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.