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.