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.