received them, accepted them, and be willing to obey.
One writer reads this section (verses 145–152) as the voice of a faithful group in Israel. They call on God while the enemy closes in.
The Lord's servant expresses the feelings of the godly remnant of Israel. He cries to the Lord for an answer to their pleadings, and for His salvation. In the darkness of the night they hope in God's word, and count on His loving kindness. If the enemy has drawn near, there is confidence that the Lord is near, and that His word can be relied on at all times.
The whole section is read as a stretch of spiritual struggle rather than settled calm:
The next section is harder to characterise; but as a fifth it seems to speak of exercise — not, in the first part at least, so much from the difficulties and trials of the road, as over the word of God itself: that healthy exercise which one wishes we all knew more of.
- Cry. Knowing you need God and then saying nothing to Him shows you are not counting on His love. Here the whole heart calls out.
- Salvation. The danger is never named. Commentators read it either as the many hindrances to obedience or as plain helplessness.
- Freedom. He asks for a complete rescue — one that leaves him free to obey without hindrance.
- Keeping. Testimonies show what God is and what I ought to be. We must receive and accept them before we can keep them.
- Confidence. The enemy draws near, but so does the Lord — and His word holds good at all times.
I anticipate the morning-dawn and I cry I hope in thy word.
Psalm 119:147 sits in a section where enemies press in on the psalmist, and he turns that pressure into prayer. His day starts before the light does. He can call out into the dark because he has staked everything on what God has said.
Older English translations open the verse with "I prevented the dawning of the morning." That word has changed meaning since then. One writer lists it among the words that now mislead readers:
Some Old English words used to mean something different from what they mean now. The old word now misleads… So "prevent" (Ps. 21:3; Ps. 59:10; Ps. 79:8; Ps. 88:13; Ps. 119:147-148) means the same as our modern word "anticipate."
He is not stopping the dawn. He is getting ahead of it.
Rising early is not the point in itself. One commentator reads the early hour as a sign of how active the psalmist's dependence on God is:
His dependence is not just a passive admission that he owes everything to God. It is an active, whole-hearted dependence that calls on God. It comes with a diligence that makes the believer rise before dawn to cry to the Lord. And his dependence grows out of confidence, for he can say, "I hope in your words." So the godly man is marked by dependence, obedience, and confidence.
The crying and the hoping are not two separate moods. The Word he had been reading created the confidence he brings to the prayer:
Through all this the Word gets a large place with him, just as surely as God does. He is up before the dawn, crying out to God, yet with a hopeful expectancy that the Word had worked in him. More than that, he is awake before the night watches, thinking over God's sayings and testing what he knows. He keeps finding the drag of his own nature on him, and for that he has to turn to Jehovah's loving-kindness for life-giving energy.
An early riser could start to treat his own devotion as leverage with God. One commentator rules that out:
Still, his whole-hearted diligence is not the ground of his appeal to the Lord. The ground is the loving-kindness in the heart of the Lord. That is where he looks for the life-giving energy that will keep him going, even though his enemies draw near with mischief in their hearts.
The Gospels show the same pattern in Jesus. After a day crowded with need, He gets up long before daylight to pray:
He had been busy early and late with the sorrows of others. Yet here we find Him far ahead of the dawn, while it was still the dark of night, so that He could talk with His Father… And if He withdrew like this to be with God — Himself the Lord God — before He started the work of the day, can we wonder that we fail so much in outward work, when we fail even more in this inward closeness with our Father? Be sure of this: the secret of holy strength and endurance in service is found there alone.
The verse also has an edge for how we order our hours. One writer turns it into a question of what comes first:
When do we read the word of God?… People who have to get up early and have much to do often feel a strong pull to put off their private reading of the word of truth until later in the day. The result is that other things fill the mind. They either give up reading, or cannot settle down to study the word, and so they decline in soul. The best things in Israel were devoted to the Lord… The manna came down early, and they had to gather it before sunrise; and our Lord said, "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness."
- Anticipate. The old phrase "I prevented the dawning" means he got ahead of the morning. His prayer started before the day did.
- Dependence. The early hour is not the virtue. It is proof of a leaning on God that acts, not one that is only admitted.
- Word first. The Word he turned over in the night watches produced the hope he brings to the darkness.
- Loving-kindness. His diligence is never the ground of his appeal. He expects an answer because of God's heart, not his own record.
- Christ's pattern. Jesus rose long before day to be with His Father. That is where strength for the day's work comes from — and why we so often lack it.
Mine eyes anticipate the night-watches, that I may meditate in thy word.
In verse 147 the psalmist cries for help before dawn. Here he is awake through the night as well, with his mind at work on what God has said. Two questions follow: what did the older wording "prevent the night watches" mean, and why does this man give up sleep for Scripture?
Older translations say his eyes "prevent the night watches." Today that sounds as if he stopped them. One writer lists this among the words in the Psalms that have changed meaning:
To change Old English words whose meaning used to be different from what it is now. The old word now misleads. For instance, "leasing" (Ps. 4:2, Ps. 5:6) is not gleaning, but "lying"... So "prevent" (Ps. 21:3; Ps. 59:10; Ps. 79:8; Ps. 88:13; Ps. 119:147-148) is equivalent to our modern word "anticipate."
So his eyes get there first. The night ran in set watches, and he was awake ahead of them.
This verse sits in a group of eight (145–152) where enemies press the psalmist hard. One commentator reads verses 147 and 148 together as one picture of real reliance on God:
His dependence is not just a passive admission that he owes everything to God. It is an active, whole-hearted dependence that calls on God. He calls with such diligence that he rises before dawn to cry to the Lord. His dependence also comes out of confidence, for he can say, "I hope in your words." So the godly man is marked by dependence, obedience, and confidence. And the Word he trusts becomes what he meditates on in the quiet of the night watches.
The same devotion runs right through the psalm, and the writer keeps returning to it at both ends of the day:
He is ever at it. "Seven times a day" does he praise Jehovah (v. 164). Before the morning breaks he cried: "I hoped in Thy Word" (v. 14). At night he robs the night watches of slumber, as he says, "that I might meditate in Thy Word" (v. 148).
The word "meditate" now carries ideas the psalmist would not recognise. One writer marks the difference:
Meditation has got itself a bad name with Christians, because it is so often linked to Buddhism and eastern religions, where it means emptying the mind. The psalmist's meditation had nothing to do with that. His was a focused meditation — reflecting on God's word.
Why give the slow hours of the night to it instead of just reading more? Because reading and absorbing are not the same thing:
One reason things have so little hold over our hearts is that we meditate on them so little. If we are ever to make truth our own, we must sit down alone and quietly and think it over. I am sure God does meet His people in a wonderful way through a passing verse or line of Scripture. But that is not the same as meditation, and study will not make up for meditation either. It is meditation that forms the affections of the heart.
The wakefulness is not leisure. It comes out of trouble, and it turns towards God's character:
His soul was so deeply concerned that he rose from sleep before dawn to cry for help, for his hope was in God's Word (v. 147). In fact, through the night he lay awake with the same concern to meditate in the Word of God. Can there be any doubt that the Lord would hear and respond to the voice of his supplications? Not at all. He is a God of loving-kindness, and He would revive His troubled servant according to His justice, which is just as involved as His loving-kindness (v. 149).
Other writers hear in this section the voice of a faithful group in Israel under pressure from enemies:
In the darkness of the night they hope in God's word, and count on His loving-kindness. If the enemy has come near, they are sure that Jehovah is near, and that they can rely on His word at all times.
So what does a busy reader today do with a man who stayed awake to think about Scripture?
Most of us are very busy, with far too much to do. We read the word, we pray and then move on to something else... Here is a man choosing to stay awake at night to reflect on, think about, and chew over what God has written. Meditation was of enormous importance to the psalmist... All-night sessions may not be practical for many of us, but giving time for quiet reflection on what God has written should be a habit for each of us.
- Anticipate. "Prevent" means to get there first. His eyes open ahead of the night watches, so God's Word gets the first hour, not the leftover one.
- Pressure. Trouble is what wakes him. Surrounded by enemies, he lies awake with the Word instead of his fears.
- Focus. This meditation is not an emptying of the mind but a filling of it with what God has written.
- Formation. Study alone will not do the work. Turning truth over alone and quietly is what shapes the affections of the heart.
- Habit. All-night sessions may not suit everyone. But unhurried reflection on God's Word should be a regular habit, not an emergency measure.
Hear my voice according to thy loving-kindness O Jehovah, quicken me according to thy judgment.
Psalm 119:149 is a two-part cry, and both halves rest on something in God, not on the man praying. He asks God to hear him because God loves, and to give him life because God is just. He prays it early and late, with enemies closing in.
He has been praying hard. Yet his effort is not what he puts forward when he asks God to act.
His whole-hearted diligence is not the ground of his appeal to the Lord; instead, it is the loving-kindness in the heart of the Lord. To this he looks for the reviving strength of life to keep him going, though his enemies draw near with evil in their hearts.
The diligence is real, even if it earns nothing. One writer describes his nights, and what he found pulling the other way.
He is up before the dawn, crying out to God, yet with the hopeful expectancy which the Word had worked in him. Before the night watches he is awake, thinking over God's sayings and testing what he knows. All the while he feels the drag of nature on him. For that he has to turn to Jehovah's loving-kindness for reviving strength, so that he can tell what comes from Him, according to His unfailing judgment.
Older translations render the request "quicken me." The word behind it points to reviving, and the psalmist uses it again and again.
The Hebrew word chayah carries the force of "to revive, or give new life" in a moral sense in the Old Testament; so we read "quicken me again." In Psalm 119 the psalmist asked nine times to be quickened — according to God's word, or His righteousness, or His judgements.
If the psalmist has already said that God's word gave him life, the repeated request looks strange. One writer sets the answer against the fuller truth found in the New Testament.
The Psalmist says that God's Word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he desires to be quickened. The word here carries more the sense of being revived, of being restored to stronger life. In Old Testament times man was still under test. Only when we come to the New Testament is that testing over, and man formally declared dead in trespasses and sins. So only in the New Testament does the full truth of quickening appear.
The second half of the verse names the standard for the renewal asked for. The ESV calls it God's justice; older translations read "your judgment" — God's own mind about what is right.
He looked to God, as we shall, with a true heart and in distress — and he looked according to the kindness of Jehovah. But he wanted God's power to work in him, to quicken him, to give him life according to the mind of God: that is, life whose nature and desires match God's judgment. He is not speaking as a dead man, but of moral quickening.
The verse is a request, but it carries no anxiety. Both halves rest on what God is, and that settles the outcome.
Can there be any doubt that the Lord would hear and answer the voice of his prayers? None at all; for He is a God of loving-kindness, and He would surely revive His troubled servant according to His justice, which is just as much involved as His loving-kindness.
- Cry. The prayer rises from a man surrounded by enemies. He has been awake before dawn and through the night watches, thinking over God's word.
- Ground. His diligence is not what he pleads; the appeal rests on the loving-kindness in God's own heart.
- Gift. "Quicken me" asks for reviving — being restored to stronger life. The psalmist repeats the plea through Psalm 119, even after saying God's word had already given him life.
- Standard. God's judgment sets the measure of the life he asks for. Its nature and desires must match God's own mind about what is right.
- Certainty. Because both halves of the request name what God is — steadfast love and justice — the answer is not in doubt.
They have drawn nigh that follow after mischief they are far from thy law.
Psalm 119 is one long song of a heart that loves God's word, written by someone who is not sheltered while he sings. Here he names the pressure he is under. People are closing in on him, and what marks them out is not their nearness but their distance from God's law. (Older translations say these enemies "follow after mischief"; the ESV has "persecute me with evil purpose.")
Verse 150 falls inside a block of eight verses that begins with a cry and ends with confidence. One summary of this section describes the whole movement in a sentence:
Verses 145-152. These verses give the feelings of the godly remnant of Israel. The Lord's servant cries to Him for an answer to their pleadings, and for His salvation. In the darkness of the night they hope in God's word, and count upon His loving-kindness. If the enemy has drawn near, there is confidence that the Lord is near, and that His word can be relied on at all times.
Another writer gives the same eight verses a single heading, and it puts the enemy and the trust side by side:
Whole-hearted dependence upon the Lord when surrounded by enemies bent on mischief.
One writer explains where this psalm sits, and why that matters:
Psalm 119 is in general the law written in the heart. This gives it an important place among the psalms. It is also clearly tied to Israel's sorrows in the last days, and to their earlier departure from God. Each division of the psalm shows, I think, a different stage of what the heart passes through as the law is written on it.
People are drawing near; God's law is nowhere in them. One writer says that gap shows what their approach really is:
Some drew near who follow after wickedness, but this is only hypocrisy, for in fact they are far from God's law and therefore from God (v. 150).
Their quarrel is not only with a man. It is with what he is busy with. They break in on the very thing the psalm keeps describing — a heart at work over God's word:
He is not allowed to do this undisturbed. The wicked are near, and threatening mischief; enemies in heart and will to that which occupies him. But the Lord too is near, the Rock on which all these waves break in vain.
Earlier in this section the psalmist is awake at night, hoping in God's word. Yet when danger closes in, he does not point to that record as his reason for being heard:
His whole-hearted diligence is not the ground of his appeal to the Lord; it is the loving-kindness in the heart of the Lord. He looks to this for the life-giving energy to sustain him, though his enemies draw near with mischief in their hearts.
The next verse answers this one: they are near, but so is God. One writer ties that to a day at Dothan, where the prophet Elisha and his servant were surrounded by enemy soldiers:
There were two hosts around Dothan that day. The servant saw the Syrians and was dismayed; the prophet saw the heavenly armies and was confident. It was the same with Jacob. When the angels of God met him, as recorded in Genesis 32:1, he called the place Mahanaim — "two hosts." As the psalmist puts it in Psalm 119:150-151, "They draw near who persecute me with evil purpose … (but) you are near." Danger may indeed be close, but God is nearer to us than all our foes. We may well ask ourselves, which host do we see today?
- Near. People are closing in with harm in mind. That is the plain trouble of the verse: they will not let him sit undisturbed over God's word.
- Far. What defines them is their distance from God's law. Drawing near while living far from His law is hypocrisy, and distance from the law means distance from God.
- Ground. His appeal does not rest on his own hard work or his nights spent over God's word. It rests on the loving-kindness in God's heart.
- Nearer. God answers their nearness with a greater nearness. He is the Rock on which all these waves break in vain.
- Sight. Two hosts surround the believer, as at Dothan; the question the verse leaves is which one you are looking at.
Thou, Jehovah, art near, and all thy commandments are truth.
Two lines stand side by side in this part of Psalm 119: those chasing after harm are close, and the LORD is close. The psalmist does not measure his enemies. He names who else is on the field, and he holds to a word that danger cannot change.
The verse before speaks of pursuers closing in; this verse answers with a second nearness. One writer sets the two side by side. He points to the morning when the prophet Elisha's servant woke to find the city of Dothan ringed by an enemy army.
There were two armies around Dothan that day. The servant saw the Syrians and lost heart; the prophet saw the heavenly armies and was confident. As the Psalmist puts it in Psalm 119:150-151, "They draw near who persecute me with evil purpose… (but) You are near." Danger may be close at hand, but God is nearer to us than all our foes. We may well ask ourselves which army we see today. Is it the crowd of those who hate us, or the company of "ministering spirits sent out to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation" (Heb. 1:14)?
Knowing that God is near is not automatic. One writer traces where this discovery comes from.
Because he depends on the Lord with his whole heart, he makes a discovery. Though his enemies draw near to do him harm, the Lord is near to preserve. And His commandments are truth, firmly established for ever.
The word "near" cuts both ways in this psalm. The wicked draw near too. One writer explains why their nearness counts for nothing.
Some drew near who follow after wickedness, but this is only hypocrisy, because in fact they are far from God's law and therefore far from God (v. 150). But the Lord is near, for the sake of all those who draw near to Him in truth, who recognise His commandments as truth. For concerning His testimonies, every believer can agree that God has founded them for ever, whether he has known this for a long time or not.
The two halves of the verse belong together. One writer pictures what happens when the wicked come up against them.
He is not left undisturbed. The wicked are near, and threatening mischief; enemies in heart and will to what occupies him. But the LORD too is near, the Rock on which all these waves break in vain. The truth stands, and nothing can change it. That is what His commandments are. Yes, His testimonies have long been known as fixed for ever on His own unchangeable foundations.
It might seem needless to say that what God commands is true. One writer notes that the psalm says it anyway, and that the reason lies in where the word comes from.
This is obvious, given the source, but it is still emphasised here, so I will emphasise it. God's word is true.
Nearness to God does something inside a person too. One writer describes what a sense of His presence produces when an enemy is in view.
The sense of His presence gives joy, calmness, and courage in the presence of the enemy, and 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 the heart filled with quiet confidence.
- Near, and nearer. Two parties close in on the psalmist at once. The pursuers are near, but God is nearer than every foe. The question is which army you see.
- Near because dependent. Whole-hearted dependence on the Lord is what finds Him near to preserve.
- Near in truth. The wicked can come close and still be far from God's law and from God. Real nearness belongs to those who recognise His commandments as truth.
- Near and unmoved. God is the Rock, and the waves of the wicked break on Him in vain. His commandments are truth, and nothing can alter truth.
- Near and steadying. A felt sense of His presence gives calm and courage in front of the enemy, and keeps the heart in quiet confidence.
From thy testimonies, I have known of old that thou hast founded them for ever.
Enemies press close in this part of the psalm. The psalmist answers them with something he learned long ago from God's testimonies: God founded them to last for ever.
Two things are near at once. Enemies threaten the psalmist, but his answer is not that the danger is small. God is nearer still, and what God has said stands on ground nobody can shift.
The wicked are near, and threatening mischief; enemies in heart and will to what occupies him. But the Lord is near too, the Rock on which all these waves break in vain. The truth abides: nothing can alter that; and this is what His commandments are. Yes, His testimonies have long been known as fixed for ever on His own unchangeable foundations.
One writer puts it in a single line:
In the depths, the confidence of faith is in the word known of old to be for ever.
To say God founded His testimonies for ever says two things at once. Nothing can change them, and nothing can stop them coming true. That second half matters, because these verses are a cry for rescue. The psalmist is not asking for any deliverance he can get; he is asking for the deliverance God's own word has already promised.
Faith knew the Lord was near and the path plain. All His commandments were the one true path of security and of God. The Lord's testimonies were founded for ever. They could not change; they will be made good. Only God must come in, and that was his cry and demand here. These verses are a cry for deliverance. But if the cry is true and of God, it must be according to His word. It must make good for ever the truth of that word, in its moral testimonies, and as the foundation of hope.
The psalmist has known this for a long time, and he learned it from the testimonies themselves. But the length of his knowing does not make it true. God founded them, so a new believer stands on the same ground as an old one.
Some drew near who follow after wickedness, but this is only hypocrisy, because in fact they are far from God's law and therefore from God (v. 150). But the Lord is near, for the sake of all those who draw near to Him in truth, who recognise His commandments as truth. For concerning His testimonies, every believer can agree that God has founded them forever, whether he has known this for a long time or not.
Such confidence shows itself in a life. The lines just before this one show a man who prays before dawn and turns God's word over at night.
His dependence is not merely a passive admission that he owes God everything in a general way. It is an active, whole-hearted dependence that calls on God. It does so with a diligence that leads the believer to rise before dawn to cry to the Lord. What is more, his dependence is the outcome of confidence, for he can say, "I hoped in Your word." So the godly man is marked by dependence, obedience, and confidence. Further, the Word he trusts becomes the meditation of his heart, in the quiet of the night watches.
The same psalm says elsewhere that God's word is settled in the heavens for ever. One writer ties that line to this verse.
The source of this word is God, and springing from its source is the truth that the word exists outside of time. "Settled in the heavens for ever." That is a great statement — it stresses that there are no doubts about God's word; we need not fear that He will change His mind. Its truths and its existence are eternal. What God says in time is eternally true… What God has promised in His word is decreed and settled. Everything we as Christians bank on, we rely on because God's word says it. And it is fine: those things are settled in the heavens for ever. There is no reason to let any doubt creep in. Verse 152 says something similar.
- Foundation. God founded His testimonies on His own unchangeable foundations. And the Lord Himself is near, the Rock on which every wave of opposition breaks in vain.
- Unchanging. Founded for ever, they cannot change. God's word is settled in the heavens, so we need not fear that He will change His mind.
- Fulfilled. God will also make them good. The psalmist's cry for rescue asks only for what God's word has already promised.
- Shared. God makes them permanent, not the years we have known them. Every believer stands on the same ground, old or new.
- Formed. Such confidence bears fruit: the believer rises before dawn to call on God and turns His word over at night. Dependence, obedience, and confidence go together.
RESH. See mine affliction, and deliver me; for I have not forgotten thy law.
These verses are set in affliction. Enemies press hard on the writer, and he asks God to look at what is happening to him. What gives a sufferer the standing to ask that? And what does he expect God to do?
This prayer assumes something about God's character. One writer puts it this way, taking verses 153 and 154 together:
The psalmist knows that God is not indifferent to the trials of those who remain faithful to His Word. Therefore he appeals to the Lord to look upon his affliction. What matters to God's people must matter to God. So the psalmist can put his case into God's hands. He does not try to answer his enemies. Instead he asks God to plead his cause, deliver him from his afflictions, and keep his soul in the energy of life.
The psalm does not begin here. It begins with what the law meant to the heart. Only later do the enemies crowd in. One writer traces that shape and draws a principle from it:
The one who opens his heart to God is now taken up with the persecutors and enemies, with God's deliverance and with the need of help. That was much less so at the beginning. At the start, what the law was for the heart was more in view. It is always so. With Christ the word of blessing comes first; at the end He faces enemies, and looks for deliverance. So with Paul. He begins by carrying out the blessing. At the close he has to deal with persecution and desertion too. It is always so when someone keeps on doing good, because God's testimony in every form and faithfulness draws out opposition… But where the heart and the way are righteous, the affliction becomes a ground for pleading with God.
Faithfulness draws opposition, and that affliction is what puts the prayer in his mouth.
The second half of the verse is his reason for asking. One commentator reads it as a real claim, and follows the stanza on into what he asks next:
With firm purpose to overcome evil, the psalmist prays confidently, "Look on my affliction and deliver me" (v. 153). He surely has title to pray this way, for he did not forget God's law. He speaks as depending on God to be his attorney and plead his cause. He asks further than this too: that God would redeem him, that is, set him free from any bondage laid on him. Then he also asks God to do a work in him, that is, to revive him in keeping with the Word of God (v. 154).
So he asks three things, not one: God as his advocate, God as his rescuer, God as the one who gives him new life.
That "title to pray" needs guarding, or the verse turns into a boast. Another writer, summarising this section, states the limit:
The keynote of the sixth section is the prayer of the second verse, "Plead my cause." To that end the psalmist spreads his case out before God. The wicked cannot hope for deliverance. But he does not hesitate to stand in the judgment he invites. That judgment, of course, is not at all a matter of any absolute righteousness. It rests only on integrity of heart in the middle of much weakness and many adversaries.
The same writer adds who is fit to plead the case, and draws a line between weakness and wickedness:
The affliction he is in makes him seek deliverance. So he asks God to take up his cause — that Jehovah, who fully knows, would Himself plead it. He owns his utter weakness and has no need to hide it. But he is not among the wicked who do not seek the divine statutes.
Verse 153 opens a group of eight verses. One summary of them lays out what he asks for:
RESH. Verses 153-160. Here the cry is for deliverance from affliction, for the Lord to plead the cause of the righteous, and for redemption. Three times over (verses 154, 156, 159) comes the cry to be revived, so that life in the power of God's word might be known in practice. When the Lord steps in for His people, He will not spare the wicked who have persecuted, oppressed and betrayed others.
- Not forgotten by him. He kept hold of God's word under pressure. He "did not forget God's law," and that gives him title to pray.
- Not forgotten by God. He asks God to look, sure that God "is not indifferent to the trials of those who remain faithful to His Word."
- Not a boast. The claim is "not at all a matter of any absolute righteousness, but only of integrity of heart in the middle of much weakness."
- Not answered by self-defence. He never argues back at his enemies; he puts his case into God's hands and asks Him to plead it.
- Not rescue only. He asks for more than rescue — life in the power of God's word, not just relief from trouble.
Plead my cause, and redeem me quicken me according to thy word.
Psalm 119:154 is the prayer of a man under pressure. He stops arguing with his opponents and hands the whole case to God, asking to be rescued and to be made alive again by God's own promise.
The psalmist does not answer his attackers. He treats his trouble as God's own concern and lets God do the arguing.
The psalmist knows that God is not indifferent to the trials of those who stay faithful to His Word. So he asks the Lord to look upon his affliction. More than that, what concerns God's people must concern God Himself. That is why the psalmist can put his case into God's hands. He does not try to answer his enemies. Instead he asks God to plead his cause, to deliver him from his afflictions, and to keep his soul in the energy of life.
This verse sets the tone for the eight verses it belongs to. It comes from a man who admits he has no strength of his own.
The affliction he is in makes him seek deliverance. The wicked cannot hope for it, and so he appeals for his cause to be taken up — yes, that Jehovah, who knows it all, would plead it Himself. He has not forgotten Jehovah's law. Yet from the start he owns his need: living energy must be given to him by God, who has pledged Himself to him for such need. He admits his complete weakness and does not need to hide it. But he is not among the wicked, who do not seek the divine statutes.
The psalmist invites God's verdict on himself. That invitation is not a claim to be faultless.
The keynote of the sixth section is the prayer of the second verse, "Plead my cause." To that end the psalmist spreads it before God. He does not doubt that he will stand in the judgment he invites. That judgment is not a matter of absolute righteousness at all. It is only a matter of integrity of heart amid much weakness and many adversaries.
The first two requests belong together. Scripture pairs them elsewhere too. The God who takes up a case is the Redeemer strong enough to settle it.
If Assyria and her proud rival competed in oppressing Israel with contempt, Jehovah would plead the cause of His people to the full. "Thus says the LORD of hosts: The people of Israel are oppressed, and the people of Judah with them. … Their Redeemer is strong; the LORD of hosts is his name. He will surely plead their cause, that he may give rest to the earth, but unrest to the inhabitants of Babylon."
The third request is not a repeat of the first two. Getting out of trouble is one thing. Having strength to live well is another. He asks for both.
But along with deliverance, he also seeks quickening — the practical power of life according to the word and the revealed judgments of God. When righteousness is loved in the heart, he seeks it in liberty and power. He seeks outward security in the word, but inward power too. Thinking of Jehovah's tender mercies, he asks to be quickened according to God's judgments. The felt goodness of God always leads to the desire for His will.
One asking is not enough. In this same short section the plea comes back again and again, each time thrown afresh on God's mercy.
He casts himself, therefore, afresh upon Jehovah's tender mercies for this living power, for a life according to the judgments of His truth and holiness. His adversaries are many, but they have not turned him aside from the path of His testimonies. … He invites Jehovah Himself to see how he loves His precepts. Nature holds back, and for that reason he asks a third time that he may know His quickening power.
Older translations read "quicken me according to your word", and the writers below use that older wording. Earlier in this psalm the writer says God's word has already made him alive, yet he keeps asking. That repetition shows what the word means here.
The Psalmist says that God's Word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he desires to be quickened. Here the word plainly carries the sense of being revived, of being restored to more vigorous life.
- Affliction. God does not overlook the trouble of those loyal to His word. That trouble becomes the ground of the appeal.
- Handover. He does not answer his enemies. He spreads the case before the God who knows it all and asks Him to argue it.
- Redeemer. The One who pleads the cause of the oppressed is also strong enough to redeem them — the plea and the rescue are one act.
- Life. Deliverance from outside is only half the prayer. The other half is inward power to live by God's judgments. He asks for it again and again, always resting on God's tender mercies.
- Word. God's promise sets the measure of the new life he asks for. The word that first gave him life is the word he looks to for reviving it.
Salvation is far from the wicked; for they seek not thy statutes.
Psalm 119:155 states a hard fact, in a section where the writer is under attack and pleading with God to take up his case. The verse ties the distance of salvation not to a limit in God, but to something the wicked themselves never do.
The verse gives a reason for the distance. One writer traces it to what the wicked themselves do not feel:
"Salvation is far from the wicked" (v. 155). They recognize no need of salvation and have no interest in seeking God's statutes. They are so blind they have no idea of the greatness of God's tender mercies. But the psalmist has full confidence in those mercies, and so counts on God to revive him in line with His judgments.
Another writer states the same link the other way round, and adds the side the psalmist stands on:
The wicked has no thought of Jehovah, and so God is far from him. But how precious and sure His ear is, listening to the prayers of the righteous!
The writer has been asking God to plead his cause, and he admits he is weak as he asks. The wicked make the contrast: weakness is not the same as indifference:
The trouble he is in makes him look for rescue. So — since the wicked can have no hope of it — he asks God to take up his cause: yes, that Jehovah, who knows everything, would plead it Himself. He has not forgotten Jehovah's law, though from the start he admits that he needs Him to give him living energy, and God has pledged Himself to him for that very need. So his utter weakness is admitted: he does not need to hide it. But he is not among the wicked, who do not seek God's statutes.
Salvation here means rescue out of present trouble, and that is what the psalmist is asking for. One writer shows where his heart is by this point in the psalm:
The one who pours out his heart to God is now taken up far more with the persecutors and enemies, with God's deliverance, and with his need of help, than he was at the beginning… Still there is no uncertainty of heart. Salvation is needed — that is, deliverance now — but it is far from the wicked. Yet where the heart and the way are righteous, the affliction is a ground for pleading with God.
The psalmist asks for more than escape from his enemies. He also asks for power to live by the word he is standing on:
Along with deliverance, he also asks to be revived — for the practical power of a life that follows the word and the revealed judgments of God. When the heart loves righteousness, it asks for righteousness in liberty and power. He asks for outward security in the word, but for inward power too. Thinking of Jehovah's tender mercies, he asks to be revived in keeping with God's judgments. The felt goodness of God always leads to a desire for His will.
- Cause — Salvation is far from the wicked because they do not seek God's statutes. The distance starts with their own lack of interest, not with a limit in God.
- Blindness — They feel no need, so they have no idea how great God's tender mercies are. The psalmist counts on those same mercies.
- Contrast — The psalmist is weak and afflicted, and says so. What separates him from the wicked is not strength, but that he has not forgotten God's law.
- Deliverance — The salvation in view is rescue now, out of real persecution. Where the heart and the way are right, the affliction becomes a ground for pleading with God.
- Life — Alongside rescue he asks to be revived. He wants outward security in the word and inward power to live by it, both from the same tender mercies.
Many are thy tender mercies, O Jehovah; quicken me according to thy judgments.
This part of the psalm is the prayer of a man under pressure, surrounded by people who despise God's word. In the middle of his trouble he names something bigger — the greatness of God's mercy — and he asks first for life, not rescue, measured by God's own rules.
The verse sits inside a section shaped by opposition. The psalmist does not answer his attackers; he holds his ground and takes his case to God.
The wicked surround him. They have no respect for God's Word, and they hate and persecute the godly. Still he remains faithful to God. As he says, "yet I do not swerve from your testimonies." He finds that his enemies are "many." Again he asks to be revived, or sustained in a life that follows the Word.
He does not ask once. The same request runs through the whole section.
Verses 153-160. Here he cries for deliverance from affliction, for the Lord to plead the cause of the righteous, and for redemption. Three times over (verses 154, 156, 159) he cries to be revived, so that life in the power of God's word becomes real in practice.
He has stayed on the path under attack. But he does not rest his plea on that record; he rests it on God's tender mercies.
So he throws himself again on Jehovah's tender mercies to get this living power — a life shaped by the judgments of His truth and holiness. His enemies are many, but they have not turned him away from the path of His testimonies, or from seeing things as He has declared them.
There is a movement in the verse from God's kindness to God's will, and one commentator traces it as a rule of the heart.
But along with deliverance he also asks to be revived — for the practical power of a life shaped by the word and revealed judgments of God… He seeks outward safety in the word, but inward power too. Thinking of Jehovah's tender mercies, he asks to be revived according to God's judgments. Feeling the goodness of God always leads to wanting His will.
The verse just before this one says salvation is far from the wicked. This verse names great mercies — and the wicked cannot see them.
"Salvation is far from the wicked" (v. 155). They recognize no need of salvation and have no interest in seeking God's statutes. They are so blind they have no idea of the greatness of God's tender mercies. But the psalmist has full confidence in those mercies, and counts on God therefore to revive him (v. 156) in accordance with His judgments.
The psalmist is already alive, so what is he asking for? Older translations put his request as "quicken me." Writers point out that he wants renewed strength of life, not life he never had.
The Psalmist says that God's Word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he asks to be quickened. He uses the word here mainly to mean being revived, being restored to stronger life.
Another writer adds one thing: the life he asks for takes its character from God's own mind.
Still he looked to God, as we shall — with a true heart, in distress (Christ Himself did the same, so that He might be heard), and counting on the kindness of Jehovah. But he wanted God to work with power in him: to be quickened, to receive life according to the mind of God. That is, a life whose nature and desires match God's judgment. He does not speak as a dead man; he speaks of moral quickening.
The ESV's "rules" is what these writers call God's "judgments." Why is it safe to have a life measured by them? Because they carry His own character.
Jehovah's word is what Jehovah is: if He is righteous, so are His judgments. And so are His testimonies, whatever they are about: He can only be a faithful witness in whatever He has chosen to testify about.
- Pressure. A man under attack speaks this verse. He refuses to turn from God's testimonies and takes his case to God instead of answering his enemies.
- Mercies. His plea rests not on his own faithfulness but on the greatness of God's tender mercies — the very thing the wicked are too blind to see.
- Life. "Give me life" asks for reviving, for restored strength. The same cry comes three times in this short section.
- Shape. The life he asks for is life according to the mind of God — inward power to match the outward security he seeks in the word.
- Measure. God's judgments are a safe measure because they carry His own character: if He is righteous, so are they.
Many are my persecutors and mine oppressors; I have not declined from thy testimonies.
In this part of Psalm 119 the writer is under open attack. He counts the people lined up against him, and in the same breath says he has not moved. The verse holds two facts together: the opposition is large, and his hold on God's word is unbroken.
He does not soften the number or the hostility. One commentator sets the verse beside the wicked who surround him:
He is surrounded by the wicked. They have no respect for God's Word, and they hate and persecute the godly. Still he remains faithful to God, as he says, "I do not swerve from Your testimonies." He finds that his enemies are "many." Again he asks God to revive him, and to sustain him in a life that follows the Word.
He faces their strength without letting it change his course. One writer names what they are after:
He does not underestimate the strength of his many persecutors and enemies. But he will not let them intimidate him. That is exactly what they intend, so that he would turn from obeying God's testimonies. This is the faith that overcomes the world (1 John 5:4).
Another writer puts their failure in terms of a path:
His adversaries are many. But they have not turned him aside from the path of His testimonies, or from seeing things as He has declared them to be.
Standing firm here does not take the form of self-defence. Earlier in the same section the writer asks God to take up the dispute for him:
The psalmist knows that God is not indifferent to the trials of those who stay faithful to His Word. So he asks the Lord to look on his affliction. And the interest of God's people must be God's own interest, so the psalmist can put his case into God's hands. He does not try to answer his enemies. He asks God to plead his cause, to deliver him from his afflictions, and to keep his soul in the energy of life.
This steady refusal sits inside eight verses that keep returning to one request:
Here the cry is for deliverance from affliction, for the Lord to plead the cause of the righteous, and for redemption. Three times over (verses 154, 156, 159) he cries out to be revived, so that life in the power of God's word might be real in practice.
The three requests do not all rest on the same ground, and one writer reads the repetition as a confession:
The weakness of the flesh is such that for the third time in this section he asks the Lord to revive him, this time according to His lovingkindness. The first time (v. 154) he asks according to God's Word, and the second time according to His judgments (v. 156). So he admits his own weakness and need, yet this is the true character of the overcomer.
The verse is quoted elsewhere among a run of lines from this psalm about facing enemies, where God's word is treated as the two things a person under attack most needs:
If they were without the normal guidance and protection, which that twofold provision represents, he was not only not to eat but to hold them as a horror. But all that had divine direction and protection, he could freely use and appropriate fearlessly… "Many are my persecutors and my oppressors: I have not declined from Your testimonies."
Another writer explains the peace this psalm speaks of, starting with what it does not mean:
Peace here is not the absence of outward conflict. We have seen some of the troubles and problems the psalmist was facing, and there were many…
- Many. He counts his persecutors and adversaries honestly. He does not underestimate their strength.
- Aim. They mean to intimidate him, so that he will turn from obeying God's testimonies.
- Unmoved. They never turned him aside from the path of God's testimonies. One writer calls this the faith that overcomes the world.
- Given over. He does not answer his enemies. He asks God to plead his cause, because the interest of God's people is God's own interest.
- Revived. Three times in these eight verses he asks for life — by God's word, by His judgments, and by His lovingkindness. Admitting weakness like this is the true character of the overcomer.
I beheld them that deal treacherously, and was grieved; because they kept not thy word.
Psalm 119 praises God's word through the whole Hebrew alphabet. By this late section, the people around the writer ignore that word. He does not shrug. He hurts. Older translations render his reaction as grief rather than disgust, which is why the writers below speak of grief.
The writer's answer to the people around him is sorrow. One commentator ties that sorrow to his own loyalty:
Faithful to the Lord and His Word, he shrinks from the ways of the transgressors who care nothing for the Word. Their ways are a grief to the godly man.
These are not people who simply slip up. One writer describes men who cannot be trusted, and names what they are walking away from.
The treacherous character of the ungodly (v. 158) disgusts him. Such men have no intention of keeping God's Word, and that Word is the only safe refuge anyone has.
Another writer watches the psalmist turn from what he saw to what he loves:
He had watched with grief the faithlessness of those who did not keep these sayings. And he invites the Lord Himself to see how he loves His precepts. His own nature still drags behind, and for that he asks a third time to know His life-giving power.
Hatred of evil can come from a sour heart. One commentator finds a different root here, and a different future for each side:
If he hates the evil of transgressors, it is because he loves the truth. So the psalmist can say, "I love your precepts." The evil that he hates will pass away. The truth that he loves will last forever.
This sorrow over other people's sin was not the psalmist's alone. One writer finds it in Jesus Himself.
He never sinned Himself, but it grieved Him much to see boys and girls, or men and women, sinning against God.
The psalmist's feeling also has a harder edge. One writer sets it beside a scene from the life of Christ:
This indignation is like the anger of the Lord Jesus with the Pharisees. They showed their hardness of heart by not even answering His question, "Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to destroy it?" (Luke 6:9). … This was not anger for the way He Himself was treated, but because God's Word was opposed and man's need despised.
The same pain has an obvious home in our own day. One commentator brings the verse straight into it:
The psalmist is hurt, he is deeply grieved, he weeps because he sees God's word being ignored. He has the deepest respect for God's honour. And surely one of the saddest trends in society today is the growing abandonment of God's standards as given in His word. … And this rejection of God's standards is grievous to those who truly love the Lord.
A verse about looking at other people carries an obvious danger. One writer turns the question back on the reader:
How easy it is to point the finger at somebody else and be grieved because they have said or done something wrong, and to forget about our own failures. Are we grieved when we sin, when we fail? It shows a tender conscience, a good conscience before God, a conscience enlightened by the truth. Then the moment there is any turning away from the will of God, it brings grief and concern.
- Love first. The grief is not sourness. He hates the evil here because he loves the truth — and the truth outlasts the evil.
- Faithless, not just flawed. The people he sees are treacherous men with no intention of keeping God's word — the one safe refuge there is.
- God's honour, not ours. The pain comes from seeing God's word ignored. Christ felt the same, angered by opposition to God's word rather than by His own treatment.
- Grief drives prayer. After looking at the faithless, the psalmist asks God to look at his love for His precepts. A third time in this section, he asks for new life.
- Turn it inward. A conscience tender enough to grieve over other people's sin should grieve over its own first.
See how I have loved thy precepts quicken me, O Jehovah, according to thy loving-kindness.
By verse 159 the writer is surrounded by people who ignore God's word. He asks God to look at his love for His precepts — then asks for life on a completely different ground.
He asks God Himself to look. One writer traces the path that leads to that request:
His adversaries are many, but they have not turned him aside from the path of His testimonies, from recognising things as He has declared them. He had watched with grief the faithlessness of those who did not keep these sayings. And he invites the Lord Himself to see how he loves His precepts — whatever the slowness of his nature, for which, for the third time, he asks that he may know His quickening power.
The verses just before this one grieve over people who break God's word. One writer traces that grief back to its root:
If the evil of transgressors is hated, it is because the truth is loved. So the psalmist can say, "I love your precepts." The evil that he hates will pass away; the truth that he loves will endure for ever.
Older translations read "quicken me." One writer explains why nothing less will do, and what the word means:
God must act. But how must He act? Will reformation, education or instruction meet our case? Not at all: there can be nothing until He quickens, for quickening simply means the giving of life. The very word translated "quicken" in the New Testament is made up of the noun "life" and the verb "to make" — to make to live.
The same writer weighs that repetition, and settles where quickening belongs in God's work:
The psalmist says that God's word has quickened him in verse 50, yet again and again he desires to be quickened. The word is clearly used more in the sense of being revived, of being restored to more vigorous life. … Until God quickens us by His power we are dead. Quickening is the very beginning of His work in us, not the climax.
He asks for life three times in this short section, each time on a different ground. Our verse holds the third:
Certainly God fully answers such a prayer as "Consider how I love your precepts." Yet the flesh is weak. So for the third time in this section he asks the Lord to revive him — this time according to His lovingkindness. The first time (v. 154) he asks according to God's word, and the second time according to His judgments (v. 156). So he admits his own weakness and need, and yet this is the true character of the overcomer.
So his love for the precepts is what he asks God to notice; God's own steadfast love is what he asks God to act by.
Love like this is not natural to man. One writer traces it to a work of God in the heart:
How different is the spirit of Psalm 119. At Sinai the law came to men in the flesh, and they loathed it and rebelled against it; in Psalm 119 the writer delights in the law of God. Clearly he is the subject of the new birth. He anticipates in himself the blessing Israel will know in a future day, when the Lord will say, "I will put my laws on their hearts, and write them on their minds" (Hebrews 10:16).
Another writer brings the same delight into the present day:
Though we are not "under law but under grace," yet we delight in it and 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 it, and in the One who has borne its curse for him upon the tree.
- Love — Delight in God's precepts is not natural. It marks a heart God has changed. That same heart grieves over those who break His word.
- Look — "Consider" invites God Himself to inspect that love. The psalmist is willing to have his inner life examined.
- Ask — Even so, he asks for life a third time in this section, admitting the slowness of his own nature.
- Ground — He appeals to God's lovingkindness, not to his own love. The three pleas rest on God's word, then His judgments, then His steadfast love.
- Life — The word behind "give me life" means "to make to live." Here it asks for revival — a restoring to more vigorous life.
The sum of thy word is truth, and every righteous judgment of thine is for ever.
The psalmist ends this section of Psalm 119 with a verdict rather than a plea: God's word, taken as a whole, is truth. Older translations read "your word is true from the beginning," while the ESV has "the sum of your word is truth" — both treat the verse as a claim about the whole Bible, not about one part of it.
One writer ties the two halves of the verse together — the word as a whole, and the judgments that rest on God's own nature:
The whole of His word is truth. Every one of His righteous judgments has its foundation in His own nature, and each one lasts as long as He Himself lasts.
Another writer shows what happens when a reader keeps part of it and drops the rest:
And His word is absolute truth. Weak belief in one part of the truth means weak belief in all of it. Though it holds sixty-six books written by almost as many writers over many centuries, it forms one single whole. It is like an arch. Take out one stone and the whole thing is weakened.
Why is God's word true? One commentator answers from who God is:
Jehovah's word is what Jehovah is: if He is righteous, so are His judgments. And so too are His testimonies, whatever their nature: He cannot be anything but a faithful witness, in whatever it has pleased Him to give any testimony.
The verse says God's rulings last forever. One writer sets God's word beside everything that fades:
Man fades, and his glory passes so quickly. Is it not a great blessing to know that God has given us something that endures? It is His own word, which lives and abides forever. That gives our souls a solid resting place, while we feel surrounded by quicksand and an endless swamp of human opinion and man-made religion. We have this word, thank God. When the created heavens and earth have passed away, it will shine as brightly as ever, in all its lasting clearness and worth. When the saved are enjoying eternal happiness without a break, and the wicked are shut up in everlasting punishment, the word of the Lord will still be the same.
Love for the truth and hatred of evil belong together. One writer draws the link:
If a person hates the evil that wrongdoers do, it is because he loves the truth. So the psalmist can say, "I love your precepts." The evil that he hates will pass away; the truth that he loves will endure for ever.
How much of the Bible is true? One commentator leaves no room to negotiate:
But God's word IS true. Every single word as originally given is true. Nothing in it is or can be false; we can rely on it and its truthfulness completely.
If it is all true, its authority reaches into every part of life. Another writer turns that into a prayer:
Oh, for a deeper sense of the fullness, majesty, and authority of the Word of God! We very much need strengthening on this point. We want a deep, bold, vigorous, influential, and lasting sense of the supreme authority of what God has written. We want to be sure it is completely enough for every age, every place, every position, every area — personal, social, and church-related. Then we can withstand every effort by the enemy to lower the value of that priceless treasure.
- Source. God's word is what God is. A righteous God cannot give unrighteous judgments, and He can only be a faithful witness.
- Sum. The truth is the whole of His word, not selected parts — sixty-six books forming one arch, and pulling out one stone weakens the whole.
- Stability. His judgments rest on His own nature, so they last as long as He does. When heaven and earth have gone, His word will shine as brightly as ever.
- Strength. The psalmist hated the evil around him because he loved the truth. That evil will pass; the truth he loved endures forever.
- Submission. Every word is true, and nothing in it can be false. So its authority covers every age, place and position — personal, social and church-related alike.
SHIN. Princes have persecuted me without a cause; but my heart standeth in awe of thy word.
Psalm 119:161 sets two powers side by side: rulers who attack for no reason, and a word that makes the heart bow. Which of the two rules the man praying?
The man speaking here is not describing one bad day. Across the psalm, enemies press him from every side, and hostile rulers are only one part of it.
He is surrounded by transgressors that grieve his spirit (v. 158), and enemies that oppress him (v. 134). Princes speak against him (v. 23), and persecute him without a cause (v. 161). The proud mock him (v. 51), invent lies against him (v. 69), and dig pits to bring him down (v. 85). The wicked set traps for his feet (v. 110), and lie in wait to destroy him (v. 95)... In the eyes of the world he is little and despised (v. 141).
The verse sets up a contrast. Princes hold real power, and they use it. But the heart trembles at something higher.
The great ones of this world may persecute the godly without a cause; but for the believer the authority of the Word of God is above the authority of man. He trembles at the Word of God rather than stand in awe of the power of princes. For him God's Word is supreme in its authority.
Where the two collide, the path stays clear, though it may cost something. Obedience also reshapes the person who obeys.
If God's word and the ruler's demand collide, the believer's path is clear. He must obey God, but perhaps in suffering, not in resistance to authority... By nature the believer might be weak and timid. Obedience by grace gives him strength and courage. He might be self-confident and stubborn. Obedience gives him distrust of self, and meekness in doing God's will.
Standing in awe of the word sounds like cringing fear. The writer below starts somewhere else: with what happens every time we open the Bible.
Every time we open our Bibles, we step (as it were) into the throne room of God's majesty. In the written Word (which suits every age, for it is never out-of-date) we hear the voice of God. Since this is true, we should seek a prepared heart before we read even a single page. Only the Holy Spirit can give it... It is not the dread of a slave. It is a sense of the greatness of the One who speaks to us, and of how serious it is to disobey His voice.
Verse 161 does not stand alone. The next line in the psalm speaks of rejoicing over the word like someone who has found great spoil.
The heart stands in awe of God's word — a godly feeling. It comes with God's authority; yet he rejoices in it as one that has found great spoil. The connection of these two is what marks the true, full understanding of the word. It is God's — a most solemn thing; the soul trembles at His word. It comes with divine and absolute authority. But it is God's word, and we have a new nature, and God Himself teaches us. So we delight beyond words in what comes from Him and reveals Him.
The heart's awe rests on two things: who speaks, and what He says.
We stand in awe of something that is magnificent, or someone who can perform marvellous feats. When we reflect on God's word it is awesome, isn't it? God is infinite and indescribable. He is outside of time and space, all powerful, all knowing, the creator of everything. That He should choose to reveal Himself to us through words: that is awesome. And what He tells us through His word is awesome too. He loves us so much that He gave Himself, so that He can make terrible, unholy rebels like us acceptable to Him.
The stanza that opens with unjust persecution does not end there.
The Psalmist exclaims, "Princes persecute me without cause," and then finds rejoicing and peace as he adds, "I hope for your salvation, O LORD" (Psalm 119:161 and 166).
- Pressure. Princes attack for no reason. Enemies also mock the psalm's speaker, lie about him and hem him in on every side.
- Preference. Faced with two authorities, he trembles at God's word, not at the power of princes. Where the two clash, obeying God may mean suffering, not resistance.
- Posture. This awe is not a slave's dread. It is a sense of the greatness of the One who speaks, and of how serious it is to ignore Him.
- Pleasure. Awe is not the whole response. Trembling at the word and rejoicing in it like found treasure belong together.
- Peace. The same section that names the persecution ends in hope for God's salvation. The word that commands awe also brings the rescue.
I have joy in thy word, as one that findeth great spoil.
The psalmist writes under pressure, hunted by powerful men without cause, and yet his heart is full of joy. He pictures a soldier finding a heap of plunder: why should God's word feel like sudden wealth rather than a duty?
What steadies him is not weak enemies. It is an authority higher than any prince.
The great ones of this world may persecute the godly without a cause. But for the believer, the authority of the Word of God is above the authority of man. He trembles at the Word of God rather than standing in awe of the power of princes. For him God's Word is supreme in its authority.
Spoil is the mixed haul a soldier carries off the field — coins, cloth, weapons, things he never worked for. One writer reads the image that way, and notices that the psalmist's next line shows the same word shaping his moral taste.
His heart stands in awe of that in which God Himself has spoken to his conscience. His heart also has responded to it, so that it has become to him like the rich and varied booty of the soldier. But more, his moral estimate of it is similar: it is the holiness of truth that attracts him in it, as he hates the falsehood which it also hates.
Another writer traces the same effect. The psalmist holds something real in his hands, so lying has nothing left to offer him.
It is God's Word that gives perfect rest. In it the believer finds great treasure (v. 162), so he might well rejoice. Having such a positive possession in his hands, how can he ever accept the hopeless negative of lying? (v. 163).
Plunder is not found lying in a field. It is taken from a defeated enemy, and commentators apply that to what a believer gains through spiritual struggle.
The victory is not merely a repulse of the enemy, but an actual gaining of fresh stores. Faith always gathers fresh riches from every conflict. The spoil of the enemy does not rightly belong to them, but to those who overcome them. This spoil may well remind us of the fresh views of Christ we gain from the very conflict we have entered for Him.
The joy of the verse belongs to someone who finds. Finding takes searching, and searching takes work.
Gold does not always lie on the surface of the earth. For the most part gold mining needs hard, steady work: digging, searching, setting aside all that is only soil, and watching for the precious ore. Let us search the Word of God with the same diligence. Below the surface lie rich nuggets of truth, ready to reward the earnest persistence of faith.
One writer sets joy in the Word beside trembling at it. Together they test how we handle Scripture.
Yes, we may rejoice in the Word "as much as in all riches"; "like one who finds great spoil"; "for they are the rejoicing of my heart" (Ps. 119:14, 162, 111). But the holy Word of God also speaks with authority to our hearts and consciences. Are we "trembling" at His Word, and trying to order our lives according to it? Or do we try to adjust God's Word to our behaviour when we have already departed from it to some degree?
History repeats this reaction. Martin Luther was a monk who thought the church's prayer books held everything God had said. Then he found a full Bible in a university library.
He read and read again, with ever-growing wonder. From that day it was to him the Book above all other books that the university, or even the world, had. In the language of the Book itself, he "rejoiced" at God's word, "like one who finds great spoil."
- Pressure — Princes persecute him without cause. Yet the believer's awe rests on the Word, not on the power of men.
- Plunder — "Great spoil" is the soldier's rich and varied haul. He did not earn it; the victory made it his.
- Conflict — Faith gathers fresh riches from every battle. What we win in conflict is a fresh view of Christ.
- Digging — Gold seldom lies on the surface. The joy of finding belongs to those who search, sift and persist.
- Trembling — Real joy in the Word goes with trembling at it. We adjust our lives to Scripture, not Scripture to our lives.
I hate and abhor falsehood; thy law do I love.
Just before this verse, the psalm writer says that God's word fills him with awe and with joy. That double attitude produces this line: a fierce hatred of one thing, and love for another.
This hatred is not a personality trait. It is what Scripture does to a person who lives under it. One writer lists it as the second result.
Second, it leads him to discern between good and evil, and so to abhor the false and love the truth (v. 163).
This part of the psalm pairs trembling at God's word with delight in it. One writer ties that pair to a heart that both hates and loves, and then praises.
The heart stands in awe of God's word — a godly feeling. It comes with God's authority; yet he rejoices in it as one who has found great spoil. This connection between the two marks the true, full grasp of the word. It is God's — a most solemn thing; the soul trembles at His word. It comes with divine and absolute authority. But it is God's word, we have a new nature, and God Himself teaches us. So we delight in it in a way words cannot express, because it is His and it reveals Him. And there is no blurring of good and evil… He hates and loves — he hates lying and loves the law. The law is not merely what is right; it is God's authoritative expression of what is right. And all this produces praise, because the heart rises up to the source of these things.
The verse uses two words where one would do. One writer explains the doubling by what the man already holds.
It is God's Word that gives perfect rest, and in it the believer finds great treasure (v. 162), so he has every reason to rejoice. Holding such a positive possession, how could he ever accept the hopeless emptiness of lying? (v. 163). In fact he hates lying, and he stresses it by saying he abhors it, which means intense hatred.
One writer widens what is hated to anything that fails the test of Scripture, and aims the hatred at the wrong, not at people.
We are to hate what the Lord hates — not the persons, but the deeds… Everything not according to Holy Scripture is a false way, empty, a lie. We should hate it, even if it can claim great age and comes to us from the church fathers.
One writer names the places where even honest men still allow lying, and warns Christians against thinking they are immune.
Some men of the world would be ashamed to lie in daily life, and they are hard on it in others. Yet they overlook it in politics and — religion! But "the righteous hates falsehood" wherever it is found, and most of all in what concerns Him who is the Truth. No wonder — the word of truth brought him forth, the truth sanctifies him, and he grows by it day by day… Yet no one is more tempted by Satan to betray the truth. No deception ever did more damage than the idea that a Christian is immune to falsehood and always speaks the truth.
One writer traces lying back to its source, and this hatred of it back to God's work in a person.
Satan is the father of lies. Those who are marked by lying in life and in speech may read their doom here, unless they come to the One who can save and sanctify them… Neither pride, nor deceit, nor lying will mark these servants. They take hold of the glorious name of the Lord and with true confidence rejoice in Him, in whom their righteousness is. Through God's work in them they are also able to say, "I hate and abhor falsehood, but I love your law."
- Source. The hatred is not native to the man. The Word he reveres teaches him to tell good from evil, and then he abhors the false and loves the truth.
- Pairing. Trembling at God's word and rejoicing in it belong together. That pair makes one heart that both hates and loves.
- Intensity. He doubles "hate" with "abhor" because he already holds great treasure. Lying is a hopeless emptiness he has no reason to accept.
- Reach. His hatred covers every false way: anything not according to Scripture, however old and respected — the deeds, never the persons.
- Result. Hating the lie and loving the law ends in praise, as the heart rises to the God whose word gave it both.
Seven times a day do I praise thee because of thy righteous judgments.
Psalm 119 keeps circling one subject: God's word, under many different names. Here, near the psalm's close, that word breaks into song. The writer is under pressure from powerful enemies. Yet he fills his day with praise, not complaint, and the reason he gives is God's righteous rules.
The verse sits in a stanza that runs from verse 161 to 168. That stanza holds two things together: hostility from those in power, and a heart at rest in what God has said.
Verses 161-168. The leaders of God's earthly people were persecutors of the just, instead of being administrators of righteousness. But the hearts of the righteous rested on God's word. They rejoiced in it, had great peace, praised seven times a day, and hoped for the salvation of the Lord. Obedience and hatred of falsehood marked the faithful few, who lived under the eye of the Lord.
The praise here is not worked up. It is listed among the results that follow when a life is put under the authority of Scripture.
The psalmist recounts the blessings that flow to the one whose life is governed by the supreme authority of the Word... Third, it calls forth constant praise throughout the day (v. 164).
"Seven times" is not a rule about clock hours. One writer takes the number as a mark of completeness, and traces the praise back to the rest and treasure the believer finds in God's word.
It is God's Word that gives perfection of rest. In it the believer finds great treasure (v. 162), so that he might well rejoice... Seven times a day (a complete number) he praises the Lord because of His righteous judgments (v. 164).
The verse gives the reason for the praise. The ESV calls it God's "righteous rules"; older translations say "righteous judgments." So what are they?
The judgments of His righteousness are the decisions He makes about right and wrong. Those decisions express the righteous character of God and carry it out. We have much to learn about His "judgments". We must learn that He always judges rightly. He never judges at random, and never with prejudice, as men do. We must learn from Him now, here on earth, how to judge as He judges. Then later, when we reign with Him for a thousand years, we will be able to put into practice what we have learned. Whatever He thinks best is good and right. That holds even when He must discipline us, as a tender and compassionate Father.
Praising God for His judgments would be strange if His commandments were only a threat. In this psalm they have become something else entirely.
Psalm 119 has 176 verses, and no less than 174 of them mention the law of God under different names — law, commandments, precepts, testimonies, judgments, statutes, ordinances, word, way, path. Whatever name the law may go by, it is no longer condemnation and the threat of death. It is perfect delight and liberty.
The same writer sets verse 164 beside the psalm's other time markers. The picture is a man whose praise runs from before dawn into the night.
He is ever at it. "Seven times a day" does he praise the Lord (v. 164). Before daybreak he cried, "I hoped in Your Word." At night he gives up sleep through the night hours, as he says, "that I might meditate in Your Word" (v. 148).
One writer calls this praise a sacrifice, and not one saved for special occasions. Kept up all day, it crowds out the moods that fill the gaps.
The sacrifice we offer as holy priests is praise — "praise to God continually." This is not an occasional thing. It is not just at some specially favoured moment, when all looks bright and smiling around us. It is not to be only in the glow and warmth of some unusually powerful public meeting, when the current of worship flows deep, wide, and fast. No; the word is, "praise continually." There is no room, no time for complaining and murmuring, for fretfulness and discontent, impatience and irritability. There is no time for lamenting about our surroundings, whatever these may be, or complaining about the weather. There is no time for finding fault with the people around us, whether in public or in private, whether in the congregation, in business, or in the family circle.
- Pressure — the stanza opens with powerful men persecuting the righteous. The praise of verse 164 rises inside that pressure, not after it lifts.
- Cause — praise here is an effect, not an effort. God's word gives perfect rest and great treasure, and rejoicing follows.
- Measure — "seven times" reads as a complete number; the praise is full, with nothing held back.
- Reason — the "righteous judgments" are God's decisions on right and wrong. He never judges at random or with prejudice, and He is training us to judge as He does.
- Result — praise runs from before dawn into the night hours. A day that full leaves no gap for murmuring.
Great peace have they that love thy law, and nothing doth stumble them.
After 164 verses about God's word, the psalm states the result of a life shaped by it: deep peace, and a path with nothing to trip over. The claim is startling, because this same psalm is full of persecution, lies and near-destruction. So what peace does God promise here, and who receives it?
Many readers hear "law" and think of a list of rules. One writer says it means far more, and also marks off what the verse is not saying:
The peace here is not exactly "peace with God." The "law" in this passage is far wider than the Ten Commandments. It was God's revelation of His ways, as far as He chose to make them known in those days. It showed man the way of wisdom, righteousness, and peace. Those whose hearts it shaped enjoyed the blessing that always comes with knowing God and His ways, however partial that knowledge had to be then.
The verse sits in a section that opens with princes persecuting the psalmist. One commentator lists the blessings that follow when a person puts God's word above every other voice:
The great ones of this world may persecute the godly without a cause. But for the believer the authority of the Word of God stands above the authority of man. He trembles at God's Word rather than standing in awe of the power of princes… The psalmist then recounts the blessings that flow to the one whose life is governed by the supreme authority of the Word. First, the Word becomes the joy of his heart, as he discovers the treasures it holds, like someone finding great spoil.
This peace does not mean an easy life. Commentators differ on whether it includes peace with God, and one states it plainly:
His life was full of outward troubles, and God did not keep him from them — but he was at peace. As someone who loved God's law he was at peace. He had peace with God and peace within himself.
The second half of the verse promises a path clear of obstacles. One writer links that clear path with a heart that praises God all day for His righteous judgments:
All through the day God's word lifts up his heart in praise, because of the judgments he sees to be those of divine righteousness… For "Great peace have those who love your law," and their path is free of the stumbling blocks that others fall over.
The same writer applies the verse elsewhere to the worry of not seeing results in God's service:
But when we walk in God's path — and know that we are there — results are in His hand… The servant of God can be sure that the power to carry out the purposes of unfailing wisdom is in His hand. So he may be at rest.
This peace belongs to a life of obedience. One commentator adds that it holds even when others misjudge that life:
Nothing in all this world is more deeply blessed than the path and portion of an obedient soul. "Great peace have those who love your law; nothing can make them stumble." The lowly disciple, who finds his food and drink in doing the will of his beloved Lord and Master, has a peace the world can neither give nor take away. True, others may misunderstand him and misrepresent him. They may call him narrow and bigoted, and things like that. But none of these things move him.
The New Testament has a verse that sounds similar. Whoever loves his brother "abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling." One commentator says the two promises are not the same:
Compare also Psalm 119:165 and 1 John 2:10, and note the difference in the character of the blessing. In the Psalm, and the legal blessing to the righteous man, there is nothing that makes him fall — and a true blessing it is. But in John, where grace is in question, and we walk in love, there is nothing in us that causes another to fall.
- Love first. God promises this peace to those who love His law, not just to those who know it.
- Wider than rules. "Law" here means God's revealed ways as a whole — the way of wisdom, righteousness and peace for man. Commentators differ on whether the verse speaks of peace with God itself.
- Peace inside, storm outside. God did not spare the psalmist his enemies, lies or robbery. The peace held anyway, because it did not depend on circumstances.
- A clear path. Those who live by the word walk free of the obstacles that trip up others. That includes the worry over results, which are in God's hand.
- Obedience is the road. The peace belongs to the obedient soul. It holds even when others misunderstand him.
I have hoped for thy salvation, O Jehovah, and have done thy commandments.
Powerful men are hunting the psalmist, and his answer is to look ahead to God's rescue while he keeps obeying. What is the "salvation" he hopes for, and how does obedience fit with waiting?
The salvation these songs ask for has a clear shape and a clear deliverer:
The believers in the Psalms hope and pray for salvation — which means to be saved from their enemies. This salvation will come about through the intervention of Messiah and the destruction of those enemies.
A few lines earlier, the psalmist names his trouble: powerful men hunt him without cause. Hope of salvation is his reply:
Salvation is a theme running throughout Scripture... In many cases salvation appears where enemies are present. In fact the first time the word appears, it comes in the face of the enemy's attack and the setback that follows. Facing that, Jacob exclaims, "I wait for your salvation, O LORD" (Genesis 49:18). The Psalmist cries out, "Princes persecute me without cause." Then he finds rejoicing and peace as he adds, "I hope for your salvation, O LORD" (Psalm 119:161 and 166).
Hope lifts the eyes above two things at once — hostile rulers and hard circumstances:
Fifth, it leads the soul to look beyond the opposition of princes, and the trials of circumstances, and wait in hope for the salvation of the Lord (v. 166).
The same writer sets hope among the other things that grow when God's Word rules a life:
So the Word holds its place of supremacy over his soul. The godly man then has joy in the Word, hatred of evil, continual praise, great peace, hope in the Lord, obedience to the Lord, and openness before the Lord.
The verse puts hope and obedience side by side. One writer explains why that hope can never end in disappointment:
The believer sets his hope firmly on God's salvation. Of course such hope will never be disappointed (v. 166), for it goes with a settled purpose of heart to do God's commandments.
Running through this whole psalm is a man in trouble who never once considers another door:
Notice here that all the way through there is no thought of looking, in difficulty or trial, to anything but God. The faithful ask for help to keep the law and for deliverance from trial because of it. But they have not the smallest idea of turning anywhere else; it does not even occur to them. This is true integrity of heart. God in truth, God in His will, God in mercy, God Himself as the object: they seek God alone, nothing outside or away from Him... And they trusted the word He had sent to us as well as obeyed it.
The second half of the verse — "I do your commandments" — describes a life shaped by Scripture and lived in God's sight:
This word has been worked into his everyday life. He has waited in hope for the salvation it promises. He has obeyed its commandments. He loves the testimonies it gives, and loves them deeply. He keeps its precepts as a man open in all things to Him before whom he walks. It is a blessing beyond words to walk like this in the Eternal Light of that glorious Presence, before we enter the joy of His presence itself.
Hope in the Bible is not a wish that might fail. One commentator shows what a Christian is still waiting for, and why it is certain:
The hope which is ours is the "hope of salvation." Scripture never speaks of the Christian as hoping for forgiveness of sins, but it does speak of him as hoping for salvation. Salvation is a word of large meaning. It takes in the final deliverance which will reach us at the coming of the Lord. For that we hope; that is, we await it with expectation. It is certain to arrive at the right time, because no hope founded on God and His word has any element of uncertainty in it.
- Pressure. The cry for salvation rises where enemies are real. Princes persecute without cause, and hope in the Lord is the answer.
- Rescue. In the Psalms, "salvation" means rescue from enemies, and the Messiah brings it.
- Lift. Hope raises the eyes above hostile rulers and hard circumstances. It waits for the Lord's deliverance.
- Work. Waiting is never idle. Real hope carries a settled purpose to obey, and the Word gets worked into daily life.
- Certainty. A hope founded on God and His word has no element of uncertainty in it — it is sure to arrive in its season.
My soul hath kept thy testimonies, and I love them exceedingly.
Powerful men are hounding the writer of this psalm. His answer is not to fight back but to hold on, and that raises two questions: what does it mean to keep God's word with the soul, and why is love named after the keeping?
He does not only say that he obeyed. He names the part of him that did the obeying.
He does not only keep God's testimonies with his body. He keeps them in his soul, which involves his inmost affections and motives. He underlines this when he says that he loves those testimonies exceedingly.
Awe and delight sound like opposites. Here they meet in the same heart, over the same word.
The heart stands in awe of God's word — a godly feeling. It comes with God's authority, yet he rejoices in it like someone who has found great spoil. Holding these two together marks the true, full grasp of the word. Because it is God's word, and we have a new nature and are taught of God, we delight beyond words in what is His and reveals Him. He hates and he loves — he hates lying and loves the law; not merely what is right, but God's authoritative expression of it. And all this produces praise, because the heart rises up to the source of these things.
Verse 166 says he hopes for salvation; verse 167 says he has kept the testimonies. The salvation has not yet arrived, and obedience is what fills the waiting.
Fifth, it leads the soul to look past the opposition of princes and the trials of circumstances. It leads him to wait in hope for the salvation of the Lord (v. 166). Sixth, while he waits for the Lord's deliverance, he submits and obeys the Lord's words (v. 167).
The verses here move as one piece: hoping, obeying, loving, then living openly before God. One writer traces how the word reached this man's daily practice.
This word has been worked into his practical life. He has waited in hope for the salvation it assures him of. He has obeyed its commandments. He loves the testimonies it gives exceedingly. He keeps its precepts as a man who is open in all things before the God in whose sight he walked. What unspeakable blessedness to walk like this in the Eternal Light of that glorious Presence, before we enter the joy of the presence-chamber itself.
The verse names keeping first and love second. The Lord Jesus joined the two in both directions.
Love and obedience are the great qualifications for entrance into these deeper experiences. Already the Lord has said, "If you love me, you will keep my commandments." Now He says, "Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me." It has been truly said that the first presents love as the spring of obedience, and the second presents obedience as the proof of love.
This verse is one link in a chain. The whole section shows what follows when Scripture holds the highest place in a life.
So the Word holds its place of supremacy over his soul. The result is that the godly man has joy in the Word, hatred of evil, continual praise, great peace, hope in the Lord, obedience to the Lord, and openness before the Lord.
- Supremacy first. God's Word outranks the princes who oppose him. Everything else in these verses grows out of that one settled place given to Scripture.
- Soul, then hands. He keeps the testimonies in his soul — in his affections and motives. Obedience here is not outward only. The inner life moves the same way as the outward act.
- Love that takes sides. Loving God's law and hating lying are one response, not two. The heart that delights in His word turns from what is false.
- Obedience in the waiting room. He still hopes for salvation; it has not come yet (v. 166). He fills the wait by keeping His words.
- Exceedingly, then openly. Love carried this far ends in a life with nothing hidden. He walks in the light of God's presence before he ever enters it.
I have kept thy precepts and thy testimonies; for all my ways are before thee.
Psalm 119 closes its twenty-first section with two claims at once. The writer has kept what God commanded — and he knows God has watched him do it. Obedience and God's watching eye stand together here. Does that all-seeing gaze threaten an honest heart, or comfort it?
The verses just before this one name the blessings of a life under God's word: joy, praise, peace, hope, hatred of what is false. One writer reads verses 162 to 168 as a single chain:
The psalmist recounts the blessings that flow to the one whose life is governed by the supreme authority of the Word.
Verse 168 is the seventh and final link in that chain, and it moves from what the man does to what God sees:
Seventh, walking in obedience to the Lord, there is nothing in his life hidden from God. He can say, "All my ways are before you" (v. 168).
"Precepts" and "testimonies" are two of this psalm's words for what God has said. Another writer explains what keeping them means, and ties it to God's watching eye:
So God's testimonies and precepts are not treated carelessly, but kept as permanent possessions. How could a believer ever give up such riches in glory? Indeed, he adds, "all my ways are before you." The very aim of every step he takes is the pleasure of the God before whom he walks.
Obedience alone is not the whole of the verse. Another writer finds a second mark of a godly walk here, and traces the same principle into Paul's words:
Here is another element of a godly walk besides obedience. "All my ways are before you" — this leads to obedience, but the heart and conscience are all before God too. It is a most important principle. So Paul says, "We are made manifest to God"; only this goes further... Paul himself was made manifest, as all men will be, before the judgment seat of Christ, who as Son of man judges perfectly every secret feeling, bringing the heart itself out.
Commentators differ in emphasis. One reads the line as a life with nothing hidden. The other presses it further, into the searching of motives and inward feelings.
This confidence is not spoken from a comfortable life. One summary of this whole section describes who held power at the time:
The leaders of God's earthly people should have administered righteousness. Instead they were found persecuting the just. But the hearts of the righteous rested on God's word. They rejoiced in it, had great peace, praised seven times a day, and hoped for the salvation of Jehovah. Obedience and hatred of what is false marked the remnant, who lived under the eye of the Lord.
When human judges are unjust, God's all-seeing eye stops being a threat. It becomes the sufferer's comfort.
God knows our ways whether we think about it or not. One writer points to David's prayer, and to what that knowledge does to a life:
David cries out to God, "Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!" The fact is, of course, that God knows all about me at all times, whether I am sleeping or waking, whether I am conscious that His eyes are upon me or not. But once I grasp the truth that God knows everything, as the psalmist did, I shall want, like him, to walk always in the awareness of it. My heart will cry out to God that day by day I may walk with the light of His face shining on me. Then, in all I do and say, I shall have the happy assurance that God Himself is before me and all around me at every step of the way.
That awareness shows itself as honesty — nothing held back from God:
The child of God is only truly happy when he really lives in the light, before God, according to what God is. It is of the highest importance for spiritual prosperity that he keeps nothing back from his Father, and has no secrets before Him. God, who knows all things, knows our hearts, and in His presence we come to know for ourselves what our hearts really are.
- Authority first. The verse is the last of seven blessings that flow to a life governed by the supreme authority of God's word.
- Kept, not admired. Hold precepts and testimonies as permanent possessions, and let every step aim at pleasing the God who watches.
- Open, not only obedient. Obedience is not the whole of it. The heart and conscience are open before God too — the principle Paul carries further: "We are made manifest to God."
- Under pressure. The psalmist said this while unjust rulers persecuted him. Living under God's eye was his rest, not his fear.
- Conscious daily. God sees all our ways anyway. The blessing comes when we walk aware of it, keeping no secrets from our Father.
TAU. Let my cry come near before thee, Jehovah give me understanding according to thy word.
Psalm 119 ends not with a shout of victory but with a plea. The writer asks that his cry reach God. He asks that God give him understanding measured by His own word. This is a man in trouble. He asks for a mind shaped by Scripture before he asks for anything else.
Why does the psalm end this way? One commentator explains, and shows who these words speak for:
It may seem strange that in this last section of the psalm the psalmist is crying out for God to step into his troubles. We might expect him instead to end with the triumphant joy of blessing already received. But this is the language of Israel. They are suffering, just before the gracious deliverance God will give them at the time of the end. So it holds instruction that should appeal to Israel in a time of suffering. It also helps believers now who have not found the full knowledge of deliverance from the power of indwelling sin.
What does he want his cry to bring him? Light — and light from one source only:
Their cry goes up to Jehovah for light to break out from His word for them: there could be no true knowledge except through the Word, which also gives them life so that they can have it.
One commentator sums up both verses in one line:
(Verses 169-170) The prayer of the godly man for a mind formed by the Word of God, and for the Lord's deliverance from his trials.
The phrase "according to your word" carries weight. It names the measure of the understanding he wants. It also sets an order — cries first, praise afterwards:
When men have gone astray, cries and pleas come first, praises and testimony after. Still the cry and the plea is a godly one, though it comes out of need. He seeks understanding, intelligence — not exactly of the word, but according to it. It is that wisdom in discernment which those taught in God's word have. They see clearly in what is before them. No doubt it is God's mind and will they discern; but they discern in circumstances. They walk not as fools, but as wise. The word has formed their judgment.
If understanding could be earned by study alone, the verse would be unnecessary. One writer locates the real bottleneck elsewhere:
This is the secret of true intelligence: people do not understand the word by having brighter minds than others, but by a more obedient heart. It is the single-eyed desire to do the will of God that ensures intelligence of His word. And it is the Spirit of God who produces both the one and the other. It is our own will that darkens the understanding. Where the Spirit of God gives a soul the desire to please the Lord, the obstacle in the way of His word disappears. When by grace we want to do His will, the light of God is not withheld.
Will such a prayer be heard? The same commentator points to the psalmist's repeated word "let":
Four times the word "let" is used to ask God to step in, for the psalmist knows that only what God allows will be effective. Of course, God would fully allow his cry to come before Him, and He is glad to give His saints understanding according to His Word.
The verse is meant to be used. One writer ties it to how we handle Scripture, and to whom we should not trust:
This shows how vital it is to use Scripture prayerfully, as we may read in Luke 10:39 — 11:4 and Acts 6:4. "Let my cry come before you, O LORD; give me understanding according to your word!" This is as necessary to glorify Him in our souls as in our service of His name. "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." Zeal and energy without it expose us to constant danger. As men of God, we ought to trust neither our own hearts nor the direction of others. We ought to obey God rather than men.
- Cry first. Pleading comes before praise. A cry born out of need is still a godly cry, and the psalm ends with such cries.
- Understanding, not information. He asks for understanding according to the word — a judgment so formed by Scripture that he sees his own circumstances clearly.
- Obedience unlocks it. A more obedient heart understands the word, not a brighter mind. The Spirit produces both the desire and the discernment.
- God is willing. The psalmist prays "let," because only what God allows will work. And God is glad to give His people understanding according to His Word.
- Then the mouth opens. Prayer leads to praise, and praise to speaking to others. That order — cry, understanding, praise, testimony — is the pattern of the whole section.
Let my supplication come before thee deliver me according to thy word.
Psalm 119 ends with a section where the writer is still in trouble and still asking. Verse 170 is the second of two requests. First he asks that his cry reach God at all. Then he asks for rescue — rescue measured by what God has already said.
Verse 169 asks that a cry come near. Verse 170 asks with more force. Older translations call it a "supplication" where the ESV has "plea." One writer notes the rise in intensity, then points to the phrase that makes the prayer impossible to ignore:
In verse 170 the cry rises to supplication — and he asks for deliverance, also according to God's Word. How could God ever ignore a prayer like this one, made "according to His Word"? For God's Word will stand when all else fails.
Verse 170 asks with the word "let," and so do the verses around it. That is not weak praying. It is how a person prays who knows the outcome rests with God, not with the force of his own asking.
Four times he uses the word "let" as he longs for God to step in, for the psalmist knows that only what God allows will be effective. Of course, God would fully allow his cry to come before Him, and He is glad to give His saints understanding according to His Word.
The words "according to your word" ask for nothing beyond what God has already promised. One writer points to what happens when you pray with a Bible promise in hand:
You will find it the very strength of your soul to go before God with a verse from Scripture and say: "This is written in Your word. Because You cannot lie, I know that I have got that thing."
The same two requests run through the whole closing section — light from God's word, and the deliverance His word promises:
Their cry goes up to Jehovah, asking that light break out from His word for them. There could be no true knowledge except through the Word, and the Word also gives them life so that they may have that knowledge. They plead the promise of deliverance too. When He has delivered them and taught them His statutes, their lips will pour out praise.
Verse 170 asks; praise and public witness only come in the verses after it. That order holds a lesson about where our speaking to others should come from:
When men have gone astray, cries and supplications go first, praises and testimony after. Still the cry and supplication is a godly one, though it arises from need… Then the soul looks to be heard and delivered. Still its delight is in God's revealed will. The soul will praise when God has truly taught it — thankfulness comes first — because His will is our own portion first of all, and it comes from God. Then we are free to speak of it to others.
Another writer finds the same movement in the shape of the whole psalm.
The psalm opens with prayer, continues in praise, leading to testimony. This is ever the divine order.
The person praying verse 170 has not yet been rescued. Commentators read this closing section as the voice of a faithful group within Israel in a time of trial — still waiting, still asking:
Verses 169-176. Cries and supplication to Jehovah mark this closing section, because deliverance has not come yet. The remnant long for deliverance, divine help and salvation, and for the time when they shall praise God's righteousness, as taught of Him. In the middle of the trials there is delight in the law of the Lord, along with the confession of having gone astray and so needing God to seek them.
- Cry. The plea in verse 170 is stronger than the one before it. Need presses the words out, and need does not make a prayer less godly.
- Let. The asking stays open-handed. Only what God permits will take effect, and He gladly gives what His word has already offered.
- Word. "According to your word" is both the measure and the guarantee of the rescue. God will not ignore a prayer that asks for nothing beyond His promise, for that promise stands when all else fails.
- Order. Prayer comes first, praise follows deliverance, and testimony to others follows praise. We speak to people out of what we have first received from God.
- Waiting. This prayer comes in the dark, before any answer shows. Delight in God's word and honest confession of having wandered belong to that waiting, not only to the rescue.
My lips shall pour forth praise when thou hast taught me thy statutes.
This verse comes near the end of the longest psalm, right after the writer begs God to hear his cry and rescue him. He answers rescue with praise, not another plea — and the reason he gives is that God teaches him.
One commentator traces an order that runs through the whole psalm.
The result of his deliverance will be praise to God, and testimony to men. Praise and testimony can only flow from a soul that God has taught. So the psalmist says, "My lips shall utter praise, when You have taught me Your statutes." At once he adds, "My tongue shall speak of Your word." The psalm opens with prayer, continues in praise, and leads to testimony. This is always the divine order.
Note: the quotations here follow older translations ("when You have taught me Your statutes"); the ESV reads "for you teach me your statutes."
Verse 170 pleads for rescue. This verse does not plead at all.
In verse 170 the cry rises to earnest pleading — and he asks for deliverance, also according to God's Word. How can a prayer like this ("according to His Word") ever be ignored? For God's Word will stand when all else fails. So verse 171 is not prayer, but a declaration of a proper response, "My lips shall utter praise, for You teach me Your statutes."
Praise here has a condition: God's teaching. One writer draws out why thanks comes before speech.
When men have gone astray, cries and pleading come first, praise and testimony after… The soul will praise when God has truly taught it. Thankfulness comes first, because what He teaches is our own portion first of all, and comes from God. Then we have liberty to speak of it to others.
He presses the same principle on preachers and teachers.
This is an important principle too. No testimony, no preaching, no teaching is right teaching when the soul is not filled for itself first from God. The content may be sound, and it is still not right teaching. We must drink for ourselves so that rivers may flow. Indeed, everything else dries up the soul.
Teaching of this kind shows itself in how a person reads their own situation.
He asks for understanding — not exactly understanding of the word, but understanding according to it. This is the wisdom in discernment that those taught in God's word have. They see clearly what is in front of them. What they discern is God's mind and will, but they discern it in their own circumstances. They do not walk as fools, but as wise. The word has formed their judgment.
One writer defines the word the psalmist uses, and names the Teacher behind the teaching.
The Holy Spirit is our Teacher, and He can teach us the will of God through the means grace uses (John 14:26). So let us echo the prayer of the Psalmist to the Lord: "…teach me Your statutes", and remember that a statute means "a divine direction to secure our obedience, and to keep us from disobedience".
One writer, commenting on the same prayer back in verse 33, pairs it with a second one:
The desire of the soul to be taught by the Lord the way of His statutes — "Teach me, O Lord." Teaching, however, is not enough. We need the opened heart as well as the opened Scriptures. So comes the prayer, "Give me understanding."
Why lips? One writer sees the whole person at work here.
Every part of him is aflame with intense desire for God's thoughts for him. Every part of his body is called into service. They are like the strings of the harp of his soul, making melody to God as he rejoices in His law.
One writer sees this praise reaching the nations.
They plead the promise of deliverance too. When God has delivered them and taught them His statutes, their lips will pour out praise. And so they will. The last verse here implies, I think, their testimony to the nations… Their tongue will speak aloud of what God has said, and the world will hear it.
- Order — Prayer comes first, praise second, testimony third. One writer calls this the divine order. This verse stands between the cry and the song.
- Taught — Praise is conditional on teaching. A statute is a divine direction that secures obedience and keeps us from disobedience. The prayer "teach me" needs "give me understanding" with it.
- Filled — You must drink for yourself before rivers flow. No preaching or teaching is right teaching when the soul has not first been filled from God.
- Lips — Every part joins in, like strings on a harp. The lips are where the praise becomes loud enough for others to hear.
- Heard — What starts as thanks to God ends as testimony to the nations, until the world hears it.
My tongue shall speak aloud of thy word; for all thy commandments are righteousness.
Psalm 119 closes with a section where the writer is still in trouble and still asking God to hear him. Yet he already promises what his mouth will do once God has taught him. Verse 172 is that promise. His tongue will speak God's word, because every commandment God gives is right.
Some writers below use an older translation. Where the ESV has the tongue "sing," it has "speak" or "speak aloud." Where the ESV says the commandments are "right," it says they are "righteousness."
Verse 172 sits in the psalm's last section of eight verses, headed by the Hebrew letter Tau. One writer sums up what marks that closing section:
TAU. Verses 169-176. Cries and pleading to the Lord mark this closing section, because deliverance has not yet come. The remnant long for deliverance, for divine help and salvation. They long for the time when they will praise God's righteousness, as He has taught them. In the middle of the trials there is delight in the law of the Lord. There is also the confession of having gone astray, and so needing God to seek them out.
Verse 171 ties praise to God's teaching. Verse 172 adds the tongue. One writer traces that order and shows what has to come first:
The result of his deliverance will be praise to God, and testimony to men. Praise and testimony can, however, only flow from a soul that is taught by God. So the psalmist says, "My lips will pour out praise, when You have taught me Your statutes." At once he adds, "My tongue will speak of Your word." The psalm opens with prayer, continues in praise, and leads to testimony. This is always the divine order.
Why does praise stand first and speaking second? Another writer answers from the order of these closing verses:
When people have gone astray, cries and pleading come first, praises and testimony after… The soul will praise when God has truly taught it. Thankfulness comes first, because the word is our own portion first of all, and it comes from God. Then we have liberty to speak of it to others… No testimony, no preaching, no teaching is right teaching — even if its content is all correct — when the soul is not first filled from God for itself. We must drink for ourselves so that rivers may flow.
The same writer shows what praise grows out of — awe and delight in God's word together:
The heart stands in awe of God's word — a godly feeling. It comes with God's authority, yet he rejoices in it as one who has found great treasure… Because it is God's word, and because we have a new nature and God Himself teaches us, we delight beyond words in what is of Him and reveals Him… All this produces praise, because the heart rises up to the source of these things.
The promise is not private. One writer asks who finally hears this speaking:
When God has delivered them and taught them His statutes, their lips will pour out praise. And so they will. The last verse here implies, I think, their testimony to the nations, and that is what its place points out. Their tongue will speak aloud of God's saying, and the world will hear it.
The second half of the verse gives the reason for speaking at all:
Verse 171 is not prayer. It is a declaration of a proper response: "My lips will pour out praise, for You teach me Your statutes." And if praise is awakened toward God, then there is also a message for others: "My tongue will speak of Your Word" (v. 172). In fact, it is the righteousness of God's commandments that should speak to people everywhere.
The tongue in this verse is one member among many that the psalm puts to work:
Psalm 119 is formed of twenty-two sections, each beginning with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet. The whole psalm is one long outflow of worshipful joy in the law of the Lord. The writer calls on his soul, heart, eyes, lips, tongue, mouth, hands and feet to take part in this song of praise.
- Taught — Speaking God's word starts with being taught it. Praise and testimony only flow from a soul God has taught.
- Thankful — Thanksgiving comes first. The word is our own portion before it is a message for anyone else.
- Tongue — The psalm calls on soul, heart, eyes, lips, mouth, hands and feet. Here the tongue takes its turn.
- Told out — The speaking reaches the nations. The tongue speaks aloud of God's saying, and the world hears it.
- True — The message carries because God's commandments are righteousness. That should speak to people everywhere.
Let thy hand be for my help; for I have chosen thy precepts.
Psalm 119 closes with a run of cries — for hearing, for understanding, for rescue. Here the psalmist asks for God's hand, and his reason is a choice he has already made — so why does a man who loves God's word still need help?
The call for help comes out of conflict. Standing for God's word draws opposition.
The one who bears witness in an evil world will meet opposition. That opposition calls for support. So the cry goes up: "Let Your hand be ready to help me." He can plead for this help, because he has set his heart on the things of the Lord. His choice, his longing, and his delight all centre on the Word and the salvation of the Lord.
The word "for" carries the weight of the verse. Notice what the psalmist offers God as his ground for asking.
He is aware that God's commandments are righteous. He looks for the hand of Jehovah to help him, because he has chosen His precepts.
This plea has a precedent behind it.
This part gives their plea for God's salvation. First, they have chosen Jehovah's precepts — a plea already allowed in Deuteronomy 30:1-3. Their second plea is their longing for His salvation. They know their need, and they no longer look to other saviours.
Asking for God's "hand" is asking for more than sympathy. It is asking for His grace and power to act.
He wants the hand of God's grace and power to be his help (v. 173). The human hand is a marvellous instrument — and if that is so, how much more the hand of God! And that hand will certainly not fail the one who has chosen God's precepts.
If the choice is the ground of the plea, the choice cannot be partial. Picking and choosing turns obedience into something else.
There is great strength gained by unreserved obedience to the word of God. It will not do to pick and choose. We are prone to this. We take up the commandments and precepts that suit ourselves, but this is really self-will. What right have we to select some precepts from the word and neglect others? None whatever. To do so is, in principle, simply self-will and rebellion. What business has a servant to decide which of his master's commands he will obey? None at all. Every commandment comes clothed with the master's authority, and so it claims the servant's attention.
The prayer for help shows where this speaker stands: still waiting. Nothing around him has changed yet, but his heart already has.
This gives the key to the whole psalm. Israel has gone astray. They desire and love God's law in their hearts, but Jehovah has not delivered them yet, and their circumstances and condition are not yet set right. Yet their hearts are set right, so that He may come in His word. They want His deliverance, and His word is the ground of their hope. We see a similar process when any soul is restored, above all under discipline. Where the heart is upright, it does not seek comfort without restoration.
Writers place this closing section differently. Some hear Israel crying out in a coming day. Others hear any believer under restoration. The prayer reads the same either way.
- Choice. The verse rests on a settled decision. He can plead for help "because he has set his heart on the things of the Lord." What you have chosen becomes what you can bring to God.
- Cost. That choice draws resistance. The one who bears witness in an evil world "will meet opposition." Needing help proves the choice was real. It is not a sign that it failed.
- Claim. God had already allowed this plea in Deuteronomy 30. The psalmist did not invent it.
- Completeness. A real choice takes the whole word. Picking the commands that suit us is "self-will and rebellion," and it destroys the ground of the prayer.
- Confidence. The answer is God's own hand. That hand will not fail the one who has chosen God's precepts, even while circumstances stay the same.
I have longed for thy salvation, O Jehovah, and thy law is my delight.
This verse comes near the end of the longest psalm, where the writer is still waiting for rescue. He holds two things together at once: a longing for God to act, and a present joy in what God has already said.
The verse names what the writer wants and what he already enjoys. One writer points out what each half of the verse quietly refuses.
He looks for the hand of the LORD to help, because he has chosen His precepts. He has longed for the LORD's salvation, and has not trusted in man. The LORD's law has been his delight, not his own will, nor the prosperous man's ways.
So the longing is not vague wishing. It is aimed at God, and it has already turned from every other helper.
Why can someone ask God for salvation like this? Because he has stopped pretending. The longing itself is offered to God as part of the case he brings.
The second part gives their plea for God's salvation. This is, first, that they have chosen the LORD's precepts — a plea already allowed in Deuteronomy 30:1-3. The second is their longing for His salvation. They are not ignorant of their need, and they seek no more to other saviours.
Knowing your need and dropping every substitute are one move, not two. And the plea itself was one God had already allowed.
The verse before it asks for God's hand to help. That request has a setting.
The one who gives a testimony in an evil world will meet opposition. That opposition calls for support, so the cry goes up: "Let your hand help me." He can ask for this help, because his heart is set on the things of the Lord. His choice, his longing, and his delight all centre in the Word and salvation of the Lord.
Choice, longing, delight — all three point one way. That is his ground for asking.
Some prayer only wants the pain to stop. This verse asks for more. What a person delights in shapes the rescue he will accept.
The help of God's hand, the longing for His salvation, is not merely that we may be delivered. That may be sought, even if it is sought only in some side path, not God's way. But when the heart is in God's precepts, only God's salvation is sought.
Relief on any terms is one thing. Waiting for God's own deliverance is another, and delight in His word is what keeps the two apart.
This verse is one line in a psalm with a single theme. One writer used that psalm to press the value of storing Scripture in the heart.
The Spirit of God cannot bring to my memory a Scripture I have never read. And I stress this, dear friends: we cannot overestimate the importance of filling our minds with Scripture... That is why in the 119th Psalm there are only two verses that do not refer to the Word of God. Study that psalm carefully... Notice the 174th verse... It is either the Word of the Lord or the commandment of the Lord, but in every verse it is the Word.
The delight in this verse is therefore not a mood. It is the fruit of a mind filled with what God has said.
Commentators also read the psalm forward, as words that a faithful group in Israel will one day use in a time of great trouble. On that reading, the verse belongs to people whose knowledge is limited but whose hearts are right.
As the godly remnant of Israel pass through the tribulation, they will indeed cry out, "I long for Your salvation, O Lord." They may know very little of what the New Testament teaches. Yet what they do know of the law of God will be their delight (v. 174).
Darby reads the psalm the same way, and names the moment it describes.
This is the moral state of Israel in the last days, when the law is written in their heart, but full deliverance and final blessing have not come.
So the two halves of the verse fit that moment: the law already loved, the salvation still ahead.
- Longing. The cry starts with need owned: they know they need saving, and they have dropped every other rescuer.
- Narrowing. Longing for God's salvation rules out trusting in man; delight in His law rules out following self-will.
- Waiting. A heart set on God's precepts wants only God's salvation, not relief by some side path.
- Sustaining. The answer has not come yet, so the word already read and stored becomes the delight that keeps a tested witness steady.
- Widening. A suffering people will one day pray these same two desires, knowing little but delighting in what they know.
Let my soul live, and it shall praise thee; and let thy judgments help me.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
I have gone astray like a lost sheep seek thy servant; for I have not forgotten thy commandments.
Psalm 119 spends 176 verses praising God's word, then ends with a man admitting he has wandered off like a sheep. Why does the longest song of love for God's law close with a prayer to be found?
One writer points out that love for the law and confession of failure run together all through the psalm.
The law is magnified under many different titles, and the spirit of the whole psalm is, "Oh how I love your law!" (v. 97). Yet all through it are confessions of failure judged by its holy standards. There are cries to be made alive — the law never could give life (Galatians 3:21) — and prayers for deliverance.
The picture is exact. A sheep does not plan its escape. It drifts after whatever looks good in front of it.
Sheep are simple. Impulse leads them a great deal, so they are straying creatures (Isaiah 53:6; Psalm 119:176; 1 Peter 2:25). A mouthful of green grass carries the sheep on to a pit, and to the mouth and teeth of lions and wolves. Impulse, rather than faith, is often the guide of weak believers.
The Hebrew word for "lost" here is abad, "to perish." The same word describes a straying animal, and also the righteous man who "perishes" and yet enters into peace (Frederick W. Grant).
A lost sheep cannot retrace its steps. So the prayer is not "help me find You" but "seek me." The sheep is lost, but not disowned.
God says, "Behold, I, I myself will SEARCH for my sheep." They have been scattered, and they have wandered, but they are "mine," says God, and "I will SEARCH for them." May we never forget, whatever the condition of the sheep, they belong to Christ. He thought of them from all eternity... He left His home of glory to seek His sheep... He went as far as the cross to find His sheep.
The last clause is the ground of the appeal. It sets the man's present against his past.
His one desire is to live for the Lord's praise, kept going by the Lord Himself. That is the opposite of his past life, when he followed his own will and went astray like a lost sheep. If he went astray, the Lord sought him. And he can still say, "Seek your servant." Now, unlike in the days when he went astray, he can add, "I do not forget your commandments."
The sheep picture explains the remembering as well as the wandering. A sheep does not forget its proper home (L. M. Grant).
One writer sees this closing verse as the voice of Israel's faithful few, still waiting for God to act.
At the end he admits that he has gone astray. He looks to Jehovah, the Shepherd of Israel, to seek him, for he has not forgotten His commandments. This is the moral state of Israel in the last days. The law is written in their heart, but full deliverance and final blessing have not come.
The same writer does not leave this verse in the future. He turns it on us.
The humbled and repentant remnant — and, I repeat, we too, when we have wandered from God — look for God to seek them, because they were upright in heart and mindful of His commandments.
What the psalm asks for, the New Testament announces as done. Peter writes to believers, "For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls." One writer turns that into a question: "Have we all returned; have you returned? If not, lose no time, but return at once to Jesus, the Overseer of your soul" (W. T. P. Wolston).
- Stray — The longest psalm about God's word ends in an admission of failure, not a claim of success. Love and confession run side by side.
- Sheep — Straying is drift, not defiance. A mouthful of grass at a time, impulse instead of faith, carries the sheep to a pit.
- Seek — The prayer is not "let me find You" but "seek Your servant," because a lost sheep has no power to bring itself home.
- Shepherd — God's answer is "I will search for My sheep"; He owns them, left glory for them, and went as far as the cross to find them.
- Return — A wandering sheep still knows where home is. Peter tells believers the search is over: you "have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls."