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.